Daffodil

An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

www.ellorascave.com

Daffodil ISBN 9781419915468 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Daffodil Copyright © 2008 Anny Cook Edited by Helen Woodall. Photography and cover art by Les Byerley. Electronic book Publication March 2008 With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502. Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/) This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

DAFFODIL

Anny Cook

Dedication This one is for the readers. Without your loving enthusiasm there would be no reason to write.

Daffodil

Prologue

Dungeon Love Raulf returned the soft purple flogger to its place on the rack and turned toward the petite blindfolded blonde chained to the wall. “Daffodil, my sweet. Are you ready for me?” She whimpered softly. “I didn’t hear anything.” “Yes, Raulf,” she breathed, shivering with need as feminine moisture slicked her thighs and pussy. Raulf released her cuffs from the chain and guided her across the room to a long, narrow table covered with a heavy padded blanket. “Turn around, sweetheart. Let me look at you.” Obediently, Daffodil turned to face him. She could feel the heat from his body and the soft rhythm of his warm breath on her face. She trembled with anticipation as she waited for him to touch her. Running a long, gentle finger down the center of her swollen pussy, Raulf bent to take a puffy nipple in his mouth. Daffodil jerked spasmodically and moaned. He released the tight bud and flicked his tongue over the other nipple already standing at attention in sympathy. Lifting his head, he moved back a pace. “Spread your legs so I can prepare you.” Instantly, she spread her legs and stood perfectly still as he unfastened straps and buckles, removing the dildo but leaving the butt plug in place. Effortlessly, he lifted her onto the table and helped her lie flat on her back. After positioning her arms over her head, he patted her hands and said, “Keep them there.”

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Abandoning herself to his whims, Daffodil sighed with pleasure. She didn’t know exactly what Raulf planned this time. Every time was different. But he never considered his time with her finished until she was screaming with ecstasy. What more could any woman ask? She smiled gently as she recalled the day that she approached Raulf and asked him to be her first man. She was nervous and trembling but he was Honeysuckle’s hearty recommendation. Her sister had pointed out that she really needed a man with experience who would value the gift she was giving him. And Daffodil had never been sorry that she picked Raulf. Never. “What are you smiling about, sweetheart?” “You. Remembering the first time you made love to me.” Her smile widened as he moved around the table, gently sliding her feet into special cradles that spread her legs so that she was open to his every desire. “Every day, I give thanks that you came to me. I would never have approached you as you were so young, Daffodil.” “Young? Raulf, at twenty-two I was practically an old maid!” “Young.” He growled in her ear and then ran his tongue from her ear down the sensitive cord in her neck. “Incredibly young. But now you’re my woman. I could never let you go, you know.” “I don’t want you to let me go. Ever.” “I won’t.” He bent over her, washing her damp skin with his tongue between planting wet, lingering kisses over the curved tops of her breasts, down the center of her breastbone, dipping his tongue in her navel and swirling it around. Continuing down across her rippling tummy, he alternated kisses and flickering wet licks until he reached the soft bare mound that guarded her pulsing pussy. Everything stopped. Daffodil held her breath, waiting—waiting for the heavenly touch of his mouth on her pussy. For long drawn-out moments nothing happened. Then Raulf moved to her head and gently removed the blindfold. 6

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“I want you to watch me take you,” he said soberly. “And then I want you to do whatever you desire.” Searching his warm gray eyes, she slowly nodded. “What I desire more than anything is for you to make me yours in every possible way. I love you, Raulf,” she whispered solemnly. “As I love you.” Suddenly, he slid his arms around her and lifted her up so that she rested against his warm bare chest. “I want to make love to you in that wide bed in the corner. I don’t know how long I’ll last after watching you squirm around but that’s what I want. What do you want?” “I want to taste you, lick you, touch you.” She lifted her head and kissed his chin before rubbing her soft lips against his. “Stars of Avalon, I love you.” He carried her to the bed and placed her in the center before going to the heavy dungeon door and barring it securely shut. There would be no interruptions tonight. Whatever or whoever needed his supervision would have to wait. He returned to the bed, pausing only long enough to peel his tight pants off and kick off his boots. Naked, he joined her on the soft bed. “I need you first. I swear I’ll make it good for you but I can’t wait any longer.” His deep voice washed over her in a vibrating growl of hunger. Without hesitation, she tugged him in place as she parted her legs. “I need you just like that too. Come to me, Raulf. Fill me with your cock. Love me like you’ll never let me go.” Raulf’s cock, broad at the head and heavy with need, nudged at her slick entrance before he filled her with one long thrust, groaning as he worked his way into the snug, wet passage. When he was seated to the hilt he paused to catch his breath, marveling that no matter how often they joined in sweet combat, she always welcomed him with joy and pleasure. What had he done to deserve her love? And then his pleasure dimmed when he remembered how he had almost lost her. He gathered Daffodil in his arms and rolled so that she was perched on top. “Ride me, 7

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sweetheart. I want to feel your sweet pussy milking my cock while you play with your pretty nipples.” Daffodil grinned knowingly down at him. “You just want to play with my ass. I know what you like.” “You like it too.” He wrapped his big hands around the curves of her soft ass and gently poked the butt plug still filling her. She moaned as it rubbed against the thin skin separating it from his cock. “Admit it, Daf. You love to be stuffed with my cock and whatever else I can find. Some days I still think about asking Timmy to come to the dungeon. We could fill you with two cocks at once.” She tilted her head in thought. “I don’t know, Raulf. So far, except for that one time, I’m pretty much a one-woman man.” Plucking at her nipples with long, slender fingers, she rode him with increasing vigor, grinding her pussy against him in frantic movements. While he continued to gently manipulate the butt plug in complementary rhythm, he slid his other hand between her legs and brushed across her clit. The image of what it would be like pressed between Raulf and Timmy filled her mind. She shrieked as her slender body froze for a second balanced on the sharp edge of desire and then waves of fiery contractions engulfed her, turning her blind and deaf to her surroundings. With a last desperate thrust, Raulf filled her as deeply as he could. The ripple of tiny convulsive movements running the length of his cock, inexorably milking the thick rod, pulled him into the heat with her. She sprawled on his damp chest and inhaled his scent. Scent of Raulf—something spicy and musky and male. She loved his wild scent, always comforted and aroused by it at the same time. She loved the way he held her after their lovemaking, wrapping his arms around her as though he would shield her from the chaos around them. She flicked her tongue out for a quick taste of his skin, savoring the flavor of Raulf. She smiled again remembering how it had all started. “What are you smiling about now, my Daffodil?” 8

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“Oh, remembering how it all started.” “What? Not Morgana!” Hearing the deep revulsion in his voice, she shook her head. “No, not Morgana. I was remembering when I met Pansy.” “Oh, yeah. Let us not forget Pansy.”

***** In which Young Daffodil meets Pansy the Tooth Faery Bright moonlight poured through the high, narrow window, illuminating the small room where a little golden-haired child slept soundly. A dull thunk heralded the less than graceful arrival of Pansy, the tooth faery, as she landed on the windowsill by the skin of her toes. Teetering wildly, she grabbed for the rotting window frame which promptly disintegrated, leaving her with a handful of moldy wood splinters. Plunging two stories down, she landed in a large lilac bush. Muttered curses filled the air as she extricated herself from the prickly bush and stomped across the weedy yard. When she was far enough from the building to have a clear vantage point, she turned and sourly surveyed the high window above the lilac bush. She brushed straggles of pale pink hair back from her dark purple eyes and frowned in deep thought. No doubt about it. She was going to have to land just right. Or… She could just blink in. Blinking was forbidden. She knew that but some rules were made to be broken! And this seemed to be the perfect time to break the commandment against blinking into strange rooms. Surely there couldn’t be that many obstacles in the small space she’d glimpsed before falling from the ledge. With a faint shrug, she closed her eyes and blinked into the small bedroom. And promptly fell over a doll cradle, landing with a resounding thud. Holding her breath, she froze while she waited to see who would rush through the door in response to the noise. After long, endless moments, when no one appeared, she

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slowly climbed to her feet and straightened her tattered pink dress before planting her hands on her hips and staring around the tiny room. What a dump! It was barely bigger than a closet. The child’s belongings were arranged with painful neatness with everything in its place but that still left minimal free space in the room. She slowly shook her head. For such a big house, it was a shame that the little girl should be stuck in this broom closet of a room. Moving with cautious care on silent, dusty bare feet, Pansy approached the bed. If the kid put her tooth where she was supposed to, Pansy could swap it for a coin and be out of here in seconds. She slipped her hand beneath the lumpy pillow and felt around. Nothing. Pansy withdrew her hand and straightened up, pondering for a moment before tiptoeing around the narrow bed. She knelt down and slithered her hand beneath the pillow from this side. Nothing. She slid her hand back out and tapped her chin with impatient fingers. Where the heck did the kid put her tooth? “Who are you?” a little piping voice inquired softly. Pansy realized that the kid was watching her with a curiously calm gaze. The faery thought if she had awakened with some stranger feeling around under her pillow she would have been screaming blue gummy murder. What kind of kid just asked you who you were? “I’m the tooth faery,” she explained quietly. “Where’s your tooth, kid?” “I’m not a baby goat,” the little one pointed out precisely. “My name is Daffodil and I’m a girl.” “Good enough. Daffodil. So where’s your tooth, Daffodil?” “Mama gave it to the witch woman.” Daffodil’s expression was too old and wise for her age, thought Pansy. Far too old. “What witch woman?” Pansy asked calmly though her stomach was suddenly leaping about with trepidation. “Do you know her name?” “Of course.” Daffodil sat up in the bed and scowled at Pansy. “Her name’s Morgana. She’s the most famous witch in Avalon.”

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The faery, intrigued against her will, perched on the side of the rumpled bed and pursed her lips in thought. “Did your mama say why she gave your tooth to Morgana?” Daffodil’s springy curls bounced wildly when she shook her head. “No. But my sister, Chrysanthemum, said that it was a very bad thing that Mama did. And Honeysuckle, my other sister, said that she will get it back from Morgana.” “Oh yeah? How’s she gonna do that?” Pansy asked curiously while she absently pleated the soft filmy fabric of her skirt. “Honeysuckle said she’s going to sneak into Morgana’s house and steal it back. She said that Mama would have to buy her love charm some other way. Anyway, a love charm won’t bring Papa back.” Daffodil’s grave explanation told Pansy more than she really wanted to know about the little girl’s mother. In effect, Daffodil’s mama had sold her to the witch for a love charm. As long as Morgana had the child’s tooth, she could control her actions. Pansy pondered for a few moments. “Well, your sister is correct. We need to retrieve your tooth from Morgana but I don’t think Honeysuckle’s quite old enough to battle a witch.” “But she’s a very good spy,” Daffodil offered soberly. “She never gets caught and she knows everything that’s going on in the manor. She even saw Michael the blacksmith’s thing.” “His thing?” The faery stared at her in confusion. “What thing?” “You know. His thing. He sticks it inside Mildred the cook.” Pansy’s eyes widened abruptly and she sat straight up. “All righty, then. Moving right along now… I’ll go to Morgana’s place and see if I can find your tooth. You go back to sleep.” “What about Honeysuckle?”

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“Don’t you worry about your sister. I have a notion that she can take care of herself. I’ll try to find a way to let her know that I’m on the job.” Pansy climbed down from the bed and straightened the covers up over Daffodil’s shoulder. “Go to sleep.” “May I ask you something?” “Sure. Whatcha wanna know?” “Where’s your wings? Don’t faeries have wings?” Daffodil demanded with a yawn. “Some do, some don’t. I don’t. Now go to sleep, Daffy.” “Don’t call me Daffy. My name is Daffodil.” Even on the verge of sleep, her high little voice was firm. Pansy gently patted her shoulder. “All right. Daffodil. Go to sleep now. I’ll take care of your tooth. Don’t you worry.” “Okay.” Obediently, Daffodil closed her eyes. “Don’t fall out the window this time.”

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Chapter One

Daffodil takes charge Florian LeFleur stomped down the dimly lit stairs to the dank manor dungeon. His sudden arrival at his ancestral home after a seventeen-year absence had clearly caught the residents off guard. The abrupt exit of his horny estranged wife when she ran off with a traveling acrobat troupe didn’t surprise him but it did leave him with the unwanted responsibility of three daughters—three unmarried daughters who were too old to leave unsupervised at his moldering estate. And from all the evidence so far, he was obviously just in time to prevent complete disaster. When he parked his elderly powerbike in the barn, he was dismayed to discover Honeysuckle enthusiastically sucking off Timid Timmy, one of the three stablemen remaining once the rest had been fired by Florian’s errant wife. Florian didn’t particularly object to Honey sucking cocks as that was one of the few reasons to keep a woman handy in his jaded opinion but he did object to the other two stablemen fucking her in the hay in an empty stall while she was so occupied. It seemed to him that the least they could do was show enough respect for him to provide a blanket or a bed if they were going to fuck his daughter. Fat Mildred, the cook, directed him to the musty library where he found Chrysanthemum sitting alone with ugly spectacles perched on her nose, reading a heavy, moldy old book on the history of Avalon. Her zipsuit was the most demure dull fabric imaginable—smoky gray pinstripes—and fastened all the way up to her determined chin. Her dark hair was twisted in a tight bun and she had on no makeup. It was enough to make a father weep and wring his hands. When he saw how difficult it was going to be to find her a man his heart fell in despair. She even wore a bandeau confining her breasts! Who would he find to take her off his hands?

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His demand to know where Raulf the butler was had elicited bored directions to the dungeon. Reaching the bottom of the stairwell, he nudged the heavy door to the dungeon open and discovered Raulf the butler in the dungeon all right—a dungeon he had turned into a private playroom—with whimpering, squealing Daffodil blindfolded and chained to the wall. Her petite body was damp with arousal and the faint sheen of perspiration as she slowly writhed helplessly from the joint stimulation provided by an ingenious device with a vibrating dildo and butt plug while Raulf tapped her pert blushing ass with his purple flogger. With a faint shudder, Florian slammed the door shut and went upstairs to set his plans in motion. It was definitely past time to arrange advantageous marriages for his daughters.

***** Raulf looked up as the door snicked shut. He wondered who had the audacity to come down to the dungeon without his permission. He jerked to attention when Daffodil snapped, “Who was it?” “I don’t know, ma’am,” he was forced to admit. “You’re losing focus, Raulf. I expect you to pay closer attention to your task.” He didn’t make the mistake of thinking that her gentle tone was a sign of acceptance. No, it usually meant that she was annoyed. And Raulf worried when Daffodil was annoyed because that nearly always meant that he was going to pay big time. With renewed concentration, he flicked her deep pink ass with the flogger, trembling as he speculated about what would happen if anyone found out that he wasn’t really the one in charge in the dungeon. Avalonian law was pretty clear on that point. No female doms allowed. He scowled thoughtfully as he wielded the flogger. Someday, Miss Daffodil was going to get the surprise of her life when he ended with the upper hand.

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The door banged against the wall as Timid Timmy flung it open in his haste to spread the news. Panting and breathless, he declared, “Florian LeFleur just showed up! He’s upstairs in the library yelling at Chrysanthemum and Honeysuckle!” For a few long seconds, Raulf and Daffodil froze in a tableau right out of Prince Gawain’s recent bestseller, Domination: Love Your Sub, before Daffodil stomped her foot in frustration. “Close the door, Timmy. Raulf, release me and remove the toys! I suppose I’ll have to go upstairs and find out what’s going on.” Raulf hastened to obey her while Timmy shut and barred the door. Sighing in aggravation at having her proposed afternoon of delight interrupted, Daffodil yanked on a brilliant yellow zipsuit that suited her sunny name if not her current mood, and stalked upstairs in search of an absentee father she hadn’t laid eyes on since she was six. With Raulf and Timmy at her heels she halted in the hallway outside the library. Honeysuckle was sitting demurely next to Chrysanthemum on the sofa in the library while a short, stocky gray-haired man paced to and fro in front of them, alternately shouting and muttering. His hair stuck up like a rumpled nest of feathers. Daffodil stood in the doorway and studied the angry man while she listened intently to the harangue. “The king gives me permission to bring my daughters to Came-a-lot so they can find eligible husbands so I post down here, traveling through the Dread Forest, taking my life in my hands and what do I find? What do I find? I’ll tell you what I found! Honeysuckle in the barn fucking and sucking the stable hands. Chrysanthemum in the library reading an ancient moldy book like an old maiden. And Daffodil…” he groped for words before he continued wrathfully, “Daffodil was naked in the dungeon allowing the butler to flog her with a purple flogger! What kind of man uses a purple flogger?” Florian’s bellow was now so loud that his wayward daughters figured they could hear him all the way to Came-a-lot. Honeysuckle minutely inspected her nails and hummed. Chrysanthemum yawned. 15

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Raulf winced and waited for the explosion. It wasn’t long in arriving. “Do you hear me?” their papa shouted. “Of course we hear you,” Honeysuckle muttered under her breath. “The dragons on Chrystal Isle hear you. The monks at Solomon’s Choice Abbey hear you. I bet even randy old King Arthur hears you.” Honey picked at a cuticle and sighed with disgust. “What do you want, anyway?” A long silence ensued as words failed Florian. His mouth opened and shut and then he said very, very quietly, “Pack up. You three girls are going to Came-a-lot. I’m shutting the house up. Once I have you off my hands, I’ll sell this millstone and finally have a life.” “What about Mama?” Chrysanthemum pushed her slipping glasses back up her nose with one nail-bitten finger. “What about her?” Florian was suddenly impatient with the entire mess. “She’s out of my hair, happy with her acrobats. I’m finally free.” He frowned at Chrys. “Why acrobats, anyway?” Honeysuckle’s smile had a malicious tinge to it. “She said they were limber, always ready and used to working as a team.” Florian stomped out of the library without another word, leaving Honey and Chrys to Daffodil’s tender mercies. “Well, hell, Honey. Think you could have antagonized him a little more? Now what are we going to do?” “Frankly, there isn’t much we can do,” Chrys observed. “By law, we have to obey him or he can turn us over to the Abbess Maeve’s nunnery at Solomon’s Choice Abbey.” “So we have to go.” Daffodil’s disgusted tone had Raulf running from the room. Time to find Florian and convince him that Daffodil would be better off at the manor.

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Down in the dungeon Daffodil was pondering her options while she bathed and washed her hair. She always used Raulf’s sybaritic bathroom with its deep whirlpool tub and a walk-in shower big enough for three or four. Fauna, her mother, had gifted it to Raulf in exchange for some obscure favor he did for her. No one seemed to know exactly what the favor was, though. According to Chrysanthemum, they had no choice but to go with Florian to Came-a-lot. What she needed to do was provide Raulf with a viable reason to follow her. If he came to Came-a-lot, she was certain she could convince him to bring her back to the village. Even if Papa sold the house, surely she could find someone to take her in. She didn’t want to live somewhere else. And she definitely didn’t want to fuck someone other than Raulf. Raulf knew exactly what she liked. As she pondered over a possible way to snag Raulf, she stuck her head under the roaring waterfall which prevented her from hearing Honeysuckle push open the dungeon door. Honey was on a mission. She didn’t particularly want to go to Came-a-lot Castle but, on the other hand, there wasn’t a lot to look forward here at the LeFleur Estate. Daffodil, however, did have a man—a good man who cared for her. Honey was determined that Raulf would have his chance to be in charge. Biting her lip, she looked around. Something… She needed something small enough to hide and carry. There! Gleaming with anticipation, her deep green eyes settled on the small case that contained Raulf’s collection of cock rings. Some were quite old and valuable. Two of them were engraved with elaborate twining leaves and knotwork. Without a doubt he would be right on their heels when he found his collection missing. Then she thought, What if he didn’t notice that they were missing? Her eyes darted around while she considered that possibility. With a sharp little nod, she decided to take some of his floggers. The red one. And the black velvet one. With an impish grin she added his favorite, the dark purple one. Yeah, he would notice that one missing!

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Wrapping her loot up in a small towel, she carefully shut the dungeon door behind her and made her way up to her tiny room on the top floor where she hastily concealed it all in her shabby carrying bag. Then she thought someone might get nosy so she quickly packed the three best zipsuits she owned, stuffing them on top. She bit her lip. Stared around at her small room and then settled on a few little items to add to the bag. Her brush and mirror. Her small wicker workbasket with her crochet thread and needles and tatting shuttles and embroidery project. At the last moment, she tossed in three pairs of socks and her toy bag that contained the vibrator Raulf gave her last Christmas and the butt plugs the stable boys gifted her for her birthday. All done. Shoving her wild red-gold curls back with shaking fingers, she tried to think of anything she’d missed or forgotten. No. Nothing more. That was the beauty of living on the edge of poverty. There wasn’t much to miss. She carefully fastened the bag shut and took a deep breath to calm her quivering nerves and then went out, shutting her door firmly behind her. With a silent little prayer that her plan would work, she went downstairs to join her sisters in the kitchen. In the meantime, Raulf had finally cornered Florian in the dusty old estate office where he was flipping through the tattered estate records. “Looking for something in particular?” Raulf inquired curiously. “Where are the estate accounts?” “I have no idea. Fauna took care of all that. We haven’t worked on a monetary system for years.” Florian’s head shot up. “What are you talking about? I sent money every month!” Raulf shrugged. “Never saw it. We’ve been working on a barter system for at least ten years now. If you sent money, Fauna didn’t share any of it with the rest of us. I haven’t been paid in the last twelve years.” Florian shoved his hands through his wiry hair and bowed his head. “Why did you stay?”

