by Hall, Ian
I withdrew and lay on my back on the rock, looking up through the leafy covering to the darkened sky above.
To my surprise, Eleanor snuggled close. “Why, Master DeVere, you seem to have got yourself all dirty.” Her fingers danced on my softening member. “You need cleaning up.”
And to my utter pleasure, she bent to the task, her lips and tongue quickly bringing me to fullness with considerable ease.
Amazingly, I felt like I needed her again, but the reality of putting my face between her thighs presented itself, and I pulled her head from me, remembering the need of bathing. “We have no time for more. Sorry. We must ride to Richmond.”
She gave me a questioning look, but did stop her attentions on me. “But I’ve told you before, Master DeVere, I cannot ride.”
I almost argued against her, considering her recent history, but the humor remained unsaid.
Ten minutes later, we were back at the castle, and I stood getting a horse saddled.
I pulled her up to the saddle, and sat her in front of me, astride the horse.
“I cannot travel like this!” She twisted in my grip.
I grabbed her chin, and told her to sleep, and in moments she lay back, limp in my grasp.
I rode only half a mile or so, then dismounted and pulled her over my shoulder. I slapped the rump of the horse, sending it skittering away at a gallop. But now I had to deal with carrying a woman with somewhat voluptuous skirts that just got in the way.
In the end I couldn’t manage the same speed as before, but I still made Malvern by early morning.
Banging loudly on the large priory door, I shouted for attention.
A small door opened in the large one, and a brown cassocked monk poked his head out. “What is it?”
“I have a lady for bathing, on orders of the King.”
He looked at the bundle over my shoulder. “Does she have sickness?”
“No, she sleeps. But I must get her bathed. She is to be presented to His Highness, the Prince Arthur tomorrow, in Richmond Palace.”
“We have no nuns here, we cannot be involved.”
“I’ll do it myself.” I shook my head. “It is very important to the Prince that she be presented. If I don’t get her bathed, the King will hear of it in days, and you’ll lose all his support.”
He looked exasperated. “I’ll speak to the Prior.”
I had to wait at least half an hour, but the door opened, and I got directed to the dark pools of steaming water. The monk almost ran away to leave us alone in the bathing area.
I woke her up and she wasted no time in ridding herself of her dress. Once naked, I got a good look at the Mistress Eleanor. She’d let her hair down, and her sandy locks fell onto her shoulders. Small, firm breasts with prominent nipples gave her slender figure an almost elven appearance, and the down that lay between her legs mirrored the shade above.
She made no effort to cover herself, then advanced towards me, a smile effusing her face.
“Again, I’m at your service, Master DeVere.”
Well, she dropped herself to her knees, and began to worry my belt buckle. “Get into the water,” I said, helping her disrobe me. “I want you in the water.”
And for the second time in a day, amazed at her power over me, I enjoyed the body of the Mistress Eleanor.
September 26th, 1501
Presentation
We reached Richmond in the dark of the next night, and found the Prince and the King’s retinue were still at Westminster, so I whisked Eleanor to my room and let her sleep.
Lady Jane proved easy to find the next morning after breakfast, in deep giggling conversation with a group of other young ladies, roaming in the fledgling gardens of the palace. She detached herself as I approached.
“Why, Master DeVere, you look simply ravishing this morning.”
I bowed and smiled. Considering I’d fed twice in the last day, I should be looking good. “Thank you, madam. I need some help, and the whole thing is thoroughly confidential.”
She looked intrigued.
“I have need of a dress, a nice one, but it has to be quick.”
She frowned. “Most seamstresses work to order. Very few will have completed garments, unless they are samples, for display.”
“Then that’s what we must go for.”
“Eh, the lady’s size?”
“Maybe a couple of inches shorter than you, but pretty much the same size, probably less, you know, chesty.”
She grinned. “So the lady’s bosom does not compare to mine? And how would you have made that comparison?”
It had taken mere moments for the green god of jealousy to raise its ugly head. “I bathed her at Malvern. Let’s just say her hygiene wasn’t the best in the world, and I needed her spotless. I will also need some of that oil you use so well.”
“The rosemary?”
“The very same.”
“Am I to let myself become envious of your new love?”
I took her hand, pulling her towards the nearby town of Sheen, immediately outside the palace grounds. “You have no need for jealousy, my sweet. You already have my heart, and where that lies, my body will follow.”
Oh, even I felt good about that line. It seems she did too, her face settling into a very wide grin, and striding out for the gate out to the town.
The dress did in fact prove more difficult that I’d hoped. Eventually I had to pay well over the normal price for a dress which had already been made to order for a lady in waiting in the Queen’s chamber in London. But bought with the profits of my thievery, it seemed of little import in the grand scheme of things.
When we returned to the palace, the kitchens were a hub of excitement and a frenzy of activity; the King and Queen would return tonight, with their children.
I had gotten Eleanor to Richmond just in time.
To allay any further suspicion in Lady Jane’s mind, I led her to my room, and showed her the sleeping form.
“Why, it is the girl from Ludlow,” she said, approaching the bed. “She is no more than a drudge.”
“She is of low caste, yes, my Lady. But I will dine with her tonight, so we need her changed into her new dress.”
