The Tales of Sir Dwayne - 3: The Offer
She offered an honor.
He honored her offer.
And it is was on her and off her all night!
Dwayne smiled at the thought. The whore, nee Lady Brigit, trailed along behind, half stumbling, her tattered dress dirtier. It had been a long day; a long, dusty walk. She'd stop a moment, only to be pulled along by her bound wrists. A long, dusty, boring day. And he was in need. He had had no release the prior night. Having the whore had put him into a mind where release was a given.
But he had given the whore to James last night. The sheriff, his closest friend, asked if she was available. They had been drinking in the inn, the whore serving their drinks, fetching refills, the sheriff focused on every sway of the whore's full, ripe hips.
"Dwayne. My friend," he said, eyes heavy. "The whore. Perchance ..."
"Aye, take her." Dwayne waved his hand. "'Tis but little good to me dragging her about. Take her. She tires me."
The whore, kneeling at their feet rocked back, eyes wide.
"You! Whore! The sheriff would like a taste of your nectar. Would you offer such a taste?"
The whore blinked - blinked again - bowed her head, nodded.
"Aye, Sir Dwayne."
"Aye, what?"
"'Tis a taste he wants, 'tis a taste he shall have."
Dwayne clapped his friend on the shoulder as he rose to leave."
"Aye, then. Take her."
And take her he did.
"Has he never had a woman!"
Dwayne chewed his breakfast.
"He put me in a cell and ... and ..."
"Honored your offer."
"My what!"
Dwayne waved his hand, a dismissive gesture.
"I ... I shall ..."
"You shall fetch me another bowl."
The whore blinked, started to say something, thought better of it, nodded.
"Aye, Sir."
The chains hobbling her ankles clattered as she made her way across the inn.
James came in.
"My friend, fare thee well?"
The sheriff made a face, a bit of a leer and a wink.
"Aye. Well. Very well indeed. 'Tis a prime whore, Dwayne. Prime."
Dwayne felt a flush of jealousy. Lady Birgit was his betrothed. Not so much in fact as in circumstance. About the manor it was well known that they spent much time together and the few suitors that approached were put off by the knight's stature. He had never threatened them. He was simply pledged to the lady and stayed near to ensure her safety and virtue. The thought made Dwayne smirk. Virtue?
Out here on the edge of the shire, none knew of this. He was a knight errant and she but a whore, something he had acquired, dragged along behind. Something to warm his nights. Most nights she slept chained in the stable. Less a lady, or even whore, but another low animal. And he liked her that way. Back in the dark recesses of the stable he would mount her. She would beat at him, scratch, buck, and make the most unladylike sounds as she found her release ... and he his.
During the day, he tied her wrists and she trailed behind his horse, walking proudly at first, but as the day wore on, staggering, stumbling, until she was totally spent. Spent until Dwayne raised her skirts and drained the last drop of her essence, filling her with his own.
"Please! Sir Dwayne."
Dwayne reigned his horse, turned. He liked the sound: Sir. Not just simply "Dwayne."
"I beseech you. A rest. Sir? Please?"
Dwayne nudged the horse, the whore trotted to keep up. He looked back.
"Once you've earned your keep for the night, then you shall have a rest."
Dwayne registered the shocked look on her face, urged the horse onward.
"You bring a whore?"
Dwayne took the paper from the gate keeper.
"Aye."
He rolled it up, tucked it in his belt.
"How many are you?"
"Eight, Sir."
"One go each, then."
The other looked up, uncomprehending. Dwayne held up a finger.
"You shall avail yourselves once, only once, each of you - the whore - for your pleasure."
"Aye, Sir."
"But, mind you, treat her well. 'Tis a gift from the sheriff. If you treat her ill, he will hear of it. Mark my word. And you will have to deal with me. 'Tis my property. A whore, yes, but even a whore has certain value."
Dwayne handed the rope lead to the guard, turned his horse, and trotted away. He didn't look back.
"Dwayne, how could you?"
The whore, now lady Birgit, dressed every bit a lady, sipped her wine. The fire roared. Two servants stood by, otherwise they were alone in the great room.
"You had expressed a certain boredom after our last outings." Dwayne shrugged.
"Do you know what they did to me!"
Dwayne tossed back the last of his wine.
No he did not, but, yes, he wanted to know so he could go back and wring necks, but these outings were Lady Birgit's idea and he orchestrated them to her liking - whether she knew it or not.
No, I do not know what they did. What did you offer?
20.12.11
story continues in The Tales of Sir Dwayne 4: The Lady Is Trained
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