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“Where else would I go?” Raulf leaned against the doorjamb and crossed his arms across his broad chest. “I figured if I stayed at least I could make sure the girls had clothes and food. Fauna didn’t give a hoot one way or the other as long as she had someone to fuck. Two years ago, I caught her trying to sell Honeysuckle.” “What?” “She was going to sell Honeysuckle to Bimbo the Wrestler for his Busty Bimbo Girls Show,” Raulf explained curtly. “He wanted her as a centerpiece for the gang bang. I threatened to chain Fauna in the dungeon with no fucking allowed for a couple of months and she reconsidered.” Florian muttered and slammed the book shut. “I came to ask for Daffodil,” Raulf said quietly. “I love her. I want to get married.” “No. You’re a good man, Raulf, but you’re still a butler and you’re too old for her. Daffodil can make a much better marriage than a servant.” Florian methodically stacked the books in a neat pile. “If you had some land or a title, I might consider it but not like things are now. “You owe me twelve years’ pay. Give Daffodil to me instead.” Florian’s head shot up. “No!” Raulf shrugged his broad shoulders. “Then I would like my back pay now. Otherwise, I’ll go to Came-a-lot and present my case to the king.” Sitting back in the rickety chair, Florian stared at his butler in amazement. “You’re threatening me? Me?” “Promising. I make you this promise. If you don’t give me Daffodil in marriage—or my back pay—I will present my case to the king,” Raulf assured him coolly. “I have nothing to lose at this point.” “You have no idea who you dare threaten. Go ahead, Raulf. See how far you get with the king. In the meantime, stay away from Daffodil or I’ll have you thrown in your dungeon and lose the key. Now get out.”

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Silently, Raulf left the tiny office, determined to track down Gerald and Bart. Something wasn’t right. Florian was too sure of winning when he didn’t have a leg to stand on. All the points of Avalonian law were on Raulf’s side. There was something very strange going on in Came-a-lot.

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Chapter Two

In which Pansy encounters Bart the Dragon Shuffling along in the dark, Pansy shook her head in amazement as she recalled that long ago night in Daffodil’s bedroom. She couldn’t believe she was still looking for that damned tooth all these years later. That cute little girl must be all grown up now. Pansy scowled when she remembered how the Faery Council had transferred her down to the southern coastal limits away from the northern precincts. Someone must have seen her blink into Daffodil’s room and reported her. The timing was too pat for any other explanation except coincidence and Pansy wasn’t a big believer in coincidence. Somebody dropped the ball when the transfer went down though and now Pansy was stuck looking for the blasted tooth with a cold trail. Who would believe that it would be so important now? According to the Faery Council, it was critical to get that tooth away from Morgana before she commanded Daffodil to do something dangerous or treasonous. With the all the rumors of a coup against King Arthur, these were indeed treacherous times in Avalon. Pansy shoved a trailing branch of laurel out of her way and scooted around a boulder that sat squarely centered on the dim path she was treading. When a huge claw snaked out from the darkness and snagged her with disgusting ease, she loosed a little shriek and kicked out wildly, stubbing her toe on the tough scales covering her assailant. “Ow-ouch!” “Be still. And quit kicking me in the balls,” the dark gravelly voice growled over her head. “Do you want the rebels to catch you?” Instantly she was quiet. “Who are you? And what do you want?” she hissed in the gloom. “Put me down!”

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“I don’t think so. You make enough noise for a herd of gryphons. I thought faeries were supposed to be quiet.” Her assailant’s deep voice rumbled in her ear. “I heard you coming from the time you entered the woods. The trolls heard you before that.” “How was I supposed to know there was anyone around?” she demanded crossly. “Well, duh-uh, you think no one lives in the woods?” His tirade held her attention so that it took her a few minutes to realize that he had carried her a considerable distance away from the trail. “Wait just a doggone minute here. Where do you think you’re taking me?” “Back to my cave, of course. What did you think?” “Listen, buster, I’ve heard all about dragons. Don’t even go there. I don’t do dragons!” She wriggled indignantly in his grasping claws. “Let me go!” He went through a wide dark opening and promptly dropped her to the rugcovered floor of his cave. “I don’t recall asking you, faery. Anyway, I don’t do faeries. They’re too flighty.” Dumbfounded at his sheer audacity, she planted both hands on her hips and speared him with her eyes. His dark purple scales glimmered in the faint light from the oil lamps. Enormous horn-rimmed spectacles reflected the little light in the room. Her pouty lips tightened as she opened her mouth to let him have it right between his glittering golden eyes when he forestalled her with one big paw before turning to breathe fire on the stack of logs in the fireplace. With a rushing whoosh, flames licked over the dry wood and leaped into the air. “Now then, you were about to say?” he inquired calmly. “That was so cool! Can you do anything else?” she demanded in awe. “What? You think I’m some sort of circus performer?” “No, of course not.” Impatiently, she looked around for some place to sit and finally settled on a boulder that was conveniently near the roaring fire. After straightening her

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filmy blue dress and patting her silky pink curls, she slid him a sideways glance. “I just wondered.” Her eyes widened when she cast a long, considering look at his cock. Wow! Talk about a log! She’d heard about them, but yummmm. She cleared her throat and looked away after she sneaked another peek at the melon-sized sacs that were masquerading as testicles. Maybe she should reconsider her ideas about dragons. This one had a lot to work with… Her stomach growled and gurgled. The dragon sighed before reluctantly observing. “That sounds like you’re hungry. When did you eat last?” Pansy frowned in deep thought. “I don’t remember. What day is this?” “Wednesday night.” “Then I ate breakfast yesterday. I was in Came-a-lot and had honey on toast and cherry wine with the head of the Faery Council.” Her corkscrew curls flew around her when she shook her head. “I was so busy I guess I forgot.” The dragon sat on his haunches, folding his great wings close to his body and shot her a nervous glance. “Are you one of those vegan faeries? Or will you eat meat? I have some deer stew.” “Sounds delicious,” she answered promptly. “I’m starving.” “I’ll be right back, then. I need to let my troll, Belle, know that I have company.” He trudged into the next chamber, muttering beneath his breath. Little puffs of pale gray smoke wreathed his head before drifting back into the main cavern. While he was gone, Pansy had time to look around at his cave. It seemed to be a bit sparse on the furnishings. Other than the old thick carpets spread randomly there were two tiny tables and two short sections of log but she supposed that the accessories made up for that. The walls were lined with gorgeous splashy watercolors of irises. Purple, blue, yellow, pink—every shade she could think of. They were glorious dashes of color

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against the dull gray backdrop of the cavern walls. She hopped up from the boulder and went to peer at the signature in one corner. There was something…familiar about the paintings. When she saw the squiggle in the corner, her eyes opened wide in shock. She glanced around and quickly counted the paintings. Twenty-two in this one room alone. Twenty-two Bartholomew Pottswalds. Holy cow! They were worth a fortune! Then her eyes narrowed in thought. She had heard dragons were fabulously wealthy. By nature, they were considered thieves. But paintings? Somewhere in her past she’d acquired a vague notion that dragons hoarded jewels and gold. She couldn’t recall ever hearing about an art-collecting dragon. The dragon stomped back into the main cavern followed by a dainty troll burdened with a heavy tray. He whipped a large folded table from beneath his arm and set it up next to the boulder Pansy had chosen. The troll dumped the tray down with a sigh of relief and frowned at the faery. “Bart said you were hungry. What are you doing over there by the wall?” “Admiring the paintings. They’re beautiful.” “I guess so, if you like that sort of thing. They’re a pain in the ass to dust,” the troll grumbled with a sniff. “Sit down and eat.” Pansy returned to her perch on the boulder. Surveying the feast, she frowned a little and asked, “Utensils?” Stymied, the dragon looked at the troll. She snorted, curled her gray lip and stomped out of the cavern. In the meantime, Pansy cocked her head to one side in deep thought. “Bart? As in Bartholomew Pottswald?” The dragon seemed to shrink in on himself, giving off the distinct impression that he felt hunted. “Uh…” “I won’t tell anyone,” she assured him matter-of-factly. “I know about keeping secrets.”

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Bart sat back on his haunches and crossed his arms. “What kind of secrets would you know about?” The little troll returned with a battered spoon and tossed it carelessly on the tray before returning to her kitchen. Pansy seized it and scooped up some of the savory stew. “You don’t like faeries much, do you?” She blew on the hot stew and nibbled at the edge of the spoon smiling ecstatically at the wonderful flavor. “What’s to like? They’re always digging in my garden and stealing my flowers—” “Have you talked to their parents?” Pansy interrupted impatiently. “I bet you would find that their parents would be very upset with them, especially if they knew your name.” “What does my name have to do with anything?” “Puh-lease. Bartholomew Pottswald? Most famous painter on Avalon? Where have you been, living in a cave?” “As a matter of fact—” “Who’s your agent, anyway? I bet he’s been ripping you off,” she declared darkly. “Your sunflower and hollyhock paintings are even hanging in the Avalon Museum.” “Museum?” Bart’s glasses threatened to slip over the end of his long snout but he rescued them at the last moment, shoving them back in place with a curved claw. “What museum?” “Avalon Museum. The one that Prince Gareth runs. You know, King Arthur’s son?” “My paintings are in a museum?” Bart couldn’t seem to find anything to say. He slumped down with his wings drooping sadly behind him. “No one told me my paintings were in a museum. I’ve been giving them to the woodcutters as barter for food.” Pansy pointed her spoon at him and declared, “Well, that’s going to stop immediately. They’re ripping you off. You don’t need to barter with anyone.”

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“But—” “No buts. First thing in the morning, I’ll talk to the local faeries. They’ll make sure you have everything you need. And another thing—” “Stop! Just wait a minute. Why would the faeries give a rat’s ass whether I eat or not?” Bart shoved his glasses up again and peered at her in the firelight. “Oh, that. Well, because I’ve decided that you’re my dragon. They’ll take care of—” “I’m what?” His roar rattled the paintings on the wall. “Since when? What? What are you?” He began to hyperventilate, which is never a good thing for a dragon. “You’re going to be my dragon,” she reiterated calmly before shoveling in another spoonful of the delightful stew. Rolling the gravy around in her mouth, she savored the wonderful melding of herbs and spices. “You’re insane. I should have realized it at once when I found you stumbling around in the dark. Faeries don’t usually go out after dark.” Bart’s ears stood straight up and his wings snapped out with a whoosh. “What the hell am I going to do with you?” Pansy began to giggle as she watched his cock lengthen and grow rigid. “If you don’t know what to do with that log between your legs, I suppose I’ll have to show you.” “What?” Bart held his hands up as though to hold her at bay while he slowly backed away. “No, no faeries! I’m warning you. I don’t do faeries!” “Of course you don’t,” she agreed cheerfully. “Otherwise you would be back on Chrystal Isle with your mate, busily making little dragons. Now you have me.” “No, I don’t have you!” Bart was up against the wall, wings flapping wildly and panting as though he had run a marathon. “Well,” she amended. “Not yet. But soon. I have something I have to do first. Then I can resign and we can start making baby dragons.”

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The glasses slowly slid over Bart’s snout and immediately fogged up with his frantic huffing and puffing. “Who the hell are you and what are you talking about?” His tail swished around, nearly decapitating an oil lamp on a tiny table, while he frantically tried to shove his glasses back up where they would do some good. “Oh! I’m Pansy—Pansy, the tooth faery. I’m here to locate a tooth that Morgana took from a little girl. I believe her name was Daffodil.” She scooped up the last of the stew and sucked it from the spoon. “That was delicious. I don’t suppose you have more?” “Daffodil ain’t no little girl,” he growled in alarm. “You’re not here to get no tooth.” “Well.” Pansy considered for a moment. “Actually, I guess it has been a while. That was, let’s see, uh, sixteen, seventeen years ago? Yeah, probably, so I guess she’s grown up now. But I still have to find the tooth.” “You’re a little late,” a deep voice growled from the darkened doorway. She squinted, trying to see who was standing there. He helped her by moving into the light. Her mouth dropped open as her eyes widened in astonishment. The tall young man’s silver hair barely cleared the top of the cavern doorway. “A giant!” she exclaimed. “I haven’t seen a giant in years.” The young giant didn’t seem particularly impressed with her news. “Yeah? And?” “Well, it’s wonderful! I didn’t even know there were any guy giants around!” She clapped her hands over her gaping mouth and shook her head. “I wonder if Nanny Anny knows?” “Who is this nut?” the giant demanded as he walked over to the fire to warm his hands. He squatted on his heels, facing the fire and ignored the faery. With his back rudely turned to her, Pansy saw that his hair, confined in a neat braid, hung past his waist. The end, fastened with a sapphire so big it probably wouldn’t fit in her hand, slithered across his taut butt, drawing her eye to a truly great ass—giant economy size.

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“Claims she’s the tooth faery.” Bart’s grudging tone made it clear that he had his doubts. “I found her out wandering in the woods over by the rebel camp.” “So you brought her back to your cave so she could tell everyone where you live?” “What was I supposed to do with her, Gerald? Leave her there?” “Geez, Bart, she’s a faery! Faeries live in the woods!” Gerald jumped to his feet and looked around for a handy seat. Finding the nearest one occupied by the faery in question, he dragged one of the short chunks of log over in front of the fire and slumped down on it in despair. Burying his face in his huge hands, he moaned. “A freakin’ faery you bring home. Are you crazy? We’re doin’ top secret stuff here and you bring home a freakin’ rebel faery. What were you thinkin’?” Pansy lightly leaped down from the boulder and ran over to Gerald. Poking him in his chest in outraged punctuation, she said, “Hey there, Jumbo the Giant! I have a name! And it isn’t freakin’ faery! I’m Pansy and I have my own secret stuff to do so I don’t—” Poke. “Need.” Poke. “To know.” Poke, poke. “About yours!” Gerald caught her small hand in his giant fist. “Enough!” “Don’t hurt her!” In a flash, Bart was across the room, standing between Gerald and Pansy. “Don’t touch her.” “Ooooh. Don’t touch her. Now the truth comes out. You want to screw the faery!” the giant snorted in disgust.

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“You take that back, Gerald!” Bart shoved his glasses back up his nose. Steam streamed from his nostrils, reminding Gerald that his mild-mannered friend was a dragon. Gerald took a deep breath and released Pansy’s hand. Holding his big mitts up, he soothed Bart’s feelings. “No problem. My mistake. Why don’t we all calm down and talk about Miss Pansy’s mission?” Bart snatched Pansy up in his big paws and carried her back to her perch on the boulder. “Stay there.” Huffing and wheezing little gray puffs of smoke, his wings flapping in agitation, he sat between her and Gerald, trying to calm down. When Pansy would have crawled down, he pointed a claw at her. “Stay put!” “But—” “No. You started this with your talk about baby dragons and stuff. Now sit still while I unwind a bit. It’s embarrassing, you know! I mean, it’s not like you can hide a cock the size of mine!” She planted her fists on her hips and slowly licked her lips. “And why would you want to hide it? I think you have a beautiful cock. I want to touch it.” Gerald stood up and stretched, touching the high ceiling with his fingertips. “You guys want me to go someplace for a while so you can work this out?” Bart gave him an impatient glance. “No, of course not. Pansy’s figured out how to get me stirred up so she’s having a wonderful time teasing me.” “I am not!” Pansy declared hotly. “You belong to me! If you’re too blind to see that, I’ll just have to get you some new glasses! And this time I’ll make sure they fit!” Gerald shook his head. “I think she’s got you there, Bart. You have to admit that those spectacles don’t fit worth a damn. If you didn’t tie ‘em on with a bandana when you paint, you wouldn’t even be able to see the canvas.”

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“If you’re not going to help, stay out of it, Gerald.” Bart turned his back on the giant and shook his claw at Pansy. “Now you listen to me, you faery, you. Dragons only mate with virgins. And I never heard of a virgin faery! So cut it out.” She turned her head away so that he wouldn’t see the quick tears seeping from her dark purple eyes. “There are so virgin faeries. Stupid old dragon. Everyone has to have a first time. Just ‘cause I never did it doesn’t mean I can’t.” She sniffed very quietly. Bart peered at her suspiciously. “Are you crying? Oh, don’t do that to me. Don’t you do that. Crying?” “I’m not crying,” she denied, turning her back to him so he wouldn’t see her sniffling. “Yep. She’s crying. Now what are you gonna do?” Gerald demanded. Raulf stood in the doorway, watching in disbelief as the drama unfolded. “What the hell is going on? And who is this damned faery?” Bart rolled his eyes at Raulf in dismay. “This is Pansy, the tooth faery. I found her in the woods.” “And he couldn’t resist bringing her home like a stray puppy.” Gerald stomped out to the kitchen, leaving Bart and Pansy to Raulf’s mercy. “Why would you bring a faery home, Bart? Especially now with all the rebel activity?” Crisp salt-and-pepper curls sprang up when he raked his fingers through his hair. “Now on top of everything else, Florian’s shown up to take the girls to Came-a-lot. I can’t find Daffodil anywhere. The stablemen are hiding from Florian so he can’t fire them. Fat Mildred refused to cook dinner…” A faint gasp drew his attention back to the faery. One small hand covered her mouth as her eyes widened in shock. “Daffodil?” “What do you know about Daffodil?” Raulf demanded as he stalked closer to loom over her menacingly.

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“Hey, hey, back off. She’s here to find Daffodil’s tooth.” Bart shoved Raulf back with one paw and grabbed Pansy up in the other, cuddling her against his scaly chest. “Are you crazy? Or an idiot? Daffodil has all of her teeth.” Ready to explode with exasperation, Raulf turned on his heel and stomped over to the fire. “This is a baby tooth,” Pansy said quietly, peeping at the angry Raulf from the safety of Bart’s arm. “Daffodil’s mother traded it to Morgana a long time ago in exchange for a love potion.” “Who told you a wild tale like that?” Raulf’s scornful tone clearly communicated his feelings about Pansy’s explanation. “A leprechaun?” “Actually, Daffodil told me herself, back when she was a little girl. I planned to retrieve the tooth back then but the Faery Council transferred me to the other side of the country. Now they’ve decided that it’s critical to get her tooth back, so here I am.” Pansy clambered up to Bart’s wide shoulder where she perched with folded legs, crossing them Indian-style. “I was doing fine until Bart snatched me right off the trail and carried me back to his cave.” “You’re serious.” Raulf stared at her unhappily, conceding that her story made perfect sense, especially to anyone who knew Fauna. She crossed her heart and nodded soberly. “As a rotten tooth.” “Damn! Damn Fauna! And damn Morgana! How are we going to get her tooth back?” Stifling a huge yawn, Gerald meandered back into the main cavern with Belle trailing behind him, an enormous chocolate cake balanced on her trotters. Gerald dumped a stack of plates down on the table and took the cake from Belle, carefully setting it down next to them. Belle cut the cake in wedges big enough to make Pansy’s eyes dilate to the size of saucers until she remembered who Belle was serving. Sure enough when Belle cut a wedge for Pansy, it was faery size. Bart shifted Pansy back to the boulder so she could nibble on her cake. “Pansy and I can work on finding the tooth. You and Gerald can make sure the boss knows about 31

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that rebel camp.” He shrugged and yawned. “Besides, I don’t really have much to do here except collect the trolls’ reports. I would say that your job at this point is much more critical. If I was you, Raulf, I would find a way to keep a close eye on Daffodil.” “Yeah.” Raulf looked thoughtful for a few moments. “I think I will. Gerald, it’s time for us to go back and report to Nathan. And Bart? I’ve changed my mind. I think you did a good thing when you brought Pansy back here. Getting that tooth back from Morgana is very, very important. But be careful. Morgana is a very tricky bitch. And next week the king and the Knights of the Round Dungeon will be out on their annual Dragon and Virgin Roundup so stay out of sight!”

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Chapter Three

Raulf and Timid Timmy go to Came-a-lot At dawn the next morning, from a bedroom on the second floor, Raulf somberly watched Florian and his three daughters depart for Came-a-lot. Late the night before when he and Gerald had returned from Bart’s cave, they encountered the errant stablemen who made it clear that Florian was bent on dumping the manor and estate as soon as the girls were settled. Their subsequent conversation with Nathan the Sneak, head of the Crown agents for King Arthur, was even more disturbing. The rumors of a possible coup were rampant with additional rumors about a roundup and incarceration of all non-humans. All over Avalon the non-humans were retreating to hidden shelters where humans wouldn’t be able to find them. Some went even further by retreating to the islands that lay off the coast of Avalon. Nathan suggested that Gerald head north for the small secret giant enclave on the coast near Hieney Hamlet. Gerald wasn’t happy about his assignment but after Nathan pointed out that he could collect intelligence regarding the rebels on the way, he reluctantly agreed. In the wee hours of the morning, long before Florian even thought about getting up, Gerald set off on his journey, fortified with a heavy sack of provisions provided by Mildred. Now the only occupants who remained at the manor were Mildred, Raulf and Timid Timmy, one of the stablemen who had no place else to go. The other two were traveling with Gerald as far as Ship Town Road, where they planned to part ways and head for Piebald Crossing. Raulf yawned and turned away from the window. Time to go down to the dungeon and pack up his belongings. Timmy and he had been offered Mildred’s empty cottage

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on the edge of the Dread Forest. Raulf didn’t mind but Timmy was terrified by the possibilities of creatures coming out of the Dread Forest. Raulf just shook his head in annoyance. How could anyone spend so much of their life in fear? He stomped down to the kitchen, stopped briefly for one of Mildred’s gooey sweet cinnamon rolls and a mug of coffee and then went on down to the dungeon. Something kept niggling at him, some small thing that wasn’t right. While he chewed on the sweet roll he stared around the dungeon, frowning in puzzlement. Then he realized that his box of cock rings was missing. Setting the sweet roll down on his desk, he rushed over to the glass-front cabinet where he kept the antique carved box that held his cock rings. It was gone. Methodically, he removed every single thing from the cabinet. The box was gone! As he stood there surrounded by the clutter from the cabinet, Timmy staggered into the dungeon with a precarious pile of junk that threatened to tip over any moment. With a deep sigh of relief, he dumped the pile on the table and wearily straightened his aching back. Frowning at the stuff stacked around the empty cabinet, he asked, “What are you doing?” “Looking for that wooden carved box that held my cock rings.” Raulf stared around the dungeon vaguely while he pondered where else to look. Abruptly, his eyes stopped on the rack where he kept his floggers. “What the hell? Where are my floggers?” “What floggers?” Timmy muttered innocently as he sorted through the junk on the table. Mildred, industriously cleaning a closet upstairs, had kept stacking stuff in his arms until he couldn’t carry any more and then sent him off to get rid of it. But Timmy was a cautious type so he wanted to make sure he wasn’t discarding something he might be able to use. Raulf stalked over to him, twisting him so he could see his face. “My floggers! You know, the ones you keep drooling over every time you come down to the dungeon!” “I don’t know,” Timmy whimpered. “Honest, Raulf. I don’t know.”