Jane’s eyes opened wide. “This is indeed a huge difference from her present garb.”
“I need her hair done, too. And whatever makeup you ladies wear.”
“I’ll get some of the other ladies; we’ll bring her up a notch or two.” She crossed back to me, and placed her arms around my neck. “Whose eye are we trying to catch? I mean, you say she’s not of interest to you.”
I didn’t really want her having all the details of the plan, but initially I needed her help. “Prince Arthur finds her comely.”
“The Prince!”
I hushed her, pushing her arms from me, and holding her still. It seemed she wanted to jump up and down.
“You intend to seduce the Prince?”
“I intend to get His Grace interested in the female form, so that when he is bedded with his Princess Catherine, he will at least know what he’s expected to do.”
She considered my words for a moment, then shooed me out of the room, seemingly happy with her role in our little intrigue.
A couple of hours later, as the dinner bell sounded, I returned to my room to find three ladies standing in front of Eleanor. They looked very pleased with themselves, and slowly they stepped to one side to show the results of their labor.
My. She looked quite stunning, and although I liked her hair down and wild, the braiding and pinning framed her face perfectly.
“You ladies have excelled yourselves.” I approached and motioned that she spin for me. “Simply stunning,” I said, then, as the ladies left the room in single file, bowed to each.
Eleanor stood, her face flushed with questions. “They wouldn’t tell me what this was about.”
“Tonight, my dear Eleanor, you will dine at my side, and look perfectly normal. At some point in the evening, you will catch the eye of th
e Prince. Looking at you right now, I’m certain he will take notice of you. When he sees you, be shy, be slightly embarrassed, and smile back at him.” I motioned that she practice.
She did as I had bid her, but the smile looked way too ‘fuck me’ than I needed. “Less of the sensual, my dear; I only need a simple smile tonight.”
At dinner, as I expected, even some of the courtiers advanced on the lady on my arm, asking for an introduction, sniffing out the new meat in the room. When we sat at one of the lesser tables, I ensured that we faced the Royal table, still yet unattended.
When the throng had settled, the trumpeters walked theatrically in and heralded the arrival of the King and his court. We stood and bowed as they strode to their table. Arthur looked particularly bored, his shoulders drooped, and the new robe looked ill-fitting, large, and heavy on his slight frame.
So the courses began. Small portions of pheasant, sweet duck, quail eggs, and many other exotic combinations were placed in front of us. I instructed Eleanor to eat sparingly, and she seemed to graze evenly through the meal.
Soon, the meat gave way to tarts and sponge cake. Altogether far too flamboyant for my taste, considering the poor would be dining on scraps. I remembered my first visit to a peasant house, and the squalor they lived in.
Then Eleanor nudged me in the ribs, and I looked at her gaze, her smile, the blush in her eyes. I didn’t even have to look at the Prince to know my plan had been a success.
“Well done, my dear.” I nodded, knowing she’d see the motion.
“He keeps looking back.”
“Then let him,” I said, flushed with pride. “Smile, even give a slight nod if you feel he’ll see.”
“Oh, he sees all right.”
Then the trumpeted announcement at the end of the meal blasted across the room. No dances or jugglers this night, thank goodness.
I led Eleanor from the large dining room, between the rows of fawning suitors, seemingly trying to find anyone to share a bed for the evening. Their comments varied from polite to downright lewd, and would have provoked me to violence if the ‘plan’ to catch the Prince’s eye hadn’t worked.
As I led her along the corridors to my room, I suddenly remembered that I hadn’t got a room for her; the consideration simply hadn’t broached itself. I led her to my room, guided her inside, and returned to the dining room myself. Thankfully, Mistress Phillipa still lingered, and I got a private word.
“How do I get another room?”
“The one you have is unsuitable?” She looked quite shocked.
I shook my head. “I have a guest; I need the room for her. It would be unsuitable for us to share a room at this time.”
“Then it is easy,” she said. “The rooms on your floor on the north side are mostly empty, just find one, and it’s hers. They all have bolts on the inside; she’ll be quite safe.”
Thankful for a simple solution, I moved Eleanor to her new home, and returned to my own room. It had been a frantic last few days, and I relished the idea of a good night’s sleep.
But of course, the life of a vampire is never dull.
Moments after slipping under the rough sheets, a quiet knocking at the door roused me. “Yes?”
I sighed inwardly as the door opened, and a crouching white-draped form quickly whisked inside. Unable to see her identity, I refrained from using a name, aware that any one of three could apply. “Who’s there?”
Then I smelled the distinct aroma of rosemary, so thus cutting Princess Margaret from the list of possibilities.
“It’s me, silly.” Lady Jane’s voice crossed the room, followed by her delightful body. I didn’t really hold any complaint when she pulled herself beside me, and I kissed her with tenderness and relish before my ardor became aroused and my lust took over.
But I did feel weary, and when she found herself atop me, I didn’t mind her doing most of the maneuvering. I grabbed her hanging breasts through the thin material of her nightdress and pulled on her nipples as her pussy ground out a wonderful rhythm down below.
Initially, I gave her free reign on my body, content not to feed from her this time, but as my passion rose and as I neared orgasm, I felt my fangs ‘click’ into place, anticipating the normal ‘end’ to my lovemaking.
As our bodies shuddered together, our fluids coursing and mixing inside her, I rose and planted my teeth onto her neck with a hungered passion, drawing her blood into my mouth, gasping as it coursed down my throat.
Then she fell onto me, satiated, her lips finding mine, her tongue pushing at me, our passion dying wonderfully as she lay atop me, panting into my mouth.
“You are quite beautiful, my Lady Jane.” I smiled up at the shadow of her face.
“Oh, I am ‘yours’ now, am I?”
“Oh, yes. If someone else were to stand in my way to you, they’d find themselves pushing up daisies pretty quickly.”
“Oh my, Master DeVere, you say the strangest things sometimes.”
Raining kisses on my face, she slid from my body, then from the bed.
“I must not be seen running from here in the morning,” she said as she crossed the room. “It would not be seemly.”
And off she went, her feet making rustling running noises along the corridor.
I lay back on the hard, crunchy pillow, and fell delightfully asleep. My dreams took me back to a diner in Connecticut, where Lady Jane served me morning coffee, then bent down to let me see her cleavage in her brown waitress uniform.
Then she crept below the Formica and steel table and unzipped me. Oh my, the feeling of that warm mouth covering me felt incredible.
I awoke slowly, inwardly cursing myself for not staying in the coffee shop.
For a second, I gazed around the room, exasperated that the coffee shop in my dream had gone, replaced by an ancient bedroom, but still the memory of that mouth moved on me.
I sighed, and leant back into the pillow, gazing out the window at the first lights of dawn.
Yet still the feeling of her mouth suffused me, lingering in reality, long after I’d admitted it should be gone. I reached downward to grab my penis and masturbate in the remaining glow of her memory.
But my fingers met hair, and a head, and she still sucked on me. “Oh, Jane,” I said out loud. Then fingers grasped me, pumping me as she sucked on the tip, her tongue lashing all around.
With the weight of her body on my legs pinning me to the bed, I closed my eyes and lost myself in her ministrations.
As she pulled on me, despite my previous night’s spending, I felt my seed rise again, then with her hand insistently milking me, I coursed into her mumbling mouth, and down her throat.
She swallowed every drop, her mouth never leaving contact with me.
She sucked and moved, then slowly surfaced, leaving me clean, leaving me drained and lifeless.
“I quite like the taste of Lady Jane,” she said, finally lifting her head from me.
For a second I grinned at her joke, then lifted my head from the pillow, and looked down at the very sexy sight of Eleanor, licking her lips, grinning up the bed at me.
“Good morning, sire.”
September 29th, 1501
The Prince Rises
The next morning, I grinned with satisfaction as the Prince sought me out as I read in the very expansive library at the palace. “Master DeVere, the lady you dined with last night.”
“Yes, Your Grace?”
“She looked very familiar.”
I grinned inwardly. “The Mistress Eleanor from Ludlow Castle, Your Grace. A new addition in your sister’s court.”
“Oh.” He looked somewhat perplexed. “She appeared different, older perhaps.” And he dismissed himself, walking away his hand rubbing his chin.
So the Prince had at last shown interest in the female form. I now had to devise a method of further education before his bride arrived and dragged him to bed.
Unfortunately I only got to see the young man once each day, and our meetings were sub
ject to all kinds of interruptions. It seemed that the only time he spent on his own was on his knees in prayer, and that’s where I’d have to make my move.
I gave him a day to ruminate on the ‘new’ Eleanor, then found my new lady in her room, ready to coach her in her new role.
It took but half an hour to brief Eleanor with my instructions, then another ten minutes to find the chapel the Prince had closeted himself in. The two guards on the door paid us no heed when we walked inside.
“On you go,” I whispered in her ear and watched her approach the altar where the Prince knelt. Her footsteps echoed slightly in the high-vaunted ceiling, and the Prince looked up, turning his head. I hid near the doorway, standing in the shadows.
“Beg pardon, your Majesty,” Eleanor said softly. “May I share your devotion? I feel a need of prayer.”
Despite his normal nervousness, I’d never seen him so skittish. “Yes, of course.” He looked all around, and satisfied they were alone, he returned to his prayer.
Eleanor knelt in the aisle and crossed herself, her head bowed. Of course, that emphasized her cleavage to the Prince’s gaze, but he did not avert his eyes. She pulled herself onto a pew, and began to mumble her ‘prayers’.
Arthur turned away, doing likewise.
For a while they sat apart, then, absolutely on cue, Eleanor began to gently sob.
Man, for so little instruction the girl played such a good part. But of course, despite her efforts, Arthur proved a difficult subject, and remained at the altar until I began to wonder if my plan had any chance of success. Then Arthur turned again, his eyes searching out the sound, looking back up the chapel at Eleanor’s bobbing head.
Slowly he got to his feet and closed the distance between them. “Why do you weep, Mistress Eleanor?” His voice, although quiet, sounded clear to me.
She sniffed, and looked up. “It is a matter of little import to you, Your Grace. In fact, little import to the world.”