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“Suck my cock!” Raulf cursed in disgust. “You probably have them stashed in the barn. If I find them—” he broke off in astonishment as Timmy dropped to his knees, ripped open the front of Raulf’s dusty zipsuit and promptly stuffed Raulf’s thick cock in his mouth. “What the fuck are you doing?” Timmy didn’t bother to answer as his actions were blatantly obvious. His sucking was enthusiastic enough to border on the fine edge of pain. And from Raulf’s rapid response, the question was more or less rhetorical anyway. Timmy wasn’t sure whether Raulf had intended for him to actually suck his cock but Timmy’s philosophy was simple. When in doubt, follow directions. And he had been waiting quite a while for Raulf to offer him exactly this opportunity. To tell the truth, Timmy was madly in love with Raulf and had been for a long time. He knew that Raulf was in love with Daffodil. The entire manor population knew that. Everyone seemed to get that except for Daffodil herself. That was okay with him as he certainly didn’t mind sharing Raulf with her. It just never occurred to him that Raulf might be interested in men. Now Raulf wasn’t particularly interested in men but a warm, wet mouth sucking his cock like the last all-day sucker was a warm, wet mouth, whomever it belonged to. He cradled Timmy’s head in his big palms intending to push him away. Instead he found himself holding him still while he rocked his hips, working his cock in and out, in and out, against the steady suction of Timmy’s hot mouth. Timmy’s tongue fluttered along the edge of the corona, dragging a rough groan from Raulf’s throat. Clearly, from the skillful sucking technique, his wasn’t the first cock that Timmy had encountered. When Timmy cradled his tight, heavy balls in his calloused hand and gently kneaded them while thrusting a finger from his other hand in the tight entrance of his ass, Raulf’s fragile control broke as he filled Timmy’s eager mouth with hot, pulsing spurts of cum. Ecstatic, Timmy swallowed Raulf’s precious gift before joyfully licking him clean. Moving reluctantly away from Timmy with his happy hands and tantalizing tongue, Raulf shook his head and tried to figure out exactly when he had lost control of

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the situation. With trembling fingers, he tucked his cock back into his zipsuit, pressing the fastening securely closed. How had he gone from accusing Timmy of taking his floggers to coming down Timmy’s tight throat? Timmy jumped to his feet and trotted into the bathroom to wash up, unsure whether Raulf was displeased or not. “Uh, Raulf?” “Yeah!” “Are you still pissed off?” Timmy poked his head out the door as he dried his hands. “’Cause I really didn’t touch the floggers.” “I believe you.” Raulf turned to look at Timmy and smiled wryly. “Actually, it could be that Daffodil might have taken them, the minx. You know,” Raulf observed slowly. “The laws about theft in this country would allow me to claim her as restitution for stealing from me. Last year when I took the cock rings to the Antiques & Attic Treasures Show, they were valued well over the limit I need to prove to the King’s Court.” “So we can go get her back?” Timmy demanded eagerly. “Really?” “Really.” Abruptly, Raulf grinned happily. “How would you like to be my new assistant? While I talk to Mildred, you go see if you can borrow a couple of powerbikes for us. We need to go to Came-a-lot.” By the time Timmy returned with the news that two powerbikes were available from Michael the blacksmith, Raulf and Mildred had grimly packed up the contents of the dungeon and Mildred’s small bedroom. When Raulf queried her about her plans, she merely smiled and revealed that Michael had finally decided that it was time for them to marry. The local priest, Father Howlin, had agreed to perform the ceremony that very evening. Relieved that her future was assured, Raulf carried the last of her bundles out to the cart sent over by Michael. Timmy and Raulf moved their belongings from the dungeon out to a shed on the edge of Dread Forest and when everything was finally disposed of, they dragged the cart with Mildred perched on top back to Michael’s place. 36

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Mildred insisted that they clean up while she prepared a quick meal for them. Raulf reluctantly agreed though he was anxious to get on the road to Came-a-lot. It was early afternoon before they were actually underway, roaring along on the sputtering, jerking excuses for powerbikes. Though they had no wheels and supposedly rode on a cushion of air, they were definitely on their last useful days. Obviously, the old proverb was true—beggars could not be choosers. As darkness fell, Raulf turned from the road, heading away from the Dread Forest. He knew they were far from the next inn so he led the way down to the rocky beach that ran the length of the western coast. They located a collection of jumbled boulders that sheltered a small cove and made a sketchy camp. Night beasts weren’t the only dangers of being caught outdoors after dark. Bandits and pirates also preyed on the unwary so they kept their campfire small and took turns keeping watch. In the black hours before dawn while Timmy slept, Raulf sensed that their rudimentary camp was under observation. Abruptly, the watchers rushed into the light, leaping down from the boulders that sheltered the camp, Three pirates, two of them trolls with the outer edges of their ears lined with gaudy gold rings, and a very tall, very pale man with long shaggy green hair worn in many small tails fastened with sea shells, stood in tense anticipation. Raulf, noting the patch over the man’s left eye and the sparse green hair on his chin, easily deduced that their unexpected guests were Greenbeard the pirate and his henchmen. With a gentle wave of his hand, Raulf invited them to sit. “To what do I owe this pleasure, Greenbeard?” As Greenbeard squatted on his heels next to the fire his black zipsuit flexed and stretched, revealing taut, heavy muscles. Absently, he reached down and rearranged his cock and balls while the trolls silently faded back into the shadows. “We’re looking for Raulf the butler. That you?” “That’s me,” Raulf admitted reluctantly. “How can I help you?”

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“Got a message from Nathan the Sneak. He said you should check out the Lusty Ale when you get to Came-a-lot. If you run across a set of Oriental twins, try to strike up a conversation.” “That’s it?” “That’s all he said. Oh, yeah. There was something about staying away from the Dread Forest on your way home.” He shrugged and scowled in thought. “Guess that means you’ll have to take the North Road to get home. Sounds like things aren’t good so I’m glad I happened to run into you. Now I have to get going. Being a pirate is a tough business. You can’t let too many ships get away or they think you’re getting soft. We haven’t made our quota this week.” “You have a quota?” Raulf demanded incredulously. “Who decides what your quota limits are?” “The pirate union, of course. United Pirates and Bandits of Avalon has a complete set of rules and quotas. You’re only allowed to ravish so many maidens—if you can find any—pillaging is limited to Fridays, killing is only allowed on every other Tuesday if you’re using a sword. If you use a stunner, then you can only kill on the last Thursday of the month.” Greenbeard tapped his chin. “And you can only sink ships during the full moon. That’s so any survivors can see to swim ashore.” “Makes sense,” Raulf pronounced judiciously. “I’m happy to hear that your union has things under control.” “Oh, yeah. You should have seen it before. Raping indiscriminately, looting the poor…” Sagely Greenbeard nodded his shaggy green head. “Now looting’s only allowed at the castles and rich estates. Homeowners’ insurance, you know. Poor can’t afford it, the stinkin’ sods. And hey, they don’t have much to loot, anyway.” “That is true.” Struck by the enlightened wisdom of the pirates union, Raulf was moved to offer Greenbeard a drink. “Wine?” The pirate waved him off. “Nah, stuff gives me gas. No one wants to be around a ruddy merman pirate with gas. Smells like dead fish. Really puts the wenches off, you 38

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know?” He stood, stretched and yawned. “Well, time for me to be off. Don’t forget about the Lusty Ale.” “I won’t. Thank you for taking time to drop by our camp.” “Ah, well. Had to see who was using the beach anyway. You wouldn’t believe the vagrants that dump their trash out here. Ruins the environment for everyone else. Pisses the sea frogs off too. Nothing worse than a pissed-off frog.” “Well, you may be sure that we will leave everything as we found it,” Raulf hastily assured the pirate. “Have a successful day!” When Greenbeard and his two cohorts had melted into the darkness beyond the circle of firelight, Timmy muttered, “What do you suppose that was all about?” “I don’t know.” Raulf pulled a chunk of bacon from his pack and sliced strips from it into their small pan before setting it firmly in the coals on the edge of the fire. “He didn’t threaten us. He gave us a message which I can’t believe was so important that Nathan had him break cover to pass it on. Very strange.” Timmy yawned and sat up. “Since you’re frying the bacon, I take it that we’re getting up now.” “Right. I think I want to be on the road at first light which should be right about the time we finish eating.” Raulf turned the bacon, then extracted two thick yeasty rolls from his pack and a heavy package of paper-wrapped cheese. After splitting the rolls he cut two slabs of cheese and inserted them. “How many pieces of bacon?” Timmy just shook his head. “Just split it in half, Raulf. It looks like we have plenty. I have a couple of peaches in my bag. We won’t go hungry.” Raulf slid him a thoughtful look in the flickering firelight. “Why did you suck my cock yesterday?” Shrugging, Timmy looked away. “I’ve wanted to do that since I was fifteen. I figured since you offered the opportunity, I’d see where it went. Did it freak you out?”

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“Not exactly. But it certainly took me by surprise.” Raulf fished the sizzling bacon pieces from the pan, dumping them on top of the prepared cheese slices. After assembling the bun, cheese and bacon, he handed one sandwich to Timmy before taking a hearty bite from his own. Timmy manfully chewed and swallowed. “So what are you saying, Raulf? I mean, help me out here. Are we talking ‘I’ll cut off your lips if you touch me again?’ or are you somewhere around, ‘I can’t wait to get naked and fuck you?’ I kind of would like to know what to expect.” Chewing and swallowing with steady determination, Raulf considered his answer carefully. “Let’s just say that I’m somewhere in the middle right now. We have to retrieve Daffodil and until we’ve successfully taken care of that, we’re not going to worry about anything else.” Nodding agreement, Timmy bit his lip. “Okay. That’s good.” “Just let me ask you one thing. You ever do a threesome with a woman?” Timmy snorted. “With Honeysuckle in the house? What do you think?” “Yeah. That’s true. I don’t know what came over me. I forgot all about Honeysuckle.” “It’s the loss of your cock rings,” Timmy said kindly. “They’re going to your head.”

***** Traveling uncomfortably on the back of a powerbike driven by Chrysanthemum, Daffodil was struggling with discouragement and yes, even a little annoyance. Where the heck was Raulf? Why hadn’t he caught up with them? If he loved her as much as he professed he did then he would come after them. Bad enough that she had to ride on a giant vibrator all day long without having to listen to Chrysanthemum singing some treasonous version of the national anthem at the top of her lungs. Frankly, Daffodil was surprised that their papa didn’t stop her. Of course, it might be that he was getting deaf in his old age. It never occurred to her that 40

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her papa was closer in age to Raulf than she was herself. To her, Raulf was simply Raulf, the man she might be in love with. She squirmed uneasily on the broad leather seat. Who the heck had invented these torture vehicles anyway? Her pussy and clit were so sensitive that she was just seconds away from coming. Oooh, she wished Raulf was with them. They could pretend that he would punish her if she came without his permission! It might almost be worth it to let him be in charge. She wondered if Chrys was getting aroused from the vibrations too. Maybe that’s why she was singing? To hide her excitement? Stars of Avalon, she couldn’t carry a tune in Aunt Hannah’s bucket. Daffodil sure hoped she married a tone-deaf man. She could just envision Chrys singing out in her god-awful screech every time she got close to coming. Not a pretty picture to be sure. To distract herself, Daffodil looked over at Honeysuckle, blithely riding her own bike with their luggage piled behind her. Judging from the way she was steering all over the place, it was a good thing the bikes rode on air cushions instead the old style that had wheels. Narrowing her brilliant blue eyes, Daffodil pondered on the strange change in Honey’s behavior. Yesterday morning when they left, she was sullen and angry. Then they stayed at the Flying Duck Inn and now today she was as happy as a frog with her own pond full of bullfrogs. Something had obviously happened overnight. And knowing Honey, it involved sex with at least two men. Daffodil frowned. There were only two single men at the inn the evening before. Tall, dark-haired delicious specimens with exotic tilted black eyes and cinnamon skin. She had to admit that they weren’t Honey’s usual type. These guys were way too alpha male for Honey who liked to be in charge. But still—there wasn’t anyone else at the inn. Maybe she had a quickie, which Daffodil had to concede wasn’t her norm either. She was actually pretty picky about where and when she had sex. And as far as Daffodil knew, she never had sex with strangers.

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Shrugging off the conundrum of Honey’s odd behavior, Daffodil turned back to her own problems. Where was Raulf? Her spirits plummeted. What if he didn’t follow her after all? What if he was just saying the things he knew she wanted to hear? Her lips trembled as slow tears trickled down her cheek. Impatiently, she brushed them away before the others saw them. She wasn’t a baby. If Raulf didn’t show up in time to save her from a marriage of convenience arranged by her papa, then she would just have to run away. With renewed determination, she settled into working out a plan of escape. No one was going to force her to marry a stranger. Before she reached any satisfying conclusions, they were passing the huddled settlements and tiny farms on the far outskirts of Came-a-lot. Shabby houses slapped together from remnants of bigger structures were crowded together in small ragtag towns that gradually gave way to bigger villages with better organized centers. And then without warning the glittering, white towering walls of Came-a-lot hove into view. The outer wall was so enormous it took Daffodil a few moments to realize that the city was still very far in the distance. A long while later, they passed the huge bronze and steel gates and entered the city. Florian led the way through the teeming streets to Came-a-lot Castle where they all dismounted, groaning in agony from screaming muscles and jittering nerves. Wearily, they followed their papa through the back door, across a bustling kitchen big enough to hold a festival dance, through another shadowy door and down worn squeaking steps to yet another door. Florian banged on the door and thrust it open. Motioning with mounting impatience for the girls to enter, he tossed a small bag of coins on the battered desk occupied by a stern woman who wore her iron gray hair in a tight bun on top of her head. “Susan, these are the girls,” he said curtly. “I leave them in your hands. I’m late and the king has a special event tonight.” Then without so much as a goodbye or other explanation, he was out the door, pounding up the steps.

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A heavy silence fell over the room. Finally Susan nodded briskly. “Well, that was just like Florian. Dump his problems on me and take off like his tail was on fire.” She scrutinized the girls carefully. “First off, you’ll all want a bath and supper. I’ll take you to the room you’ll share and issue your uniforms. After supper we’ll have a brief orientation and then to bed for you. Tomorrow morning breakfast will be at six. After breakfast you will have your physicals with the healers and then I’ll hand out your job assignments. Any questions?” Honeysuckle brushed a strand of red-gold hair back from her face and frowned at the woman. “What are you talking about? Papa said we had to come here to find husbands. He didn’t say a word about working or this other shit you’re talking about. And six o’clock in the morning? I don’t think so.” Susan’s eyebrows twitched. “Of course he didn’t say anything. He’s a man. Men always leave the dirty work to someone else. Nobody stays at the castle for free. If you want to eat, you will work.” She shoved her chair back, stood staring in disbelief at her newest charges just for a second and then led the way out to the hall with a shake of her head. “Follow me.”

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Chapter Four

In which Pansy rouses the Sleeping Dragon In Bart’s interior sleeping chamber Pansy woke alone, shivering with cold. Her tattered dress hung on a hook across the room repairing itself with the regeneration spell she put on it when they went to bed. Back then Bart’s warm body was wrapped around her, providing a blanket of heat. In the dark she patted the bed around her. No Bart. Softly, she called his name. “Bart?” She heard a snort and then a puff of aromatic smoke wafted over her. “What?” “I’m cold.” With a heartfelt sigh, he reluctantly opened his eyes, illuminating the space between Pansy and him. “Well, move back over here. You wiggle around so much when you sleep it’s like nesting with a hummingbird. Jab. Poke. Try to be still,” he grumbled. Pansy crawled over next to him as he tugged a heavy blanket up and spread it over her small body. She snuggled close, basking in the wonderful warmth he radiated. “Hmmm. You’re so hot.” Bart grunted and shut his eyes, plunging them in darkness once more. “Go to sleep.” Her hands brushed against the smooth scales on his belly. Fascinated by the silky, slick surfaces, she rubbed her fingers over them in the dark, enjoying the way they felt under her touch. Caught up in her explorations, she didn’t analyze the strange urge to get closer. Rolling on her side so that her breasts and belly faced her dragon, she thrust the coverlet out of the way. With increasing urgency, she slowly surged against his chest, dragging her turgid nipples across the pebbled surface. He opened one golden eye. “What do you think you’re doing?” 44

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“I don’t know but it feels wonderful.” Abruptly, he rolled her on her back, nudging her legs apart and shifted his heavy body down in the bed so that his head was between her legs. Carefully pinning each leg down with a heavy claw, he opened his mouth and gently puffed warm air across her mound. Then his long forked tongue snaked out and flickered across her tight nipples. With a breathless shriek, she curled up and grabbed at the hard ruffles that lined his jaw. A chuckle rumbled in his chest and he flicked the hard tips again. “So you like that, my Pansy?” His tongue slithered down across her smooth abdomen and plunged in the damp valley between her legs. Her plump folds parted, allowing the sweet scent of her cream to drift to his nostrils. He inhaled deeply before sliding the tip of his tongue in her slippery entrance. Pansy whimpered and writhed on the soft bed. “Uh, Bart? Bart!” He slid his tongue out and flicked it across her tiny clit. “That’s my name!” “Bart!” she shrieked again as he slid one fork across her clit while slipping the other back inside her pussy. She wriggled madly beneath his ministrations, yanking on his jaw ruffles. Suddenly, her entire body convulsed as she came, drenching his tongue with her sweet cream. Bart’s busy tongue extended her climax as he eagerly searched out every drop until she shuddered and collapsed into a satisfied heap. Sliding back up in the bed, he curled around Pansy’s limp body, carefully cradling her against his heat. A quick tug on the blanket spread it over his little faery’s body. He sighed with deep contentment. One thing he’d discovered for himself. Pansy was indeed a virgin. And that meant that he could take her as his mate. A low rumble of possession vibrated in his big chest as for the first time in his life his heart lifted with hope. He resolved to guard her closely. Nothing and no one would harm her in her search for Daffodil’s tooth.

*****

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Strolling through the marketplace just south of Came-a-lot Castle, Raulf and Timmy gawked like the country men that they were. The furthest Raulf had traveled from the LeFleur estate was Ship Town, a small sleepy port on the northern coast that catered to voyagers from Alfland, the other continent on the planet Avalon. Visitors were few and far between as Alflanders were forbidden to leave their continent. The teeming mass of humanity at Came-a-lot was a shock to him. He couldn’t imagine how Timmy was feeling. Born and bred at LeFleur, Timmy had never before traveled farther than the local village. Dodging the children darting between the rickety stands and gaggles of gossiping women with their shopping baskets, Raulf and Timmy turned down a narrow alleyway that led to yet another inn. It was the ninth inn they had inquired at that afternoon. After losing two days on the road with repairs to their powerbikes, they arrived in Came-a-lot to find all the inns were overflowing. The sympathetic innkeeper reluctantly shook his head when Raulf asked about a room for the night. “Why are all the inns full?” he asked in frustration. “Everyone is here for the beginning of the annual Dragon and Virgin Roundup.” Surprise was obvious on the innkeeper’s broad wrinkled face. “Are you no’ here for it?” Raulf shook his head. “No. We’re here on business.” When a chubby flushed servant girl began to move about the room lighting the lamps, Raulf realized that evening was falling. “Can you recommend a good tavern?” “The Lusty Ale is right down the street.” He followed them out the door and pointed them in the right direction before returning to his busy taproom. Raulf and Timmy trudged down the narrow street toward the Lusty Ale, avoiding puddles of noxious liquids and the occasional pile of trash. As they passed a pawn shop, Raulf halted suddenly, scrutinized the contents of the window before pushing open the door. Their few meager coins were long gone, paid to a surly blacksmith for repairing their bikes. Inside the pawn shop, Raulf engaged in spirited haggling that

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resulted in a tidy sum from the sale of two rings Fauna had bestowed on him in one of her rare generous moods. Feeling more secure with the new funds tucked safely in his hip bag, Raulf led the way down the street to the Lusty Ale. He studied the tavern with a critical eye, decided that they probably could spare enough to pay for a hot dinner and they entered a smoky taproom that was so dimly lit they wouldn’t be able to identify any stray substances on the tables. Timmy found them an empty table in the far corner while Raulf ordered two portions of stew, hot bread and ale. While they were eating, Raulf happened to glance up as two men entered. Weary and anxious about their lodging arrangements, it took him a moment to realize that the men were definitely brothers, most likely twins and certainly looked Oriental to him. Immediately he got to his feet, gestured for Timmy to remain at the table and headed for the bar. The noisy room was crowded, with a slippery floor from spilled ale, so by the time he reached the bar, the men were heading for the door. Moving with the nimbleness required of any upper-level servant, he adroitly bumped into the nearest one. With a quick nod, the young man muttered, “Pardon!” “I say,” Raulf replied. “Perhaps you can help me. I’m looking for lodging close by Came-a-lot Castle. My man and I have arrived only this afternoon.” “What’s your business at the castle?” the man demanded curiously. “The king is away on the annual Dragon and Virgin Roundup.” “Good, good,” Raulf said with a predatory gleam in his gray eyes. “That will make it easier to retrieve my property.” “Who are you?” The man was clearly, suddenly alarmed. “I am Raulf, the butler for the LeFleur estate. And property of mine was taken by the youngest LeFleur daughter, Daffodil. I am here to retrieve what belongs to me.” Raulf’s firm reply left no doubt that he was a determined man.

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“How do you plan to accomplish that? The LeFleur ladies are under the protection of the castle guard. As a matter of fact, they even have guards in the garden below their windows.” “Surely, there is someone I can lodge my complaint with?” Raulf protested. His new acquaintance rubbed his lightly stubbled chin slowly while he considered. “Make an appointment with Prince Gareth,” he suggested abruptly. “It will take a couple of days, probably. In the meantime, you might want to check at the Green Man Inn. They’re a little more costly than most but you’ll be more comfortable there if they have a room.” Raulf nodded his agreement. “Thank you.” He turned and made his way back to Timmy who patiently waited at their table. “Well?” “He recommended the Green Man Inn. Interesting young man.” Raulf pondered the purpose behind Nathan’s odd directive. “He didn’t seem to recognize my name so maybe we’re the ones who needed to make contact.” With a light shrug, he sat down to finish his questionable supper. “And after supper?” “We’ll go in search of the Green Man Inn.”

***** “Ow!” Daffodil clapped her hand to her ass as she jerked upright and turned to glare at the young footman behind her. “Keep your hands to yourself!” He merely grinned, cocked an eyebrow at her and sauntered down the dim hallway. Pissed off at yet another assault, she absently rubbed her bruised posterior and calculated how many more days she could bear to stay in the castle. Her three days as a maid had revealed a startling new world. Avalon was a man’s planet, no doubt, a fact that didn’t make her happy at all. On every side, it appeared that any unattached female regardless of age was fair game. Chrysanthemum had 48

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evidently met her true match in Prince Gareth so she was definitely hands off. There were very strong rumors that Honeysuckle was claimed by the Hieney brothers though Daffodil hadn’t seen her since the previous afternoon so it was anybody’s guess if there was any truth in the rumor. Clearly, Raulf wasn’t going to arrive and rescue her from the pinches and stolen kisses she was continually dodging. One man even managed to slip his hands beneath her short uniform skirt, poking his finger in her pussy. When she opened her mouth to scream, he kissed her, plunging his tongue in her mouth in the identical rhythm of his finger in her pussy. His friend yanked her blouse down and tugged on her nipples. Shock held her immobile for some moments but when her brain started working again, a well-placed knee sent them on their way with the nipple twirler supporting the limping pussy plunger. Daffodil gathered her cleaning supplies with a wary eye on her surroundings, stowed them in her basket and hurried toward the kitchen. It was nearly lunchtime, which meant a few blessed moments of peace and quiet. There was no question about it—she had to get out of Came-a-lot Castle. When she reached the strangely silent, empty kitchen, Susan was waiting for her with Daffodil’s bag parked at her feet. The sober expression on her face was Daffodil’s first clue that things were not going well. The huge hulking castle guard waiting with Susan was Daffodil’s second clue that she was in trouble. The wrist cuffs dangling from the guard’s big meaty hands were Daffodil’s third clue that life as she knew it was a thing of the past. In a bewildering blur of activity, she found herself following the guard upstairs to the hearing chamber, wrists cuffed and chained to the guard. Her small bag of possessions swung from one huge hand while he impersonally tugged her along by her wrist chain with the other. When they entered the enormous echoing hearing chamber, Raulf and Timmy were waiting somberly in front of a young man seated on a throne on a high dais. On a table

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in front of them were displayed Raulf’s floggers and the carved cock ring casket with the top open. The guard tugged her into place before the throne and pushed her to her knees. “This is the girl?” the young man on the throne demanded. Raulf nodded. “This is Daffodil LeFleur, the woman who took my property, Your Highness.” Daffodil’s mouth dropped open in shock. She sneaked a glance at the young man on the throne, realized that he was the one who claimed Chrysanthemum and allowed a small sigh of relief to escape. Surely he wouldn’t believe this nonsense. The prince turned to her guard. “Rogoss, you found the stolen property in her possession?” “The items were hidden in her baggage, my prince. It was the baggage identified by Miss Chrysanthemum as you requested.” “I didn’t take that stuff!” Daffodil yelled indignantly. Ignoring her outburst, Prince Gareth smiled at Raulf. “In that case, I rule in favor of Raulf the butler with the understanding that you will secure the woman as soon as possible with the marriage collar. We are agreed?” “Yes, Your Highness. I have the marriage collar and cuffs in my possession.” Raulf’s stern expression stunned Daffodil. This wasn’t the gentle, loving Raulf of her experience. This man was definitely not amused. Suddenly, she was more afraid than she had ever been. At the thought of what he might do to her when he had her in his power her pussy seized and liquid trickled out, dampening her thighs. Against the sheer gathered fabric of her blouse her nipples rose to sharp, clearly visible points as she shuddered in arousal. Faint smiles flicked across Raulf’s and Timmy’s faces when they noted her swift, unmistakable reaction to the sentence. Raulf’s eyes glittered with grim amusement when the guard handed over her chain. Daffodil was in for a surprising afternoon. He was determined to demonstrate his mastery from the beginning.

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***** Bart and Pansy crouched in the bushes near Morgana’s deserted tower. Crouching didn’t do much good in Bart’s case as his shoulders and massive head poked up well above the bushes but at least Pansy was out of sight, tucked down between his knees. When they arrived in the vicinity they were stunned to find considerable activity around the tower. A small crowd of men dragged two unconscious prisoners into the tower before reappearing and locking the door. They trooped away into the gathering gloom of evening, leaving their prisoners behind in the darkened tower. The dragon and faery waited patiently to see what would happen next. As the darkness deepened the tower began to glow both inside and out, lighting up the entire area. Pansy nodded as her suspicions were confirmed. Morgana had installed a new security spell. Tapping her chin in thought, Pansy leaned back against Bart’s belly and discovered that his cock was in the way—again. Clearly, they were going to have to do something about it. She had to admit that the horny dragon was quite an intimidating sight, if you didn’t look at his face. Somehow, the huge spectacles, tied securely in place with a green paint-spattered bandana, ruined the overall effect. At the moment, his ears were standing straight up and his wings were fluttering in distress. She cuddled against his belly and gently patted his chest. “What are we going to do with you, Bart? You’re hard all the time.” “Well, if you weren’t rubbing against me with your sexy little body…” he began in that low growl that made her pussy cream even more. “There has to be a solution,” she said firmly. “You can’t walk around with a hardon the size of a Yule log. It’s distracting!” “I told you we should bond first,” Bart grumbled with a puff of smoke. “But no-oo, you had to find this freakin’ tooth first.”

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“Okay, okay.” Pansy hastily deflected the lecture she sensed was in the offing. “Tell you what! We’ll go back to your cave and do this bonding thing you keep yapping about. Then I’ll go find the tooth!” “We’ll go find the tooth,” Bart amended in a no-nonsense tone. “In the morning!” “What?” “In the morning. By then, I won’t be so obvious.” Bart cradled her in one arm and made his way back to the trail. “Of course, we’ll have to be more careful because the dreamtime flowers will affect me in that form—” “What form?” Pansy demanded in exasperation. “You’ll see.” Pansy wriggled around, rubbing against Bart until he was forced to clamp one paw around her back, pinning her to his chest. “Hold still!” “Bart!” she hissed. “What happens when we bond?” “I’ll explain everything when we get to the cave. In the meantime, quit nudging my cock with your toes, for crying out loud! Do you know how much that tickles?” She went still. “It does? Tickles?” One tiny toe crept out and tapped the top of his cock. “It’s really soft and really hard at the same time. Like a suede-covered pole. I bet it will feel so good against my pussy.” Bart grunted and triumphantly carried her into his cave, heading directly for his sleeping chamber. Enough was enough. Pansy was going to finally learn exactly what it meant to be bonded with a dragon! He gently stood her on her feet and ripped the fragile filmy dress from her body, casually tossing it over his shoulder before lifting her in one paw and settling back in the bed with her sprawled on his chest. “Bart?” “Yep?”

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“What are we doing?” Pansy asked breathlessly. “You just tore my dress to shreds and—” “Now we’re going to finish the bonding so that I can fuck you. Once I finally get my cock inside you, I may never take it out. But first the bonding!” Bart held her in place while he scooted up in the bed so his back was against the wall. “Now! Spread your legs, Pansy, and straddle my cock.” With a low moan, Pansy did as he directed while he helped her move into place. Her soft, drenched petals brushed over the soft skin covering his cock. The small holes running the length of his cock in two parallel rows stimulated her pussy, rubbing against her clit as she frantically rocked on the hard pole between her legs. She had no idea why it was so incredibly exciting but that didn’t seem to matter! “That’s right, sweetheart,” Bart huffed and puffed, elated that they were nearly there. Where there was exactly, he wasn’t sure but it all felt so incredibly good that he didn’t want to stop. “Holy stars of Avalon, that feels good! Squeeze your legs together tighter.” Pansy wriggled harder, trying to find that elusive spot that would push her over into climax but nothing seemed to work. “Bart? What are we doing?” she panted out in frustration. “I need something! I don’t know what it is but it’s not happening! I want what you did last night!” Bart froze and then swore. “Well, that can’t be right!” he declared with a growl. “I’m not even sure we’re doing it correctly. All the books I read didn’t explain the mechanics very well, except to say that you have to have your pussy rubbing my cock!” Pansy straightened up, staring at him in consternation. “Don’t you know what we’re supposed to be doing? Didn’t your papa tell you what to do?” Bart squirmed in embarrassment, nearly unseating his faery lover. “Not exactly. Papa died when I was little. And it’s not exactly like I can ask Mama! This is so damned embarrassing, Pansy!”

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She shoved her sweaty curls back from her flushed face and sighed. “Well, we have to ask someone,” she declared in exasperation. “Unless you have the books here?” “Of course I have them here! Where else would I keep them? You think I want someone to find out I don’t know what I’m doing?” he growled. “What good are they?” She crawled up his belly until she could slide down on the bed. “Go get them. Maybe if we read them together, they’ll make more sense. We’ll just follow the directions one step at a time,” she declared with calm practicality. “I’m sure we’ll be able to make it all work.” Bart rolled from the bed and stomped off into the other room, torn between massive mortification and deep relief because Pansy hadn’t laughed at his ignorance. He returned a few moments later with a huge pile of books. Dumping them down next to the bed, he gestured at them in disgust. “Where will we start?” Pansy perused the titles slowly before pointing to one near the bottom. “That one. Secrets of the Bonding—Dragon Sex for Beginners. We’re definitely beginners. Did you read that one?” “I tried. It was so boring I kept falling asleep. Shouldn’t it at least be exciting enough to keep us awake?” he asked doubtfully. Absently, he reached up to straighten his glasses which were badly askew and fogged up besides. He slid the knotted bandana from the earpieces and used it to polish the lenses before sliding them up his broad nose. “Maybe that’s our job. After all, we were excited—at least I was,” she declared with a scowl. “So now we need to find out the next step.” Resigned to his fate, Bart tugged her selection from the pile, climbed back up into the bed with Pansy settled in his lap with her legs wrapped around his cock and opened the book for their perusal. The first illustration had them staring in fascinated disbelief. Nothing in life is ever easy.

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“That’s not possible,” Pansy declared flatly. “You would squish me like one of Aunt Hilda’s crepes.” Unwilling to give up, she carefully read the caption under the illustration. Thoughtfully, she persuaded Bart to turn the book until it was upside down. They studied the illustration from the new angle. Finally Bart ventured, “That’s possible, Pansy. We could try that.” “Okay,” she agreed. “But first let’s finish this chapter. We don’t want to stop in the middle again.” He shuddered. “No, you’re right about that. We’ll definitely finish this chapter first.” He flipped the book back over and they began to read.

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Chapter Five

Daffodil has a Punishing Ride The old powerbike sputtered and bucked as Raulf guided it through the high mountain range that bordered the North Road. The jittering vibrations magnified the effect of the buzzing dildo and butt plug combination that Daffodil wore as she rode behind him, wrists securely cuffed around his waist. The leather seat was soaked with her creamy secretions as she struggled to stave off her climax. Raulf had made it perfectly clear that her punishment would be swift if she came without permission. Bringing up the rear on the other bike, Timmy rode in their wake, blissfully happy with the outcome at Came-a-lot. All was as it should be. Daffodil was back in Raulf’s possession. He smiled widely at the thought of helping Raulf punish Daffodil. From his viewpoint everything was wonderful. Raulf, on the other hand, was pondering all the unlikely information he had acquired in Came-a-lot. Prince Gareth had privately informed him that the Asian twins, Peter and Dick Hieney, had indeed claimed Honeysuckle for their mate. Chrysanthemum was also spoken for by Prince Gareth himself. With the rumors of a coup against Gareth’s father, King Arthur, increasing daily, Gareth was concerned for the sisters’ welfare. He urged Raulf to return home via the North Road and the Ship Town Road, well away from the Dread Forest where it was rumored the rebel forces held sway. And then Prince Gareth diffidently asked a favor of Raulf. It seemed that the king’s pet rock, Sidney, was missing. Gareth believed that Morgana’s sniveling son, Nigel— who had extremely sticky fingers—had taken it the week before when he dropped by the castle. Whenever Nigel showed up, everything that wasn’t nailed down disappeared.

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Following his strong recommendations Raulf headed north with map in hand, planning to stay overnight at Piebald Crossing. Rogoss assured him that there was a well-stocked inn at the village. And Nigel had carelessly mentioned that he was going to the semiannual flea market and turkey races just north of Piebald Crossing. As with the best of plans, it went awry almost as soon as they were out of sight of Came-a-lot. Deep in the mountains as noon drew near, their bikes abruptly lost power, tumbling to the ground. After releasing Daffodil from his waist and ascertaining that none of them suffered any injury worse than bruises, Raulf kicked his powerbike with a scuffed brown boot and surveyed their surroundings. Woods. Trees and more trees. Bandits and rebels weren’t the only dangers in the woods. Aside from wild animals, poisonous shooting thorn bushes and dreamtime flowers waited for the unwary. With a deep sigh of disgust, he pulled out the communicator Nathan had provided, intending to summon help, only to discover it was dead. Raulf pursed his lips and considered the possibilities. The mountains were known to interfere with powerbikes and communicators in the past but never on a main road. Someone was running a power interrupter. It had to be close by which meant that they needed to get off the road at once. “Timmy, you have the most experience in the woods. Scout around and find us some shelter. Watch out for rebels in the woods. Someone has a power interrupter in use.” Raulf jerked his bike upright and kicked the stands into place. “I’m going to remove Daffodil’s toys while you’re scouting. We need to be ready to run.” Content to follow Raulf’s directions, Timmy slipped into the woods to carry out his mission while Raulf bent Daffodil over the bike seat. As Timmy moved from tree to bush, he sensed the danger lurking in the dark cool trees. Following a hunch, he returned to the edge of the woods, scouted the grassy verge and then dashed across the road to the other side. Plunging into the woods with a wary eye for the thorn bushes and dreamtime flowers, he halted in a tiny clearing that was barely big enough for him to stretch his arms out and intently listened to the silence surrounding him.

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A few breathless moments later the small sounds of wood life resumed. His eyes wandered over the leaf-littered floor, noting the signs of deer and other small creatures that made the woods their home. Then he realized that he was looking at an actual dim trail and he set out to see where it would lead him. Back on the verge, Daffodil leaned over the sturdy bike seat with her ass bared to the sun while Raulf removed her dildo and butt plug. Her sensitive breasts with their taut nipples brushed against the far edge of the wide seat, eliciting a shudder she was unable to suppress. “Don’t come.” Raulf’s quiet voice was firm. “I didn’t.” Though she whispered, he heard her in the silence of the mountains. “I don’t believe I gave you permission to speak,” he observed gently and she shuddered again as a fresh rush of cream trickled from her pussy. “Stand up.” Instantly obeying his soft command, she straightened up, dragging her aching breasts across the soft leather seat. When she was upright, he turned her to face him, tilting her head back with one strong calloused finger under her chin. “Look at me.” Her dark blue eyes met his which were icy gray with determination. “You are mine. I take that responsibility very seriously. I will protect you. I will never harm you. But you are not now, nor ever will be in charge. Do you understand?” She nodded hesitantly, clearly confused by the rapid changes in her life. He studied her for a long moment. “Probably, you don’t truly understand yet. But you will. We will be married as soon as I locate a willing priest. You will wear the marriage collar and cuffs. And when I find a competent healer, your nipples and clit will be pierced for the proper rings. From the moment the prince gave you to me as restitution for your theft, you became my wife under Avalonian law—if that was my choice. I registered that decision with the court at Came-a-lot. The rest is mere formality so that you understand your place.” She licked her lips and frowned. Tilting his head to one side, he nodded. “You may speak.”

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“I, uh, I don’t understand how someone can just give me away…” her voice trailed off on a sigh. “Before you so impetuously embarked on a life of crime, you should have asked your sister what the penalty for theft was. She would have explained that if you couldn’t afford to make restitution—which you can’t—then your life is forfeit.” He shrugged and then turned her so her back was facing him. “Theft is a serious business on Avalon. If I so chose I could sell you. Or I could give you to the abbey. Or even to a passing stranger. Fortunately for you, I happen to love you.” Slow tears trickled down her face as his explanation sank in. “I’ve loved you forever, it seems. There’s no other reason I would have tolerated you ordering me around like a dog.” His cool tones made her wince in shame. “I didn’t take your cock rings. I don’t know who did. I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m sure you are, especially when we found them in your bag. I don’t think you know exactly what you’re sorry for at this point. That’s something we’ll work on. In the meantime, I expect immediate obedience. Whatever I require, you will obey. Is that clear?” “Yes.” Her nearly soundless reply was a soft hiss in the still air. “Good. Pull your blouse down so that your breasts are exposed.” Objections crowded her mouth, fighting to get past her clenched teeth but she obeyed, pulling the stretchy blouse down until it was tucked beneath her breasts. “Now clasp your hands behind you at your waist and turn around to face me.” Trembling, she followed his directions, facing him with her breasts shuddering with every breath. As he watched her with those cool, emotionless eyes, she felt the nipples tighten painfully under his gaze. “I’m nearly certain that we are under observation. I want to make very sure that our observers understand that you are taken. Very sure.” He pulled a soft leather collar from his pocket and fastened around her neck. “You will wear this until I exchange it

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for the marriage collar. Since I am uncertain of exactly what degree of danger we are in, I will not fasten the cuffs to the collar as would be customary. But unless I tell you otherwise, you will maintain this position. Clear?” She nodded just as he saw Timmy emerge from the woods. “Good. Timmy’s coming. If he’s located shelter, we’ll be moving through the woods. You may use your hands and arms as necessary to reach shelter. Hopefully, it will be a secure place where you can remove that clothing. I find it annoys me.” Shocked at the idea of nudity outside the safety of her bedroom or his dungeon, her eyes flew to his face, noting the small smile of satisfaction playing across his firm lips. He nodded at the query in her eyes. “Whenever we are behind the closed doors of our home, you will be naked. I want to be able to touch you, lick you, suck your nipples or clit whenever the desire strikes me. In the beginning, that will probably be almost constantly. My cock has been hard for you so long that I don’t remember when it wasn’t erect. Only the snug fit of my zipsuit makes me fit to be in public.” Timmy’s steps slowed as he crossed the last few feet of grass to their position. Raulf flicked him a glance. “Find anything?” “There’s an abandoned shack that backs onto a cave. Plenty of deadwood for a fire in the area. A small spring in the cavern for water. Only really old human tracks. I set some snares on the way back so we may be able to have fresh meat for supper.” “Sounds perfect. Unpack your bike. We’ll split the baggage between us except for Daffodil’s bag. She should be able to manage that.” Daffodil stood motionless while they unpacked the baggage, dumping it temporarily at her feet and shoved the inoperable bikes into the woods. Then distributing the packs between them, they set off with Timmy in the lead, followed by Daffodil and finally Raulf bringing up the rear. The shack Timmy found wasn’t very far from the road and Raulf was relieved to confirm his assistant’s assessment of the area. Inside the shack, a chair and rickety table were the sole furnishings. Though there was a bedstead, it was missing any type of mattress or even the ropes that usually ran 60

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between the framing. Raulf dismissed it without a thought as he helped Timmy drag the table and chair into the cave after wiping the dust and cobwebs away with a bedraggled broom leaning in a corner. Timmy went back out for a load of wood while Raulf settled Daffodil in the lone chair and finished organizing their impromptu camp. His two small emergency lights didn’t provide much illumination but once they had a fire started, there would be enough light to get around safely. Daffodil removed her small mirror from her pack and propped it on the table behind one of the lights which increased visibility a bit. As he worked, Raulf came to the conclusion that while the shack probably hadn’t been used in a long time, the cavern was clearly regularly utilized. The fire circle was well crafted and clean. The spring was likewise well cared for, clean and running freely. By the time Timmy returned with his load of wood and two freshly skinned rabbits, Raulf had finished settling their belongings in a workable camp. Raulf quickly built the fire while Timmy finished sectioning the rabbits and skewering them on two long narrow strips of metal that he pulled from his bag along with a set of cast-iron forks, which they pounded into the ground next to the fire with a couple of fist-sized rocks. As Timmy hooked the two skewers over the forks like a couple of spits, Daffodil watched it all with fascination. She had never ventured into the woods, let alone stayed in such primitive conditions. It had never occurred to her to wonder how people survived in the wild. And that brought another need to mind. With trepidation, she inquired about bathroom arrangements. Raulf led her to a small alcove he’d located while exploring the cave. The crude latrine pit made its purpose obvious. Daffodil stared down at the hole in the ground in appalled dismay. “That? How am I supposed to use that?” Impatiently, Raulf explained, “Straddle the hole and squat. Here you have privacy. Or I can take you out in the woods where you can do the same thing in the open where anyone can watch you. Your choice this time.”

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“I can’t believe people live like this.” She took the light he offered and waited until he walked away before making fast use of the facilities. How had her life come to this? Peeing in a cave in the dark? With a shudder, she made her way back to the fire and sat on the chair, grateful that she didn’t have to sit on the dirt floor like Raulf and Timmy. Raulf gestured for her to stand up. “It’s warm enough for you to take off the clothes,” he announced matter-of-factly. “Then you can undress Timmy and me.” Daffodil’s mouth dropped open. “I—” “Immediate obedience is the requirement,” he reminded her coolly. She froze, staring at him like a trapped animal. After a moment, he clicked his teeth. “Timmy, obviously, she needs assistance. Can you help her undress?” Before Timmy could get to his feet, Daffodil shot off the chair like Raulf had lit a fire under her ass. Hurriedly she peeled the blouse and skirt off, folding them neatly and placing them on the table. Disappointed, Timmy subsided back to his place next to the fire. “Now undress me.” Raulf bounced to his feet and stood at the foot of the pallet he had arranged next to the fire. He stood motionless while she knelt at his feet and unfastened the clips on his boots. They slipped off easily once the clips were undone. Then she stood and unfastened the zip fasteners on his zipsuit, peeling it from his strong, familiar body as she moved downward, revealing his muscled arms and lightly furred chest, that flat, rippled abdomen with the faint trail of hair that led to his cock. Her hands brushed over his firm flanks as she tugged the stretchy suit down past his ass. His cock bounced free, nudging her cheek. She fought the weird urge to take the dark, dribbling crown in her mouth. Oddly enough the only experience she had with cock sucking was a one-time experiment with Timmy in the barn. With brisk determination, she continued with her task, ignoring the plump heavy balls nestled between his thighs. Finally, tugging the last of the fabric past his sturdy legs until it pooled at his ankles, she waited as he lifted first one foot and 62

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then the other so that she could slip the cloth over his feet. With a silent sigh of relief, she stood, shook out the suit and folded it neatly, placing it with her clothes on the table. “Now Timmy.” Timmy was quick to take his place next to Raulf. Daffodil fumbled for a moment with his boots before yanking them free. Then standing in front of Timmy, she began to undress him. Raulf moved behind her, reached around and cupped her breasts, tweaking gently at her nipples. She whimpered and froze. Raulf’s lips brushed her ear. “Undress Timmy,” he murmured. In a flash of old memory, she remembered the day she and Honeysuckle were stretched out on an old blanket in the barn loft watching it rain. “Raulf wants to share you with another man,” Honey said out of the blue. “What? Are you crazy? Raulf does what I tell him to do.” “Not forever, Daffodil. Someday that will change. And when it does, he will share you. Count on it. He likes to watch another man make his woman come.” “Undress Timmy, Daffodil.” Raulf’s low, persuasive voice jerked her back to the cavern. With trembling fingers she spread Timmy’s zipsuit open, pushing it off his broad, tanned shoulders that were lightly sprinkled with freckles. He helped her with the tight fabric covering his arms and then stood stock still as she brushed it down to his waist. All the time, Raulf was lightly tugging her nipples, sending pulses of heat to her excited clit and wet pussy. When she tried to squeeze her legs together to relieve some of the building tension, she found that Raulf was prepared to prevent her attempt with his feet placed between hers. “Uhn-uhn-uh, continue. Finish it, Daffodil.” Briefly, she shuddered before muttering, “I have to squat down to finish the rest.”

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“Bend over from the waist. I’m sure Timmy will accommodate you by moving if need be.” Immediately, Timmy moved back while she bent to peel the suit over his hips. Behind her, Raulf moved closer, sliding his heavy cock in the dark, wet valley between her legs at the same time that Timmy’s cock popped free from the zipsuit, smacking her chin. Daffodil squeaked and tilted her head away from Timmy’s cock. Both men waited patiently, motionless, for her to finish her task. Bending farther and farther until her head was even with his knees, Daffodil finished peeling off Timmy’s zipsuit. When Daffodil started to straighten up, Raulf held her still. “Suck Timmy’s cock. Take it in your mouth and suck him off.” “Uh…” Raulf smacked her ass with his open palm. “Do it. It won’t be the first time. I saw you and Honeysuckle in the barn that time. Open your mouth.” Timmy blushed hot in the firelight. “Raulf!” “Hold her head for her, Timmy.” Raulf dropped to his knees and brushed his tongue over her wet, glistening folds. Even in the dim light, the extent of her arousal was evident. The scent of her feminine perfume was all around them. As she tentatively sucked Timmy’s strong, young cock, more fluid trickled from her pussy onto Raulf’s eager tongue. She jerked and moaned around Timmy’s cock when Raulf thrust his tongue deep inside her. “Do you want to come, Daffodil?” Without releasing Timmy’s cock, she nodded eagerly. “Then take both of us.” Raulf moved back and waited for her answer. Allowing Timmy’s cock to slide free, she closed her eyes and nodded her head. “All right.” “You freely agree?” Raulf queried carefully. “You will allow both of us to fuck you together?”

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“Yes,” she whispered, knowing that she had waited a lifetime for him to demand this first and final submission. If she agreed, there would be no turning back. Nothing else he would ask of her would be as difficult or important. This act was her surrender. Chirping little beeps emanated from the table. Raulf jumped up and pawed through the clothing until he found the little communicator. Pressing the message button, he frowned over the lines of text blinking at him. King abducted by Blue Knight. Nigel gone to Two Trick Tavern. Proceed to Cock and Balls Tavern at Piebald Crossing for instructions. That would be a fine thing, if we had a way to get there, Raulf thought sourly. He tapped in a return message, indicating their problems, including his conclusion that someone was using a power interrupter. While they waited for an answer and because he had a very bad feeling about how things were going, they all hastily yanked on clothing and packed up. Timmy tested the meat, found it done enough and dumped it on a paper sheet on the table. In between clearing up any trace of their presence, they snatched bits of sizzling meat, juggling it from hand to hand to avoid singeing their fingers. A few minutes later Nathan replied, If power interrupter was used, bikes should work now. Get out of there ASAP. Tell us something we didn’t know. Interspersing his explanations with curses, Raulf laid out their plans. Then with Timmy leading the way, they returned to the road, wrested the bikes from the bushes where they were hidden and tried the starters. When Raulf’s flared into action with a loud roar, he immediately shut it down. As quickly as they could, they redistributed the baggage. Daffodil hopped on Raulf’s bike while Timmy and Raulf held a short conference over the crumpled map. Then the men mounted their bikes, hit the starters and they were off like trolls on a rampage headed for Piebald Crossing.

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Chapter Six

Dastardly Plans are afoot for Daffodil and Sidney Two nights later, Raulf wearily leaned back in a steaming tub of water upstairs at the Two Trick Tavern while Daffodil washed his hair. Timmy was out trying to rustle up something for them to eat. Cooking was not one of the specialties of the ladies employed at Two Trick Tavern. When Raulf and his companions first arrived, the management wasn’t inclined to even rent them a room. Fortunately, Timmy volunteered to change their minds and he did it with such lusty gusto that the ladies were presently napping and resting up for the second round. While they dozed, Raulf appropriated their luxuriously appointed bathroom for Daffodil’s and his use. Starving after his workout, Timmy slipped on his zipsuit and declared that he would bathe later as food was far more important. After all, he needed to keep up his strength for round two. Prowling down the dark rubble-strewn alley that separated the Two Trick Tavern— or as it was locally known, the Triple T—from the rest of the scruffy little village, Timmy observed a man darting stealthily from one of the shadowy huts near the edge of the village. Curious, Timmy followed him to a dimly lit squat building near the center of the village. Further cogitation led Timmy to conclude that the building must be an alehouse where the locals gathered for a pint or two. And where there was ale, there was usually food. He pulled open the heavy door and poked his head in just to be sure his conclusions were correct. Happy to see that they were, he slipped inside and made for the nearest empty high-backed booth. A plain young woman with a frankly unbelievable bosom spilling from her tight gathered blouse approached almost at once.

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“What’ll ya have?” she demanded while giving the tabletop a lick and a promise with her grungy towel. Timmy kept a leery eye on her straining top, positive that it was going to give way at any moment. Those were lethal weapons she was carting around and he wanted to make sure he wasn’t in the line of fire when her top exploded. “What do you have?” he asked absently. “Venison stew, chicken pot pie and hot bread.” She rattled it off with the bored expression of a woman who’s been on her feet too long. “I’ll have one of everything and a pint of ale.” Timmy edged deeper in the booth and glanced around the dark room as she stomped away with her blouse still intact. They must use some strong fabric in waitress outfits, he decided as he watched her leave. Only three lights flickered in the room, providing minimal illumination. He caught a whiff of smoke that revealed the presence of someone smoking illegal Earth cigarettes in the small room. Obviously, the local justice system was pretty lax. The young woman returned with a tray loaded down with steaming food. It landed on the table with a thud as her breasts shimmied beneath the top. Hastily, Timmy helped her unload the tray. She shot him an odd glance and flounced off to get his ale. Timmy grabbed a hot yeasty roll from the bread basket, tore it apart and dunked it in the smoking stew. Lifting the dripping bread to his mouth, he took a hearty bite and sighed with relief. It was delicious. The cook was probably a troll, he speculated. They were the best cooks in the kingdom. Without further hesitation, he dug in. He had polished off the stew and was nearly finished with the chicken pot pie when he heard the name “Sidney” from the booth behind him. Pausing in his eating, he listened intently. “Oh please! What kind of idiot keeps a pet rock?” a male with a whiny light tenor voice exclaimed.

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“When you’re the king you can have any kind of pet you want—even a rock,” a deeper voice replied and with horror, Timmy recognized Florian LeFleur was the speaker. Tenor voice laughed heartily. “That’s exactly why we need a new ruler. Tomorrow morning I’ll take Sidney to the blacksmith and borrow his anvil and sledgehammer. When I finish, Sidney will just be a pile of marbles.” Florian growled. “Don’t be stupid, Nigel. All that will do is make the king angry. You’ll fuck the plan and your mother will lock you away with the pixies. Quit screwing around with the damned pet rock. Everything is under control. Our spies have informed me that my ex-butler Raulf has talked that idiot Gareth into giving Daffodil to him. It should be very easy to snatch her right from under his nose.” “The butler did it, huh?” Nigel chortled in glee. “I always wanted to say that.” Timmy heard Florian sigh gustily. “I cannot believe Morgana is your mother. She must be tearing her hair out. No wonder she suffers from PMS. I would have drowned you at birth. Get me the damned pet rock so I can return it to the king. We don’t want him to suspect a thing. Then go to the turkey races like you said you were going to.” “What? I don’t want to go to the turkey races! I decided to go visit the ladies at the Triple T,” Nigel declared petulantly. “No. Do as you’re told. If Nathan’s spies can’t find you where you’re supposed to be, it will mess up the plan.” Timmy felt the seat shake when Florian shifted impatiently. “Do it tonight because I have to meet Ninian at the Hieney estate tomorrow.” Nigel snorted. “What the fuck does Ninian want with the Hieneys?” “Marriage,” Florian retorted succinctly. “Ling–Ling is close enough to the throne to provide a certain legitimacy to his claim once Arthur and his get are gone.” There was a long pregnant silence. “You are all out of your minds. You think I’m crazy? Not even close. I just took his stupid pet rock. You’re talking about assassination. Who’s stupid enough to take on that project?” 68

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“Daffodil.” Timmy nearly cried out in shock at Florian’s cool rejoinder. “Morgana obtained her tooth when she was a little girl. She spelled it long ago and now the time has come to use it. All we have to do is get Daffodil close enough to the king. Arthur is on his way to Sher Wood.” “Sher Wood? I thought Percival the dragon was holding him hostage?” “Stupid dragon found a virgin on his own so he kicked the king and his knights out of his cave before we could move.” Timmy felt Florian shift again. “Actually, this will work better. Everyone we want to capture in one spot. Once Daffodil does her part, mopping up the rest of them shouldn’t be too difficult. Get the pet rock and bring it to me now!” Timmy didn’t wait for Nigel to move. He slid some coins onto the table, scooted out of the booth and was on his way out the door. Raulf and Daffodil were going to have to wait for their food. He had a pet rock thief to follow.

***** Daffodil wasn’t in a position to worry about dinner. Raulf had her all tied up. While Daffodil had complete confidence that Raulf would never hurt her, the rope bondage was a tad scary. It required complete surrender, trusting herself and her safety to his care. She stood perfectly still while he moved around her in a silent rhythm he seemed to hear in his head. Back, front, to, fro, up, down, weaving the ropes around her breasts, arms, waist, down between her legs, knot, knot, knot placed strategically on her clit, pussy, anus, back up between her ass cheeks to tie at her waist. He patted her gently on her butt. “Walk over to the door and back,” he said. Relieved that she would be permitted to move around, she eagerly moved away— and gasped as the knots rubbed back and forth, sparking little jolts of sensation. “Perfect.” He pursed his lips but she was certain he was staving off a laugh. She could see the twinkle in his eyes. “Put on your blouse and skirt. We’ll go find something to eat since Timmy seems to have disappeared.”

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“Like this?” Not for anything did she want him to know how aroused she was by the bondage and the stimulation of the devilish knots. Fluid slowly trickled from her pussy, dampening the rope and providing slick lubrication. “Is there a problem?” he inquired coolly. Daffodil swallowed carefully. “No problem.” With a jerk of his head, he indicated the door. “Hurry up. I’m hungry and it may take a while to find something to eat.” He moved over and leaned against the wall next to the door, frowning at Timmy’s continued absence. He’d been gone for at least two hours. Surely the town wasn’t so big that he got lost. The door burst open and Timmy rushed in, slamming it shut behind him. “Got it!” he declared triumphantly. “Got what? Obviously not our dinner!” Raulf observed sourly. “Sidney!” Timmy’s face, aglow with his achievement, was smeared with drying blood. One eye was swelling shut. But in his hand he clutched a cylindrical-shaped rock with two round lumpy protrusions at one end. Eyes were painted on the protrusions and the cylinder was painted a shocking pink. Raulf eyed it with revulsion, recognizing Prince Gareth’s description hadn’t done Sidney justice. It was a revolting souvenir from Earth depicting male genitalia. Along the length of the hot pink cock, somebody had lettered, Party On, Dude! With a heavy sigh, he looked back up at Timmy’s face. “What happened?” Timmy brushed impatiently at a trickle of blood that threatened to drip in his eye from the cut on his forehead. “I found the alehouse. Had dinner. While I was eating, I heard these two men talking. One was Nigel.” His eyes widened in remembrance. “You’ll never believe it, Raulf! The other guy was Florian! He’s one of the rebels!” Daffodil gasped in shock as she yanked her blouse over her head. “What?” Raulf merely nodded. “I suspected as much. Go on. Then what?”

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“I followed Nigel when he left to get Sidney. He was supposed to take him back to Florian.” “What did you do with Nigel?” “Knocked him out and tied him up.” Timmy mumbled a curse as he swayed against the door. “Man, my head hurts. I think he hit me with Sidney.” Leading him over to the lone chair in the room, Raulf sighed impatiently. “Let’s get you cleaned up and check the damage. Give me the damned pet rock.” He took the revolting souvenir from Timmy, shook his head over the truly garish paint job and handed it to Daffodil. “What shall I do with it?” “Pack it in your bag. Obviously, we’re going to have to move on. If your father is here, we certainly can’t stay in town. Now, Timmy, while I’m cleaning this cut, tell me everything you overheard.” Raulf listened intently while Timmy related the conversation. Daffodil gasped and cursed when he mentioned her tooth and her planned part in the plot. “The king? They think I’ll kill the king? I don’t even know the man!” “Well, that wouldn’t be a problem. As long as Arthur thinks Florian is loyal to him, what would prevent your father from introducing you to the king?” “That’s wicked!” she declared. “Uh-hmm. First they have to find you. Timmy, I’m not so sure that you should travel tonight. That lump on your head is worrisome.” He frowned in thought. “Daffodil, run downstairs and ask the ladies for some ice. And inquire if any of them is a healer.” She flounced out of the room, twitching and wriggling as the rope slithered across her clit and pussy. The stairs presented all sorts of challenges. Her hips jerked to the side every time one of the knots zinged across her anus. By the time she reached the

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foot of the stairs, she was alternately whimpering and cursing. It took her a few minutes to locate the ladies in the lounge. When they realized it was Timmy in need of their assistance, they rushed up the stairs, leaving Daffodil to find the surly cook and ask for ice. Then she was faced with the task of going up the stairs. Going up presented an entirely new challenge as the front knot slid back and forth over her clit with a vengeance. She reached the landing and nearly went to her knees as climax yawned just one step away. Raulf opened the bedroom door and peeked out impatiently. “Daffodil? What’s taking so long?” Then her saw her standing on the landing with her legs crossed, in obvious distress. Immediately he went to her, relieved her of the bowl of ice, setting it on the floor and pulled her into his loving embrace. Tucking her head beneath his chin, he whispered, “Come. Now.” Shuddering with the hot waves that inundated her, Daffodil clung to Raulf, desperately trying to be still. Every time she moved, a fresh wave of heat washed up her spine. Finally she was still. Raulf lifted her in his arms and carried her back to the bathroom where he swiftly undressed her and removed the ropes before settling her in the hot tub. “Relax,” he directed. “I’ll go check on Timmy. The ladies assured me that they can keep us undercover for tonight but we’ll need to leave before dawn in the morning.” He went out, pulling the door shut behind him. He was back in a few moments with a pile of towels. “Okay, out with you.” He lifted her from the tub, briskly dried her off and wrapped her in a bath sheet before carrying her back to their room. Timmy and the ladies were nowhere in sight but two chairs and a table loaded down with steaming platters of food had miraculously appeared. Raulf settled her at the table, served her plate and admonished her to eat. “Get to bed as soon as you finish. I’m going to make sure our powerbikes are well hidden and then I’ll be right back. Tomorrow, we’ll head home.” 72

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***** Early the next morning, well before dawn, Raulf and Daffodil rode away from the Two Trick Tavern. After considerable thought, Raulf had tried to reach Nathan the Sneak with no success. His next thought was to try Gareth, who was also out of touch. He had no way to reach anyone else of importance and it seemed to him that the information about Florian should be shared with somebody a little higher up the food chain. Finally after lying awake worrying over the problem for far too long, Raulf determined to go directly to Sher Wood in search of the king. That would also allow him to satisfactorily discharge his mission to rescue Sidney. Not only could he pass on the information but he could safely restore Sidney to his royal owner, thereby completing his quest for Prince Gareth. He was pretty sure that it was always a good thing to have a royal relative who owed you a favor. Conversation was impossible with the roar of the powerbike as they whizzed down Ship Town Road in the dark. Grimly, Raulf reflected that their passage certainly wasn’t going to be a secret. His only hope was Daffodil, who was hanging on to him for dear life. Perhaps Robin’s merry men would think twice before attacking them. He certainly hoped so. Raulf had no way of knowing that most of the other principals were en route to Sher Wood also. Gareth and Chrysanthemum were trekking across the High Plains after fleeing from Solomon’s Choice Abbey where Gareth had killed His Eminence the Abbot. Honeysuckle and her two lovers, Dick and Peter Hieney, were hightailing it up the Sher Wood Road in search of sanctuary from Morgana. And King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Dungeon were straggling north from Percival’s cave in the Dread Forest. In the meantime Raulf had charged Timmy with stern directions to return to the LeFleur estate and seek out Bart. Once they pooled their information, Timmy was instructed to use the communications center in the dungeon to report in to Nathan.

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Back at the Two Trick Tavern Timmy was in no hurry to leave. The ladies at the Triple T discovered that he was possessed of a limber, tireless tongue and an equally tireless, long, thick cock. Ladies in their profession seldom encountered either, so they were most anxious to make use of their good fortune. It was well after ten o’clock before Timmy contentedly headed home to consult with Bart, which would have been a fine thing if Bart and Pansy had been there. Such was not the case as Bart had snagged Nigel trying to sneak into his cave. Nigel was a sorry sight to be sure after Timmy knocked him out and tied him up, for he lay unconscious quite some time in the stable behind the alehouse. It’s possible that Nigel might even have been there the next morning except for one thing. Florian was still sitting in the alehouse. Finally, growing extremely impatient at the interminable wait, Florian went looking for him. Needless to say, Florian was less than pleased when he stumbled across Nigel in a horse stall covered with muck and hay. After slapping him a few times to get his attention, Florian demanded, “Where the fuck is the pet rock?” “Don’ know,” Nigel slurred through swollen lips. “Don’ ‘member.” Florian turned his head and spit into the darkness. “What happened—as if I didn’t know? Somebody knew you had it, you fool!” Shakily, Nigel tried to sit up but didn’t make it, falling heavily back into the filthy straw. “No!” “Yes! Do you think I’m the only one who knows about your nasty little habit? All of Came-a-lot knows to put away everything of value when you show your ugly face.” Florian turned away, heading for the stable door, disgusted and pissed off. “Wha… Where ya goin’?” Nigel asked wearily. “None of your business. I suggest that you get away from here. Maybe go back to Morgana’s tower as she’s not likely to be there. I wouldn’t want to be you when she finds out you lost Arthur’s pet rock.” Florian slammed the flimsy door as he left,

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sending a shudder through the tumbledown stable. Dust and bits of hay showered down on top of Nigel who was too miserable to care. Eventually, he rolled over until he could get to his hands and knees and crawled over to the door. It took a while to clamber to his feet but he made it by the time it was light out. Staggering through the village like a three-day drunk, he made his way back to the small cottage where he had rented a room. His landlord took one look at him and hauled him over to the outdoor water pump. Ignoring his feeble protests, the hulking landlord ruthless ducked his head under the pump and vigorously worked the handle so that a torrent of water gushed out. Nigel gasped and choked and flailed about but the landlord kept pumping until Nigel was cold but clean. Then he dunked him in the horse trough and walked away. Nigel panicked and splashed until he had his head above water. Blearily he stared around, frowning when he noted his bag sitting in lonely splendor on the tiny stoop. That was clear enough. His money was no longer wanted by the owners. Shivering and ticked off, he climbed out of the trough, stripped off his wet clothing, dumping it in the yard and yanked on a clean zipsuit. His boots were ruined and useless so he found his slippers and put them on. Then hefting his bag, he walked away, leaving the wet, ruined stuff behind. It didn’t take long to find his bike. And the dunking had served one purpose at least. The cold water had certainly shocked him awake. By early afternoon, he was back at Morgana’s tower, relieved to find that Florian had called it on the nose. His mother wasn’t at home. Unfortunately, neither were the trolls who normally cooked and cleaned. Hungry and tired, he left the tower in search of something to eat. Nigel was not the brightest star in the sky but even he noticed the tracks leading away from Morgana’s tower. It took him a while to realize that they were dragon tracks but once that filtered into his dim brain, it galvanized him into action. Where there was

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a dragon, there was treasure. And sufficient treasure would buy him whatever he needed—including food. In his abysmal ignorance it never occurred to him that he would first have to wrest the treasure from the dragon in question. With his spirits lifted in anticipation, he trotted along the trail in search of the dragon’s lair. Bart was not in a good mood. Despite his best efforts, he and Pansy had not succeeded in figuring out the intricacies of dragon mating. Stalking around the cave with a hard cock was painful and annoying. It was twice as bad because Pansy was sure it was her fault so she’d been weeping on and off for the last few days. Bart hated it when Pansy cried. That was the uneasy state of things when Nigel blithely tripped through the dark entrance without so much as a by-your-leave or halloo. Since Pansy was sitting naked in front of the fire while Belle laundered her repaired dress, Bart was seriously pissed off when Nigel blurted out, “Naked pussy! Come to papa, baby!” His massive stupidity was quickly impressed on him when Bart snagged him around the waist and dangled him a few feet above an impressive smoking snout. Bart’s unwinking golden eyes studied his captive through the glittering lenses perched on his nose. Soft gray smoke drifted around Nigel’s wriggling body. Bart’s huge mouth opened, allowing his long tongue to slither out and flicker around Nigel’s head. With one terrified shriek, Nigel slumped in Bart’s paw, passed out cold. Bart dumped him on the rug with a disgusted snort. “Pansy, my love, will you fetch the duct tape from my storage chest?” Pansy resisted the urge to stomp over and kick the twerp, trotting off into the other room instead to find the tape. When she returned with two rolls slipped over her wrist like wide bracelets, Belle was waiting to assist her in binding up their prisoner. It was Belle who informed them of the identity of their captive. “What’s this piece of offal doing here?” she demanded, nudging him with one trotter. “Last I heard he was in Came-a-lot, stealing the king’s pet rock.” 76

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“You know who he is?” Bart asked with a scowl. Belle snuffled and poked him again with disdain. “Of course. This is Nigel, Morgana’s good-for-nothing whelp. Idiot, thief and nasty fucker.” Her pink tongue flickered out to lick her chin. “It’s his kind who give males a bad name.” With swift efficiency, she had Nigel bound hand and foot and as a final touch she slapped a piece over his mouth, making sure that she pressed it firmly across his upper lip hidden by his one public vanity—a handlebar mustache which made him look incredibly silly. Dusting her trotters off, Belle returned to her chores in the kitchen while Bart and Pansy debated what to do with their unwanted visitor. Bart was all for roasting and toasting him but Pansy prevailed when she pointed out that they might be able to extract some useful information from Nigel. Annoyed at being thwarted, Bart picked him up and carried him over to the darkest part of the cavern, dumping him down against the cold, clammy wall. When he returned to the fire, Pansy crawled up onto his leg and snuggled contentedly against his belly. “I love you, Bart.” Her soft voice caressed and soothed his jangled nerves. “Don’t you worry. We’ll figure it all out.” “I know. But, Pansy, I want you now—not later,” he grumbled. “As soon as this mess is resolved, you will take me to Chrystal Isle and we’ll find someone to explain what we need to do!” she declared with determination. “Until then, we’ll just have to wait.” Bart sighed. “When that turkey wakes up, I’m going to get the information we need from him even if I have to shake it out of him. I can’t believe he’s Morgana’s son!” Pansy tilted her head back, eyes closed in thought. “Do you suppose we could use him as bait to trap Morgana?” she wondered out loud. After a long moment, Bart pointed out, “You would need a tangleweave net or she would just blink away.”

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Pansy slowly nodded. “I know exactly where to get one of those. I vote that we take Nigel to Sher Wood. If Morgana doesn’t show up because of Nigel, then she’ll come because the king is there. She won’t be able to resist.”

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Chapter Seven

In which Raulf and Daffodil take a Detour Raulf made the turn onto Sher Wood Road well after the sun rose flashing across the sky. Far off to the left light glittered on the sea that separated Avalon from Chrystal Isle. Seagulls screamed above the cliffs that bordered the sea as they dipped and dived for the scraps on the narrow rocky beach below. Twenty minutes later as they were passing a surprisingly tidy cluster of cottages, the powerbike sputtered once, twice and then died. Raulf had the presence of mind to stop on the first halting cough, thereby preventing them from tumbling to the ground, but it was clear that the powerbike had something seriously wrong with it. With a disgruntled curse he dismounted and surveyed the tiny village as he yanked the creased map out of the bag hanging from the bike and tried to figure out exactly where they were. If he was reading the map correctly, the village wasn’t even marked on it. “Why don’t we go ask someone where we are?” Daffodil asked tentatively. “No! I’ll figure it out in a minute!” Raulf tapped the map with a long impatient finger. “We just passed the lighthouse. And we haven’t reached the fire tower… So we should be right here at this funny squiggle and this village is not supposed to be here!” “I’ll go ask,” Daffodil offered as she prepared to hop off the bike. “No! Real men don’t ask for directions!” “If I ask, then it will be all right,” Daffodil pointed out in a calm reasonable tone. “Not even the dumbest person could mistake me for a man.” “Maybe if you were alone. But you’re my woman and everyone will know that you’re really asking because I’m lost. No. I’ll take care of everything myself. Stay with the bike.” 79

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Raulf stomped off to the nearest cottage where two little towheaded girls were playing jacks on the stoop. “What’s wrong, mister? Ya lost?” the older one demanded in a high, piping voice. He cringed and replied firmly, “No. I am looking for your blacksmith.” “Don’t have one, mister,” the other little girl imparted with a gap-toothed smile. “Da says it’s a pain in the ass but no one wants to work in the middle of nowhere.” A stocky woman rushed onto the porch and snatched the girls up, shoving them behind her. “Who are you? What are you doing with my girls? Did he hurt you?” she demanded as she patted them worriedly with one hand. “First of all, madam, I did nothing to your daughters. Secondly, I’m looking for a blacksmith to repair my powerbike so that my mate and I can continue our journey.” Harassed and tired, Raulf waggled his index finger at the woman. “And thirdly, I don’t hurt children—boys or girls!” “Mate, huh?” The woman scrutinized Daffodil, noting the wild golden curls and revealing short skirt and tight blouse. No better than she should be was her assessment. If these two were mated, she was a fricasseed dragon. “Last house on the left is where Vinnie lives. He can call someone to take your bike to Ship Town.” She dragged the girls inside and slammed the door shut behind her. With a shrug Raulf turned away and stalked down to the last house on the left, mounted the steps and pounded on the door. Eventually, a burly bald man with a jagged scar running down the left side of his face opened the door. After Raulf explained his problem, the man opened the door and invited him in. “Probably the best thing would be to have Greenbeard take you over to Ship Town,” the man grunted. “I’ll call his communicator and see how far away he is.” Greenbeard agreed to deliver Raulf, Daffodil and the powerbike to Ship Town and confirmed a pick-up location with Vinnie. Then Vinnie and Raulf took on the arduous task of carting the bike down the cliff to the beach while Daffodil waited up on top. As

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Raulf pointed out, he had enough to deal with without worrying about her falling down the cliff too. Daffodil was tempted to tell him what to do with himself, the cliff and the bike. She refrained mostly because she was well aware that men have no coping mechanisms other than sex to deal with life’s little problems. She was in no mood to accommodate him at the moment. So while Vinnie and Raulf wrestled with the powerbike, Daffodil perched uneasily on their baggage at the top of the cliff, keeping an eye out for Greenbeard’s ship. About the time that Vinnie and Raulf reached the beach, Daffodil spied a ship with green sails off the coast of Chrystal Isle. She heard Raulf shout and then saw Vinnie pointing out to sea. With surprising speed, the ship approached the beach where Vinnie waited while Raulf trudged back up the steep trail, no doubt to retrieve the baggage and herself. Daffodil was ready when he reached the top, baggage neatly stacked at the trailhead except for her own pack which was strapped on her back. “You’re ready.” Raulf’s face, pink with light sunburn and exertion, betrayed his surprise. “Great!” Without a word, Daffodil began the descent, leaving Raulf to deal with the rest of the bags. After all, as he had taken great pains to point out, he was the man and he was in charge. Fine. As she slipped and slid down the rocky trail, she puzzled over his disquiet. Normally a calm, confident man, Raulf was exhibiting all the signs of a man on the brink of a meltdown. It didn’t occur to her that it could be simple frustration. He was a man used to controlling his environment. Their current circumstances were far beyond his control. By the time the Jolly Ryder dropped anchor off the beach, Raulf and Daffodil were waiting in stony silence. Neither was quite certain what they were upset about. But that didn’t prevent their shared determination not to be the first to speak.

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A surly troll rowed a battered boat close to the shore. Raulf splashed through the shallow waves with their baggage and dumped it into the boat. Then he carried Daffodil out to the boat and helped her settle on the middle seat while he climbed in next to the troll. With a grunt, the troll dug his oars into the waves and pushed them away from the beach. While the troll rowed, Raulf admired the ingenious grippers that fit over the troll’s trotters. Rumor had it that Merlin had invented them long ago. Now receiving their first pair of grippers was the signal that a troll was an adult. It seemed like it took forever for the little rowboat to reach the Jolly Ryder but finally it bumped the side of the ship and before Daffodil had time to worry about it, Raulf was handing her up into the arms of Gerald the Giant who carried her over to the center of the ship and sat down on a heavy cask with her on his knee. There was a flurry of activity as a second troll climbed down to the waiting boat. In a bit, they wrestled the powerbike on board and suddenly, the ship was underway, sailing through the late afternoon sunlit seas. “What are you doing here, Gerald?” Raulf frowned at his friend. “You’re supposed to be at the giant’s enclave.” Gerald pointed a thumb at Greenbeard. “It’s all his fault…”

***** The wandering trail that ended with his incarceration on Greenbeard’s ship was a clear illustration of good intentions gone wrong. In the beginning of the journey, all was well. The two stablemen from the LeFleur estate parted company with him at Ship Town Road after a pleasant enough walk. Gerald had then headed along the coast north of Ship Town. Sher Wood Road ran parallel to the towering cliffs lining the coast from Ship Town to Hieney Hamlet. Seeking to avoid advertising his presence to any passing stranger, Gerald had elected to travel the cliff tops above the pounding surf. About a mile before he reached the

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northernmost point, he had witnessed a young woman preparing to jump from the cliff top, inevitably plunging to her death. Horrified, he had rushed to prevent her leap to death. How was he to know that she was Greenbeard’s daughter—a mermaiden merely enjoying the exhilaration of the sea and surf? Her shaggy green hair didn’t register with him until later. Was it his fault that he failed to notice the Jolly Ryder anchored offshore? Glumly, Gerald resolved that the next time he was tempted to save a young lady he would let her deal with her own problems. Rescuing the fair damsel had always landed him in trouble. He was covered in bruises and cuts from his struggle with Greenbeard’s men when they captured him. Miserable and cold, he had wondered how much longer he would be confined in the small stinking cell. The combination of rolling ship and rotting fish guts had been making him dangerously queasy. He had yawned and had promptly clapped his hand over his mouth. Desperately, holding his breath he had wrenched the tiny porthole open and poked his nose in the opening, sniffing rapidly to clear the stench. A few seconds later, he had been positive he smelled the heavenly scent of fresh bread. Pulling his nose back in, he had planted one eye to the porthole and discovered they were making the ship fast at a dock—a dock he recognized! The Jolly Ryder was docked at Hieney Hamlet! Now all he had to do was figure out a way to escape. Leaving the porthole open for the hint of fresh air, he had leaned against the heavy metal cage to ponder the possibilities. So much depended on the number of opponents he would have to face. Hieney Hamlet was a small town, friendly to non-humans, especially trolls. Most of Greenbeard’s crew were trolls so if he gave them leave, the ship could potentially have few crew left. Overhead, he had heard the stomp of feet and then Greenbeard and Mackie the chief henchman had tumbled down the ladder. Mackie unlocked the cell and motioned Gerald out.

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“I suppose you’re wondering why I’m letting you go,” Greenbeard had said with a friendly grin that displayed his shiny orange teeth. “Nathan vouched for you and Lettie admitted that you didn’t really attack her so you’re free to go. I need to set ya on your way so I can go pick up my new friend Raulf. He’s in a spot of trouble over on the western coast.” Gerald had stopped dead at the foot of the ladder. “Raulf’s in trouble? I’ll go with you!” “Nah, now. Where will I put you, a great big fellow like you?” Greenbeard had protested in alarm. “Ya nearly sank the Jolly Ryder getting to Hieney Hamlet!” “Raulf is my friend,” Gerald had pointed out stubbornly. “I’ll sit up next to the mast.” Greenbeard had scowled at the giant. Pointing one pointy-tipped finger at Gerald, he stated firmly, “If ya move just once, me boys’ll toss ya overboard!” “Fair enough.” Gerald, wanting to avoid any more arguments, had scaled the ladder in a hurry.

***** “And that’s how I ended up here,” he concluded doggedly. “And a complete pain in the ass he’s been too.” Greenbeard’s acid growl echoed across the deck. “Ewww! What is that awful smell?” he mimicked. “’Twas the fish guts ye ordered for Lettie’s birthday six months ago!” Gerald glowered at the pirate who saluted him with his middle finger. Growling curses beneath his breath, Greenbeard climbed the ladder up to the upper deck. “Aye! And didn’t I command the crew to remove the fish guts? And scrub the hold? All so Raulf there and his lady would have a place to stay?” “Aye,” Gerald agreed. “Only after I threatened to sink yer stinkin’ ship!”

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“Enough!” Raulf’s impatient roar shocked them all into silence. “We have a crisis on Avalon and you two are arguing about fish guts? Are you crazy?” Shamefaced, the pirate and the giant held their tongues while Raulf scowled at first one, then the other. Inhaling deeply, Raulf struggled for calm and then inquired with exquisite politeness, “Is there somewhere that Daffodil and I can rest? We’ve been on the run for hours now.” “Mackie! Show them the hold!” Greenbeard yelled. Mackie immediately detached himself from the knot of trolls avidly studying their visitors from the poop deck, and led them down the ladder to the newly cleaned hold. There was still a faint odor of rotted fish guts overlaid with the strong scent of lye soap and smoldering herbs. Two hammocks were strung on one side. A table was bolted to the floor on the other side with two chairs chained to the wall. With a grunt, Mackie pointed to the chamber pot and two buckets of water in the corner. “Seawater for washin’ in the red bucket. Drinkin’ water in the blue bucket.” With another surly grunt he stomped back up the ladder and slammed the hatch cover shut. Raulf dumped their baggage underneath the table and went to investigate the chains holding the chairs. He surveyed their surroundings for a moment before turning to Daffodil who stood patiently waiting for his directions. “Undress and put your clothing on the table.” He moved over to the portholes near the hammocks and opened them wide. Then he stalked to the other side and opened the only one that he could reach. Immediately, a cool salty breeze flowed into the stuffy hold. It drifted past Daffodil who stood naked next to the table. Her nipples puckered and tightened in the draft. Raulf took note of that and nodded approvingly. “It’s time,” he decided abruptly. He undid the bedrolls, spreading them on the floor and then stood motionless while Daffodil began the task that was becoming strangely comforting in the freewheeling changes in her life.

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She calmly knelt to undo the clips on his boots and tug them off. Then standing back up, she unfastened the zip fasteners and peeled down his dusty zipsuit, once again revealing the hard, muscled torso and arms hidden beneath. Another tug and the zipsuit rolled down over his hips and legs. His hard, thick cock sprang up as she knelt to push the suit over his ankles and feet. She slid a speculative glance at the clear drop of fluid that welled up on the broad, flushed tip of his cock. Just for a moment, she considered swiping it clean with her tongue. And then she remembered the rules that Raulf had made her memorize on their trip. No touching without permission. No clothing in private. No orgasm without permission. Not so many rules, actually but for Daffodil, they seared her at the heart. All her short adult life she had touched both herself and Raulf with impunity. She brought herself to orgasm whenever she wished and never was touched by him unless she requested it. Suddenly, life was different. And she was forced to admit that Raulf’s dominant stance aroused and excited her in a way that she had never experienced before. Here that elusive need she had never quite managed to assuage with flogging had her heart racing and her pussy clutching with delight. Though her experience was pretty much limited to Raulf—with some very minor experiments with Timmy—she found that once her surrender to Raulf’s request was made she had actually looked forward to taking both men. Her thighs were damp from the idea, though she supposed that would wait, since Timmy was gone. But whatever Raulf demanded of her, whatever he commanded, she was confident that it would ultimately lead to her pleasure. When she stood again in front of Raulf, he tilted her head back with one calloused finger until their eyes met. “Tell me again, Daffodil. You’ve had time to think about my request. Are you still willing?” “Yes.” Strangely, though her mind was made up, verbalizing her answer was more difficult than she anticipated. She licked her lips and then more firmly she reiterated, “Yes, I’m willing. But Timmy is gone…”

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After a moment, he slid his hands down to her shoulders and turned her around so her back was facing him. “Timmy isn’t the only man on Avalon. At the moment, we’ll just have to improvise.” This time, Raulf didn’t touch her breasts. Instead he slipped his hand between her legs and gently toyed with her pussy. “Bend over.” When she obediently followed his directions Raulf ran his fingers through her creamy folds and used the moisture to tease her small rosy anus. Though not a stranger to the use of toys, she had never been penetrated by an actual cock. Instinctively, she froze. “What’s wrong?” he whispered. “This is nothing new.” “It’s new to me. Toys aren’t the same as a man’s cock,” she pointed out nervously. “Move over to the table and bend over it while I get the oil,” Raulf said quietly. He picked up his suit and rummaged in the pockets for the tiny vial of oil. When he returned, he dropped a clean damp cloth on the corner of the table and placed the vial next to it. Then he gently massaged a few drops of oil in the sensitive opening. When a tingling sensation unexpectedly erupted around her anus, she involuntarily flinched and yelped. Raulf lightly smacked her ass. “Be still.” He took the vial and dribbled a few more drops of the slick oil on his finger and carefully worked it inside. The tingling spread with each movement of his finger. Hot, pulsing sensation streaked down her spine, centered in her clit and she moaned. “Still nervous?” “A little,” she admitted softly. At that moment, Raulf slipped a second finger inside. Whimpering, she rocked back, finding it impossible to be still. “Raulf!” Raulf chose that point to slip a third slippery finger in her ass while lightly tweaking her little pink clit with the other hand. The stimulation proved to be more

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than she could withstand. With a muffled shriek, Daffodil completely lost control. Her body shook with the little convulsions that ran up and down her spine. Without hesitation, while her body was still in the throes of climax, he slipped his fingers out and, holding his cock in place, firmly thrust forward, seating the head inside. She shrieked in surprise and involuntarily pushed back, taking more of the thick, hot length. Abruptly, she stilled. “Raulf,” she moaned. “It’s so big!” Grabbing the cloth waiting on the table, Raulf carefully cleaned his hands. Then casting it aside, he leaned forward to cup her breasts. Her nipples beaded against his palms as the ridged calluses brushed across the tips. With each roll of his hips, he sank in deeper until finally his heavy balls slapped against the wet folds of her pussy. He bent over her, holding her tightly against his chest. “This is what if feels like to have your man’s cock in your ass,” he whispered. “Do you understand, Daffodil? Your man. Your only man. I will never share you. Never.” Confused and overwhelmed by the strange sensations that bombarded her, she fought the tears that threatened. “Then why? Why did you ask…” “About Timmy?” Silently she nodded. “Because I was a fool.” His embrace tightened until she wondered if she would ever be able to breathe again. When she squeaked, his grip immediately eased. “Sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to squeeze you to death.” “That’s all right,” she wheezed. “No, it isn’t but I’ll take care of you.” He withdrew just a little and then, as though he couldn’t bear to have any distance between them, moved closer until they were skin to skin. “Daffodil! Do you feel how we fit together?”

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She slowly nodded. His cock stuffed her with a complete fullness the butt plug had never provided. Involuntarily her muscles squeezed the thick length as her pussy clenched searching for that same fullness. “You need more? You want the vibrator too?” Reluctantly she nodded again. It was hard to admit that she actually wanted more. Hard to admit that he was in charge and she had to ask instead of demanding. Very gently he withdrew and led her over to the pallet on the floor. “Kneel down,” he directed quietly while he rummaged in the bag where the toys were packed. In a moment, he was kneeling behind her, with a thick, short vibrator in hand. It was the work of moments to insert it in her greedy pussy. Once it was positioned, he returned to his place, lined his cock up and steadily pressed for entry. Her ass was hot, slick and tight. It required concentrated, controlled effort to resume his snug haven. When he was completely sheathed, they both groaned. He held very still, savoring the sensations of her ultimate surrender both physical and emotional. She belonged to him. She trusted him enough to accept his assurances that he would never harm her, would always take care of her, would always fulfill her darkest fantasies. Daffodil rested her head on her folded arms, her eyes closed as she struggled to process the heat and lightning ricocheting up and down her spine. Raulf’s hot cock filled her ass, possessing her in a way that hadn’t been possible before. A warm glow of strange contentment settled over her as she accepted his complete possession. At last, Raulf began to gently roll with the movement of the ship. There was no hurry. They had no place to go until the ship reached harbor. Relaxing into the rhythm of the sea, they rocked together slowly, building the heat until the gentle rhythm wasn’t enough to assuage the desire between them. With a deep, deliberate thrust, Raulf took her to the searing edge of climax and then joyfully leaped with her into the furnace. There was nothing—no sound, no scent, no sight—except that of the two of them, locked together in a hot orgasmic whirlpool. 89

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Holding her in a tight embrace, Raulf turned them onto their sides where they curled tightly together in tired contentment and dozed.

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Chapter Eight

In which Raulf saves the King By the next morning Raulf and Daffodil were once more on their way to Sher Wood on a much-improved, smoothly humming powerbike. Harold, the blacksmith in Ship Town, was a genius with machinery and also just happened to be Greenbeard’s cousin. While waiting for the bike to be repaired, Raulf and Daffodil had learned among other things that Greenbeard’s much-despised real name was Billy Bob. With complete understanding Raulf at once resolved he would never call him Billy Bob. He shuddered to think what would happen if he happened to allow that little bit of knowledge slip out. Billy Bob the pirate didn’t have quite the same tones as Greenbeard the pirate. The bike wasn’t repaired until late afternoon. Harold refused Raulf’s payment, pointing out that it was all in a patriotic cause. Then he sent them down the rutted street to a small inn, The Dragon’s Breath, where they were welcomed with much delight. The enthusiastic reception was explained when the landlady mentioned that Harold was her mate. Basking in the safe haven, Raulf and Daffodil gratefully took possession of the spotless room complete with bathing facilities. So it was that they were traveling along Sher Wood Road, content and rested after their detour to Ship Town. Raulf paid careful attention to the dark woods on their right until he spied the landmark Gerald had described for him—a tall lightning-struck pine. Slowing down, he steered the powerbike through the dim woods along a faint trail. Surely it was not like any trail he had ever walked. Abruptly a man stepped onto the trail. Raulf stomped on the brakes, bringing the powerbike to halt bare inches from the man’s body. Immediately, they were surrounded by men with silent, unfriendly faces.

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“Well, well, what do we have here?” Another man dropped down from the tree branch directly overhead and cocked his head to one side. “Kinda far off the road, aren’t you?” Raulf kicked the bike stands into place and cut the power. “We’re here in search of King Arthur and his knights,” Raulf announced with calm dignity. “Are you now? And what makes you think the king would be anywhere near here?” the man demanded with a laugh. “Came-a-lot is the other direction, man.” “Florian, the guardian of the king’s wardrobe, told us the king was on his way here.” Raulf frowned at the man, then slyly declared, “Never tell us he was wrong! Florian sent us with a message!” The men surrounding them shifted and murmured while their leader snorted in disbelief. “Riiiight. And this Florian individual shared this information with you because…?” Raulf gestured toward Daffodil. “She is his youngest daughter. Chrysanthemum, the oldest sister, is handfasted to Prince Gareth.” The woods grew still. “Jocko, fetch Robin,” the leader commanded without taking his eyes from Raulf. “Tell him the last of the LeFleur daughters is waiting at the gates to speak to the king.” A ripple of protest moved through the group but none came forward to voice their objections in person. The leader stared at Raulf in fascination, wondering how he had really obtained the information about the king’s location. Florian, his supposed source, had passed through Sher Wood the day before without mentioning a word about Raulf or Daffodil. It didn’t take long for Robin to return, accompanied by the king himself and Bart. Happy to see that it was truly his friend and Daffodil, Bart exclaimed, “Raulf! What are you doing here?” Raulf sighed as he stared at the dragon. “I suppose that means that Timmy didn’t talk to you?” 92

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Bart’s heavy brows wrinkled and he looked as puzzled as a dragon could. “Never saw Timmy,” he admitted with a slow shake of his head. “Pansy and I have been here since yesterday evening.” “I see.” Raulf shot Robin and the king a small smile. “I’m Raulf, who used to be Florian’s butler. This is Daffodil, my mate—duly registered with the court in Came-a-lot.” Arthur nodded. “Gareth mentioned that in passing. What is the message you supposedly have to give to me?” Raulf glanced around at the men surrounding them. “I think it might be something you would rather hear in private. Is there somewhere we can talk?” Robin spoke up for the first time. “Sure. Leave your bike and walk with us. My men will bring your things.” Daffodil dismounted with her bag and silently waited for Raulf to join her. When Robin offered to have one of his men deliver her to his mate, Raulf declined. “Daffodil is part of the message.” With a faint shrug, Robin acceded and turned, leading the way to the center of their camp where they all pulled up chairs next to the fire. Raulf was nervously wondering where to begin when Daffodil rummaged in her bag and brought out Sidney. The king started in surprise. “Sidney! What are you doing with my pet rock?” he demanded. “Nigel stole it,” Raulf replied, dry-mouthed. “Gareth asked me to retrieve it.” Before Arthur could continue his questions Delphie, Robin’s mate, arrived with a tray of drinks and snacks. She passed around the welcome mugs of ale, set the two platters of cookies and rolls on the table and left. Without discussion, they moved their chairs close enough to the table to reach the snacks. Then Arthur sternly demanded, “Now tell me about the message from Florian.”

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While Raulf was trying to decide how to tell him the truth about his valet, Daffodil blurted out, “He’s one of the rebels.” In shock, Arthur inhaled a mouthful of crumbled cookie, choking and wheezing desperately. When it became obvious that he couldn’t breathe, Raulf jumped up and performed a brand-new maneuver he had just learned in his last first-aid class. Wrapping his arms around the king, he pressed rhythmically just below the breastbone until the cookie chunks came flying out. Robin and the men who had appeared from all over the camp stood around, observing the events in amazement. As Arthur coughed so violently tears streamed down his face, the others heaved deep sighs of relief punctuated by murmured questions and answers. With an abrupt gesture, Robin dismissed his men. Except for Arthur’s hacking interspersed with sips of ale, the small group was silent. Finally, Robin said, “Why don’t you start at the beginning?” Raulf took a deep breath and started with Florian’s arrival at the LeFleur estate. By the time he finished, Robin and the king were staring at Daffodil and him with grim expressions while Bart sat quietly in the background, nodding his head in agreement and cuddling with Pansy who had quietly arrived during Raulf’s narrative. The king turned to the dragon and faery and demanded, “Do you know where Daffodil’s tooth is?” Pansy clenched her small hands together. “Nigel told us that Morgana has it in a locket that she always wears. We—Bart and I—thought we might be able to use Nigel to trap Morgana so we could take the tooth away from her.” “How?” Robin’s face was a study in puzzlement. “Surely you didn’t think Nigel would be bait?” “We did think that until we spent the last few hours with him,” Bart admitted with a growl. “He’s an idiot. I don’t think even Morgana would want him. More likely she would pay us to put him in the Glass Tower.” Bart’s wings drooped in discouragement. Pansy patted his knee consolingly. “It’s all right, Bart. We’ll think of something.” 94

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Bart shook his head. “It’s hopeless, Pansy. I just want to take you back to my cave and complete our bonding. At this rate, we’ll be old and wrinkled by the time we find out how to do that.” Robin bit his lip to keep from laughing at the desolate dragon with the crooked spectacles nearly slipping off his nose. “I think you should consult with Father Liksalot. He just came back from visiting with Percival the Wise. I know Percy shared many dragon secrets with the good priest. Perhaps he’ll be able to answer your questions,” Robin said gently. “In any case, it won’t hurt to talk to him.” Without a word, Bart lifted Pansy up to his shoulder and went in search of Father Liksalot. As Robin pointed out, if he couldn’t help, they were no worse off. When they were gone, Arthur turned back to Raulf. “What is your plan? Or do you have one?” “Use me for bait,” Daffodil rushed to put in before Raulf could frame a reply. “She’ll come here if she knows I’m here.” “No!” Raulf bellowed. “Yes! You know she will come, Raulf. And if you’re prepared we can capture her. I don’t want to live the rest of my life worrying about what terrible evil she might be able to compel me to do because she has that tooth!” Daffodil hunched her shoulders and squeezed her eyes shut to hold back angry tears. “You said you love me. Then help me with this.” “How will we catch her?” Raulf demanded angrily. “She can pop in and out. She’ll suspect a trap in Sher Wood because the king is here!” “She wouldn’t suspect a trap at her tower.” In the ringing silence, Daffodil turned her back to the men and stared into the fire. She knew that Morgana would never come to Sher Wood and she suspected that Morgana’s spy network was extensive and well informed. What they needed was to catch her off guard. Daffodil was sure that the best place for their trap was Morgana’s own home.

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The men continued to toss around ideas for catching Morgana while Daffodil ignored them. Sometimes the sheer pigheadedness of men really annoyed her. Avalon was clearly a man’s planet, but surely they expected their women to use the brains they had sometimes? Delphinium watched Daffodil for a few minutes before she decided to offer her something different to think about. Daffodil’s sisters had their weddings. Delphie was determined that Daffodil wouldn’t miss out on her chance just because the men were all involved in planning how to catch Morgana. She pulled up a chair next to Daffodil and began to chat about Chrysanthemum’s and Honeysuckle’s weddings. Happy to have another woman to talk to, Daffodil eagerly asked questions which Delphie was more than willing to answer. “So Undain was witness to Chrysanthemum’s wedding?” Daffodil giggled. “Oooh, I bet that she had a fit!” “Not so much,” Delphie replied thoughtfully. “I think that Gareth was so skillful at arousing her curiosity that she wasn’t too upset.” “Well, I’m glad that Honeysuckle was here to explain things to Chrys. I’m sure that she did a good job. Much better than I would have.” Daffodil sighed. “I wish I could have been here but it seems like it’s just been one detour after another.” “How did you end up as Raulf’s woman?” Delphie asked with lively curiosity. “Somebody set me up,” she declared. “And I think it was Honey!” “What did she do?” With increasing animation, Daffodil explained the entire chain of events. “So you see it had to be Honeysuckle!” “Well.” Delphie tilted her head in thought for a moment. “Not necessarily. It could have been Raulf himself, you know. He might have decided to make sure you were given to him. Any other way and your papa could have demanded you back.” “Oh. Really?”

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“Truly. If you don’t believe me, ask Father Liksalot. He can explain the laws,” Delphie added kindly. “In the meantime, I think it’s time for you to get ready for your wedding.” “What wedding?” “Yours and Raulf’s. The king will want to make sure that the knot is well and truly tied so that Florian doesn’t have a leg to stand on.” She stood up and held out her hand. “Come along now. If I know men, they’ll sit here yakking until it’s time for the wedding and then suddenly demand why everything isn’t ready. I think the first place to start is the waterfall. You’ll love our shower. Then we’ll find our healer, Jane. She can do your piercings so you’ll be all ready for your handsome man.” After spending a leisurely afternoon playing in the warm pool and waterfall, Daffodil and Delphie enjoyed the luxury of preparing for Daffodil’s wedding while the men straightened up the area around the central fire and arranged the chairs. Though Daffodil was nervous at the thought of the piercings Raulf wanted, Jane the healer was experienced and extremely competent, speed-healing the piercings so she suffered no discomfort. Prince Undain, the king’s son, returned from his journey after safely escorting Gareth and Chrysanthemum to Percival the dragon’s cave. He confirmed their departure for Chrystal Isle early that morning and King Arthur breathed a sigh of relief. While not strictly necessary, Raulf seized the opportunity to ask Undain to serve as witness at their wedding. With so much civil unrest he reasoned it wouldn’t hurt to have as many high-ranking witnesses as possible. Undain and Father Averill met privately with Raulf and discussed the duties of a witness. Raulf’s eyes gleamed with heated amusement when he grasped exactly what kind of service Undain was offering. Seizing on the chance to share Daffodil as part of the traditional ceremony, Raulf decided that sharing her under the circumstances would, in fact, make it a special memory. And when Undain realized Raulf’s particular kink, his eyes sparkled with anticipation. Once Father Averill signed the official 97

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marriage documents and returned them to Raulf, he went in search of sustenance, leaving Raulf and Undain to plan an exciting wedding night for Daffodil.

***** In a secluded glade in the woods, Father Liksalot coached Bart and Pansy on the intricacies of dragon mating as Percival the Wise had explained it to him. Bart was quite nervous but Pansy was anxious to follow Father Liksalot’s explicit directions. Father Liksalot understood Bart’s unease. “What’s the worst that could happen?” he asked quietly. “We don’t succeed,” Bart growled. “And then?” “We try again.” Bart shrugged his massive shoulders and studied the forest around them. “It’s too open here. When I’m with Pansy I want some place more secure.” Father Liksalot frowned in thought and then suddenly brightened as he remembered the perfect place. “I know exactly where to take you. Follow me!” He led them to an ancient disused chapel that was surrounded by thick woods. A small pool near the door glittered in the late afternoon sun. Inside the main chapel was totally bare except for the beautiful colors in the three unbroken stained glass windows. He pointed to a wide shade tree near the pool. “I will keep watch from there. Remember, take your time. There is no rush.” Pansy stomped her small foot. “That’s what you think. If I get any hotter, I’ll burn up without any help from Bart!” With a twinkle in his old eyes, Father Liksalot turned away, leaving them alone and went to find a comfortable spot for an afternoon nap. He was perfectly certain that nature would triumph. Bart and Pansy would have no trouble with their long-delayed mating.

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Bart led Pansy inside where they settled on the tiled floor in the center of the room. Little shafts of sunlight shot through the high windows. Color danced on the walls from the stained glass. It was quiet except for a noisy cricket singing in the corner. The nervous dragon slipped one claw under Pansy’s skirt, lifting it gently. “Take off your dress, little love.” She smiled at him lovingly. “Don’t worry, Bart. Everything is going to be just fine,” she assured him as she slipped the dress over her head. Her silky pink curls ruffled and stood out from her skull from the static electricity. As always, Bart’s heart turned over when he saw her smile. His ears shot up as steam wafted from his broad nose, fogging over his glasses. Pansy twirled around in front of him, displaying her pert breasts with the tightly furled rosy nipples and her slick, damp pussy, plump with excitement. Bart’s wings snapped out to the side, fluttering so wildly the tips brushed the walls on both sides. His tail lashed to and fro before curling around her small body. Pansy grinned in delight at the unmistakable signs of Bart’s arousal. She pranced closer until she could reach out and touch the end of his huge cock. Clear liquid dribbled from the opening on the very tip. She leaned over and kissed it tenderly before slowly dragging her tongue across the opening for a taste. The dragon growled, vibrating with anticipation. “Pansy!” She slicked her lips, savoring the musky taste. “Yummm. Lift me up, Bart. It’s time.” Bart carefully cradled her in his hand and set her in place, straddling his cock. She leaned back against his broad belly and sighed, sweetly content for the moment to cuddle with her dragon. Following Father Liksalot’s directions, Bart held her in place with one big paw wrapped around her torso. They both took a deep breath. And then Bart rumbled, “Ride my cock, sweeting. Play with that pretty pussy and ride me.”

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She trembled at his words, her pussy clutching at the soft suede skin rubbing against the puffy folds. Wrapping her legs around his cock, she rocked across the two rows of openings that ran down the top of his cock, shocked at the hot tingles. Panting, she moved faster, grinding her pussy against his cock. “Bart, hold your cock in your hand! I want to see you come!” Willing to do anything she asked, Bart grasped his aching cock in his free hand and slowly massaged, up and down, from the great, heavy tip back up until his thumb brushed against her pussy. Unable to resist, her hands slipped down between her legs, frantically rubbing her clit as she watched Bart stroke that same cock that she rode. Her tight nipples brushed against the rough palm of his hand, sending flashes of heat up and down her spine. Little beads of fluid began to seep from the openings on his cock so that the surface skin became slippery and wet. Wriggling madly on the cock between her legs, Pansy squeezed it between her thighs and gasped. Heat from the little fluid beads slicked the entire length of her pussy folds and she shouted out, “Bart! I’m coming! Come with me!” Bart’s wings folded around them as he hunched over Pansy. The fat, dark purple mushroom tip seemed to swell and pulse. And then as he felt the rush of Pansy’s climax, he joined her with such force he felt faint. When his roar of triumph echoed out across the woods, small animals froze in fear. Under his shade tree, Father Liksalot smiled and promptly fell asleep.

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Chapter Nine

Morgana is all tied up In the woods near Morgana’s tower, Timmy perched in a tree, glumly wondering where everyone was. Bart’s cave was empty. Nathan the Sneak wasn’t answering his communicator. Raulf and Daffodil still hadn’t returned. What was he supposed to do? Scratching his head in puzzlement, he watched the silent woods. No one had been near Morgana’s tower since he arrived. Maybe, he thought. Maybe he could sneak in long enough to search for Daffodil’s tooth. If he found it they could all settle down at the cottage in the woods and quit jaunting around like drunken pixies. He sat in the tree, agonizing over the possibilities, and then abruptly decided to chance it. Sliding down to the ground, he wove his way to the tower, carefully avoiding the shooting thorn bushes and the dreamtime flowers. He couldn’t think of a single reason why anyone would let such dangerous plants grow so close to their home, except for sheer laziness or meanness. From the little he knew of Morgana, it was probably the meanness factor, although she wasn’t known for her physical ambition either. When he reached the foot of the tower and tried the door, it opened a crack to his touch. Uneasily, he pushed it farther open and peered inside. What a pigsty! He crept inside, keeping a cautious eye on the door. The main room looked like a whirlwind had stormed through, tossing and overturning everything in its wake. Timmy couldn’t believe the mess. As he gazed at the tumbled furniture and ripped-up pillows it occurred to him that someone had beaten him to the punch. Somebody had already searched Morgana’s tower. Somebody who obviously didn’t care whether she knew about their search or not. Abruptly, Timmy turned to the door, anxious to leave before Morgana returned and decided he had created the mess.

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She was standing in the doorway, watching him with dark, brooding eyes. “Well, well. What have we here?” After glancing indifferently at the jumbled chaos, she asked, “So did you find what you were looking for?” “This wasn’t me!” he protested. “It was like this when I got here. The door was open so I looked in!” “Really.” She shot him a speculative look. “Why were you looking inside in the first place? Everyone knows that this is my tower. Morgana’s Tower. Only a fool would come near here.” Timmy shrugged. “I was curious. I just wanted to see what was so special about it.” He shuffled closer. “I’m sorry about your stuff. I’ll go now.” “I don’t think so,” she said with soft menace. “You wanted to see what was so special about my tower and I think you should find out.” She grasped his biceps with firm fingers and blinked them to the upper tower. Timmy rubbed his eyes in amazement. One minute he was talking to the sorceress in the lower level and the next moment they were in a large circular room, empty except for a bed, three trunks and two heavy cabinets. Morgana pinched his biceps and then trailed her hand down across his chest, massaging the muscles. “Not bad,” she whispered. “Take off your zipsuit.” “Uh…” “Come now. Surely you aren’t an innocent. Not even the virgins are innocent on Avalon. Take off the zipsuit or I’ll summon someone to do it for you!” She moved to the bed and flounced down on the soft comforter, stretching out on her side. With a twirling gesture of her hand, she pointed at him. Timmy felt his zipsuit rip open from neck to crotch. Grabbing at the fabric, he tried to hold it closed but to no avail. The fabric slithered away, peeling over his shoulders. He did a wriggling dance while trying to prevent the disappearance of his clothes.

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Then Morgana made another gesture and he felt something soft grasp his cock. It tugged gently but firmly on the hard flesh. Timmy gave up on the zipsuit and began to slap at the invisible thing playing with his cock and balls. “What are you doing to me?” he shouted. “Helping you undress,” she replied with a wicked laugh. “I told you I would summon someone to help. The plane elementals were more than happy to oblige me.” “The what?” Timmy’s voice slipped up to a wild shriek when something penetrated his ass without warning. Something slick and slithery. “Plane elementals. You can’t see them, of course. But they love the taste of human semen.” Morgana giggled when Timmy leaped up into the air with a high, girlish squeal and then ran for the balcony door. The doors refused to budge. Suddenly angry, Timmy turned and advanced on her in fury with his stiff cock bouncing wildly. He seized her, dragging her from the bed and shaking her uncontrollably. Morgana jerked loose and ran for the door but Timmy was too fast for her to escape. Still struggling, they burst through the glass doors and over the railing, hurtling down into a gigantic dreamtime bush. Clouds of dreamtime hallucinogenic aphrodisiac sprayed from the huge coralcolored flowers. Morgana groaned and clutched Timmy’s arms, her nails digging into the trembling muscles. Timmy rolled from the bush, taking her with him. Desperately, he flipped her on her stomach, tossed her skirt up over her ass and plunged his cock into her pussy with one thrust. She whimpered and shoved her butt against his belly, squealing and moaning, “More! Harder!” Timmy pounded faster, only vaguely aware that they were outside in the open woods where anyone could see them. He decided he didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was fucking the woman beneath him. Nothing else was important.

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With a rippling shudder, Morgana came hard and fast but Timmy continued thrusting in an increasing frenzy. She came again, shrieking loudly enough to set off the thorn bushes across the clearing with the vibrations. Tiny thorns whistled all around them as he shoved her flat beneath him while continuing his wild pumping between her thighs. The next time she came, the incredibly tight contractions milked him with irresistible pressure. With a bellow that echoed around the clearing, Timmy came long and hard, filling her juicy pussy with hot, jetting pulses. They lay on the ground, panting and shuddering. Abruptly, Timmy got to his feet and dragged Morgana up from the dirt. Hoisting her over his shoulder, he carted her back into the tower, slamming the door shut behind them. A quick glance around the lower tower confirmed what he already knew. There was no bed. With a hearty smack across her ass, he commanded, “Blink us upstairs, Morgana. Now while we have time before the dreamtime spray takes full effect.” Morgana gazed at his muscular rump with lazy hunger. She wanted to bite that luscious ass. She wanted to lick him and suck him… “Who do you think you are?” “I’m the man who’s going to fuck you blind when the aphrodisiac finishes taking effect. Hurry up! We’re running out of time!” Timmy smacked her ass again, a smidgen harder this time. She wiggled her pinkened butt and muttered under her breath. Then she blinked them back to the upper tower room where Timmy promptly dumped her on the bed before heading for the pile of rope he’d spied earlier next to one of the trunks. He grabbed it and returned to the bed. While Morgana rolled to and fro, moaning and plucking at her dress, he used one of the shorter lengths to tie her wrists to the high post in the center of the headboard. Then in the few seconds left before the surging arousal took his mind, he ripped her dress open from the neckline to the hem. With a final determined nod, he leaped on the bed between her knees, lined his cock up at the glistening opening to her pussy and 104

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entered her with what little control he had left. It was the last coherent thought he had until the next day. Late the next afternoon, Morgana woke from a brief nap and stared around the tower room while rolling from side to side in the rumpled bed and yanking at the rope that still was tied around her wrists. Timmy meandered in from the balcony and gazed at her with assessing eyes. “Good afternoon, Morgana.” “You twit! Untie me,” she raged. “My arms hurt!” “Why not just blink out of here?” Timmy wondered aloud. “Because, asshole, the rope you used is tangleweave!” Timmy chuckled. “Tangleweave rope. What are you doing with tangleweave? That’s illegal except by the king’s orders.” “Untie me!” she demanded imperiously. “I’ll rip your cock off once I’m free.” “Oh, well, that’s a major incentive for me to release you,” he mocked. “Now I’m scared.” He went to the pile of rope and picked through it carefully before setting aside two separate lengths. Then he found two short pieces and added them to the pile. Returning to the bed, he captured her legs one at a time and tied them to the bedposts. And when he had her tied to his satisfaction, he proceeded to weave the ropes around her body in the erotic rope patterns he and Raulf had practiced on Fauna down in the dungeon. One rope wove back and forth around her ribs, over and under her breasts and tied neatly in the center of her back. The other rope ran from her waist between her legs with the knots positioned on her clit, pussy and anus and then it too was knotted at her waist in back. When his work was complete, he released her wrists and ankles and made sure he was out of reach. “If you don’t behave,” he warned, “I’ll pitch you off the balcony into the dreamtime bush again. Only this time you won’t have a cock handy to keep you from going insane.”

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Morgana sat up in the bed and stared at him in disbelief. “You do realize that we’re stuck here with no food,” she reminded him sarcastically. “It won’t be long before you’ll be begging me to blink you out of here.” Shaking his head, Timmy walked back out onto the balcony. “Nope. Bart the dragon and his mate Pansy arrived home a little while ago. Bart’s gone to ask his troll to prepare something for us to eat. When he comes back, he’ll lift us down to the ground level.” “You think you’re so clever. My son will come to rescue me!” she screamed. “Nigel has been sentenced to two years at Glass Towers for stealing the king’s pet rock,” Timmy informed her calmly. “Bart brought the news from Sher Wood. By the time Nigel arrives to rescue you—” “You swine!” “Anyone ever tell you that you have a potty mouth?” he inquired lazily. Morgana leaped off the bed and rushed toward him, wild with fury. At the last moment Timmy shifted to the side and Morgana shot through the gap in the balcony railing. He grabbed the knot at her waist and jerked her back from the edge, dumping her on her ass. “Next time you’re in that much of a hurry to get downstairs, let me know. I’ll be happy to toss you into that thorn bush just to the right over there.” “Asshole!” “Everyone has one,” he retorted indifferently. “What do you want from me?” Morgana shoved her tangled black locks back from her face. “Tell me. I’ll do anything to get rid of you!” “Daffodil’s tooth. Hand that over and we’ll discuss terms.” Morgana snorted. “Right. I don’t think so.” She climbed to her feet and limped back into the tower, rubbing her hip. “No one gets the tooth. I keep it in this locket,” she said, tapping the golden locket swinging from a fine gold chain. It rested just above the swell of her breasts.

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When Timmy followed her into the tower, turning her to face him with one firm hand on her shoulder, she warned, “No one can take it from me. There’s a spell on the locket. The only one who can touch it is Daffodil. Too bad she’s not around, huh?” “I’m here, though.” Surprised, they both turned at the sound of the soft voice behind them. “Who the hell are you?” Morgana demanded rudely. “I’m Pansy, the tooth fairy.” The dainty pink-haired fairy advanced on Morgana with a gleeful grin. “And I’m here to take custody of Daffodil’s tooth.” Pansy reached out, grasped the locket and jerked it away from Morgana before dashing out to the balcony and leaping into Bart’s waiting hand. “We’ll be back!” she called merrily as Bart flew away with Pansy securely gripped in his paw. Morgana screamed and collapsed on the floor at Timmy’s feet. “Noooo,” she howled. With a shrug, Timmy stalked over to the bed and stretched out with his hands tucked beneath his head. “I would say that was the end of your plans. Don’t you think you should start worrying about what the king will do to you? In the meantime, I think I’ll take a nap. It’s always good to be prepared just in case you decide to leap into that dreamtime bush again.” He yawned and closed his eyes.

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Chapter Ten

Daffodil is collared and cuffed With the late afternoon sunlight peeking through the window, Daffodil twisted restlessly in the rumpled bed, squinched her eyes against the light and muttered, “Who turned the lights on?” Undain chuckled softly. “No lights, sweet Daffodil. That’s the sun.” Her eyes flashed open in shock and then she remembered why Undain was in her bed. Raulf’s big warm hand spread across her belly as he massaged the soft skin. With a soft pat, he asked, “How are you feeling this afternoon?” Well fucked! She didn’t think that was what her new husband expected as an answer so she yawned. And then she placed her hand over his. “I’m fine, Raulf. Very fine.” As though her words were a signal, the men grinned with anticipation. She struggled to sit up. “Whatever you two have planned, it’s going to wait until I make a trip to the bathroom first,” she said firmly. With a light shrug, Undain rolled from the bed and helped her up. “Hurry back!” Daffodil took her time while she thought about her wedding and the night that followed. The ceremony was far lovelier than she thought possible. Perhaps it was because the king was present but every effort was made to make it special. Of course, Raulf’s knighting ceremony before the wedding added to the festivities. The firmly spoken vows, the glitter of jewels as the Knights of the Round Dungeon solemnly welcomed Raulf into their midst, the flash of the sword at his shoulders as he knelt before the king with bowed head all set a beautiful prelude to the wedding. Then Undain and Raulf together had led her to stand before Father Averill. The ceremony seemed to pass so fast. One moment she was exchanging vows with Raulf.

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The next he was fastening the gold collar around her neck followed by the wrist and ankle cuffs that Undain handed over from the leather casket he held. A kiss that made her cheeks turn scarlet in remembrance and then Raulf lifted her in his arms and carried her to their cottage, followed by Undain. Time slowed to a standstill as the two men slowly undressed her as though she was a precious gift. Abruptly, they were sitting side by side on the bed, looking their fill as she stood in front of them, nude except for her collar, cuffs, nipple chain and clit ring. She shivered again as she remembered how incredibly naked she felt. Did all brides feel that way? she wondered. Did they all feel that flash of finality and inevitability? She stood before the sink and looked in the mirror at her flushed face. What did they have planned for this morning? After Raulf requested permission from her to share her with another man, she expected that to be part of the traditional wedding night. To her surprise, except for some mild play, Undain watched more than participated. With a sigh, she washed her hands and face, brushed the tangles from her hair and straightened her shoulders in anticipation. Whatever they planned, her pleasure was their primary goal. No woman could argue with that. She opened the door and went to meet her fate. Raulf and Undain waited near the table, sprawled comfortably facing each other in two heavy stuffed chairs. She frowned, trying to recall whether the chairs were in the cottage the evening before. She didn’t think so. Between the chairs was a low table piled with various dishes of food. Wryly, she noticed that there was no chair for her. Undain patted his bare thighs and rumbled, “Come sit here, Daffodil.” With a fleeting glance at Raulf, who nodded approval, Daffodil gingerly sat on Undain’s lap. Naked as he was, it was impossible to miss the fact that his cock was as hard as stone and decorated with a row of bars running the length of the underside. A wide cock ring circled the end just below the fat crown.

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Undain’s firm hands seized her about the waist and tugged her back until she was resting against his belly with his cock wedged between them. He positioned her feet on his spread knees, leaving her pussy displayed for Raulf’s leisurely inspection. “Put your arms up around my neck,” he directed softly. While Raulf watched, Undain reached for a juicy plum slice and slowly trailed it lazily around her nipples. The soft, petal pink flesh crinkled in tight little buds. Her nipple rings lifted as she gasped with the sensations of the cool, sticky fruit. Daffodil tilted her head against his shoulder so she could watch Undain put the plum slice to his mouth and take a bite. Juice dribbled from his lip. Her tongue slithered across her own lips in sympathy. He didn’t hesitate to brush his lips across hers, sharing the taste of ripe plum and Undain. Raulf came to kneel between their legs. When he was comfortable, he chose a sliver of apricot to paint her mound and soft pussy lips with. With great attention to detail, he carefully dragged it up and down, rubbing the small slice in every crevice and fold. Then holding her eyes with his own, he popped it in his mouth and chewed with evident enjoyment, closing his eyes to savor the mixed flavors of apricot and Daffodil. Undain took another piece of fruit, a large sugar-dusted strawberry this time. He held it to Daffodil’s parted lips. As she took a bite, the flavors exploded, tart and sweet on her tongue. With the remaining portion, he painted the line of her jaw from ear to ear. Pressing his mouth close to her ear, he whispered, “When we finish painting your body with the sweet fruit piece by piece, we’re going to lick every particle clean. And then we’re going to take you together—bury our cocks deep inside and fuck you into oblivion.” Daffodil whimpered and shifted, unable to remain still at the vision Undain portrayed. Choosing a spear of mango, Raulf painted a line from her navel to her clit where he paused long enough to tap the little bud lightly before twiddling her clit ring. Then he drew a mango line along the creases on each side of her mound. “I told Undain

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that you like it when I tell you exactly what we’re going to do. It makes you hot, doesn’t it, darling?” “Yessss.” Daffodil moaned and rocked, rubbing her ass against Undain’s cock. Raulf ate the mango piece and picked a pineapple spear next. “Now this,” he observed conversationally, “looks like something that might keep your juicy pussy happy. What do you think, Undain?” “I don’t know,” he replied hesitantly. “It looks kind of small. Try it and see.” Wriggling around, Daffodil trapped Undain’s cock in the valley between her ass cheeks. The little barbells that pierced his cock zinged across her sensitive anus. She flinched, nearly slithering from his lap onto Raulf’s thighs just as he slid the pineapple spear into her pussy. With a soft shriek, she pushed back and encountered Undain’s cock again. “Hmm. You like that, huh?” Raulf covered her pussy with his mouth, pressing in and out on the pineapple spear with his tongue. Taking another strawberry, Undain offered it to Daffodil. Ignoring her gasps and moans, he urged her to take a bite. She bit into the sweet-tart fruit and groaned when Raulf flicked his tongue over her clit before returning to the pineapple in her pussy. Undain smeared strawberry juice around her areolas, paying strict attention to the puckered, pebbly area that surrounded the hard tips. Abruptly, Raulf removed the pineapple spear and offered it to Undain, who promptly consumed it, enjoying the mix of pineapple and Daffodil juices. Raulf stood up and lifted Daffodil from Undain’s lap, carrying her over to the bed. Undain wasn’t surprised at Raulf’s sudden impatience. He sprawled in the chair, massaging his cock while watching Raulf lap at Daffodil’s skin, assiduously cleaning every morsel of fruit from her curvy little body. It was an erotic delight. When Raulf was satisfied that he had licked up every morsel, he rolled with his new wife until she was perched on his belly. “Lift up, Daffodil. Put my cock in your pussy.” 111

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More than willing, Daffodil fitted the broad head of Raulf’s cock at the slippery opening and then slowly lowered her body until she was sitting with his balls cushioned against her ass. He pulled her down so that her breasts were plastered against his chest and gently kissed her before asking, “You’re willing?” She looked him in the eye and saw the excitement and love there. This was something he wanted for her. Something he had planned with great care. Daffodil relaxed and determined to give this experience to Raulf. “Yes,” she replied with a nod. He bent his knees and spread them, making room for Undain. With a deep breath of anticipation, Undain rolled to his feet and strolled over to the bed. After casting a glance at the shelf over the bed to make sure that the warming oil was there, he crawled up on the bed and moved into position on his knees behind Daffodil. With a thoughtful little frown, he watched her move up and down on Raulf’s thick cock. The sight of that heavy staff filling Daffodil’s pussy was too much of a temptation for Undain. He stooped over and planted his mouth at the juncture, first licking Raulf’s cock, then swirling his tongue on the sensitive skin between Daffodil’s pussy and her ass. “If you keep playing around, I’m not going to last very long,” Raulf groaned. “Oh? Well, enough of that.” Undain sat up and reached for the oil. While Raulf held Daffodil still in his comforting arms, Undain dribbled the oil on her rosette before impishly adding a few drops at the base of Raulf’s cock. He lightly massaged it all around her opening before positioning his cock and pressing in while directing her to push. When the head popped inside, they all groaned. “Okay, sweetheart?” Raulf whispered in her ear. Daffodil nodded and panted. “Okay. Just…give me a minute.” Undain, experienced and wiser in the ways of ménage, held stock still. The warming oil began to work, spreading tingles everywhere it touched.

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Daffodil twitched and pressed down. “Ahhh. What did you do?” she squeaked. “Push back, little flower.” Waiting patiently for her to come to him, Undain made sure that he applied a steady counterpressure. The tingles from the oil on Raulf’s cock spread with every thrust. Soon Daffodil wasn’t sure whether she was coming or going. She just knew that she had to move. Then Undain reached around and tweaked her nipples with his oily fingers, spreading the tingles with each touch. With a screech, Daffodil bore down, taking both of them to the hilt. For a moment, time stopped and readjusted. Then the men began to move, one in, one out, alternating their thrusts. The barbells on Undain’s cock rubbed against Raulf’s cock. The slick lining between them offered little protection so that Raulf felt every bump and ridge as Undain’s cock slid past his. Soon they had a steady counter-rhythm that drove Daffodil over the edge very quickly. The thick cocks pistoning with hot precision, filling her in places that it seemed had never been touched before, drove her higher and higher. And then she was falling, falling down into the blaze, clutching and squeezing the cocks that pierced her. The men, both poised on the edge of climax, quickly joined her then, unable to resist. Still joined, they collapsed in a tumbled heap on the rumpled bed, throbbing and twitching in aftershocks. Finally, with a deep sigh, Undain carefully withdrew and patted Daffodil’s ass gently. “Stars of Avalon, but I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard in my life.” “Nor I,” Raulf admitted quietly. “It was an incredible experience.” A light snore alerted them to the fact that Daffodil had fallen into a doze. Raulf chuckled. “I guess we wore her out.” “I guess. Stay here and I’ll go fetch a cloth to clean her up. We can just let her sleep.” With a mighty yawn, Undain crawled from the bed and headed for the bathroom.

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Raulf cuddled her in his arms, drifting into a light doze. When he woke, Undain was gone, leaving a short note behind, thanking them both for allowing him to share their lives and bed. Raulf didn’t regret the experience at all but he had an idea that he wouldn’t be repeating it anytime soon. Daffodil was his, his alone.

***** Bart and Pansy settled into their new cottage on Chrystal Isle right next door to Percival and Ginnie. Pansy and Ginnie spent long hours chatting over the garden fence while Pansy taught Ginnie how to grow a thriving butterfly garden. Percival and Bart had several long heart-to-heart talks with Gareth about the state of Avalon. One afternoon as they sat enjoying the warm, sunny garden, Chrysanthemum trotted out with a letter from King Arthur. Everyone gathered around her while she read it aloud. Dear Gary and Chrys, You can come home now to Came-a-lot if you want. The rebels have been vankwished and Came-a-lot is safe. Undain has gone back to Earth to compleet his assinement. Honeysuckle and Dick and Peter have finished re-novating the Hieney estate. They are building a nursery. I suppose that means that Honey is going to have babies. I hope so. Then Nanny Anny will not come here to visit Nathan. Daffodil and Raulf have built a new dunjon in your old home, Chrys. They are starting a bondage school. Timmy is their assistant. Timmy is prooving to be a very attentive jaler for Morgana. The Knights of the Round Dungeon all went up there on a field trip to learn that rope bondage trick. It is very popular with the ladies in Came-a-lot. Prince Daz is keeping Florian busy on White Stag Isle. Florian has complaned that it’s harder to keep the unicorns’ manes and tales clean than it ever was to take care of my wardrobe. At least my clothes didn’t poke him in the ass.

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Gerald is sailing with Greenbeard, learning to be a pirate on Nathan’s directions. Nathan says we need another eye on the pirates. They also have Nigel as he stole the wardens keys and escaped from the Glass Tower. Bart’s paintings are selling like wild fire on Earth. Undain said his work is like some dead fellow named Van Go. Please ask Percie to bring you home so Chrys can whip this place into shape. I’m tired of running the castle. Come home. Besides, the baby should be born here. Love, Your King Arthur P.S. Aonghus the Horse Knight helped me with the spelling. He did good. Rite? Please tell him so that he kwits asking me.

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About the Author Anny Cook learned to read at five years old. Learning to write was a natural extension. Through her adult years while a wife, mother, grandmother, fast food cook, warehouse book packer, Girl Scout and Cub Scout Leader, perpetual college student, executive secretary, and adult education teacher, writing served as the anchor that kept her sane. Well, maybe not exactly sane, but close to it. Today, after thirty-five years with kids, cats, dogs, guinea pigs, and hamsters, she and her husband are empty nesters. Sigh. Finally, there’s time—and quiet—to write in peace.

Anny welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

Tell Us What You Think We appreciate hearing reader opinions about our books. You can email us at [email protected].

Also by Anny Cook Flowers of Camelot 1: Chrysanthemum Flowers of Camelot 2: Honeysuckle Mystic Valley: Everything Lovers Can Know Mystic Valley: Traveller’s Refuge Mystic Valley: Cherished Destinies Winter Hearts

Also see this author’s titles at Cerridwen Press (www.cerridwenpress.com):

Mystic Valley: Dancer’s Delight

Discover for yourself why readers can’t get enough of the multiple award-winning publisher Ellora’s Cave. Whether you prefer e-books or paperbacks, be sure to visit EC on the web at www.ellorascave.com for an erotic reading experience that will leave you breathless.

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