The Earl's ManChapter 4 free porn video

The young woman she brought out to meet me was a stunningly beautiful redhead, far more beautiful than the Earl’s daughter had been, and fourteen years of age. I knew immediately what would happen to her. A wealthy merchant would buy her indenture and would use her each night for his pleasure after requiring her to finish a long, grueling day of work.

She obviously knew it, too, and bowed nervously as she approached. She stood silently, eyes downcast while the woman who owned the shop introduced Anne Clement to me and then extolled her aptitude as a seamstress. When I agreed to purchase the remaining two years of her apprenticeship, I saw the girl relax, obviously relieved.

She quickly gathered her meager belongings and hugged the woman goodbye, tearfully thanking her for everything. We stopped at a couple of shops where I bought the things that she indicated she would need to sew fancy dresses for my wife, mother, and sister. After having her ride behind me until we cleared the city gates and the crowds of people, I let her keep riding and walked next to her the rest of the way to her home, mystifying her since most nobles would have ridden while she walked. Halfway to her home, on a quiet stretch of country road, she finally broke down in tears.

“I thought you would be happy to know you’re safe,” I commented, confused. She slid off the horse and collapsed on her knees in front of me, looking up at me with a tear-streaked face.

“Please,” she begged, sobbing, “I will do anything you ask of me if you save my mother and brother from prison,” she sobbed. When I helped her up, she mistook my intentions and closed the distance between us, nervously offering her lips to me.

“I appreciate your offer, and I intend to pay your family’s debts, but I am only looking for a skilled seamstress to sew the latest fashions for my wife, mother, and sister,” I told the stunned girl.

Sometime later--after she had cried herself out in relief, we arrived at her home. Her mother stiffened when she saw us and noted her daughter’s tear-stained face. Seeing that her mother thought that I was there to take her daughter away. Anne hurried over to reassure her mother, and while hugging her mother tightly, explained that I was going to pay off their debts. I could see where Anne got her looks.

After an appropriate curtsey, the mother introduced herself as Wendy and hugged me, sensuously promising to serve me faithfully in any manner I deemed appropriate. Thanking her for her offer, I explained again that my intentions were only for her daughter to work as a seamstress for my wife, mother, and sister, and promised that I had no further designs on either her or her daughter. I suggested that she and her son Humfrey learn to make silk bowstrings or help gather wild elm for the Welsh bowyers. I was sure there would be plenty of other work for her to do. I just wasn’t sure yet what it would be.

I left Anne, her meager belongings, and our purchases and took Wendy back to town with me where I paid off the £2 they owed. I then took her to a blacksmith’s shop and bought a covered farm wagon. I paid the blacksmith for a trained team of horses and tack for the wagon. I was going to pay someone take Wendy home in the wagon, but she insisted that she knew how to handle a team of four horses already. I told her to have everything packed and ready to go at dawn Friday and I’d come by to get them shortly after dawn. Then I stopped by the Eilet home and told them we would be leaving Friday morning at or shortly after dawn. The news was obviously good since John looked very happy. “Now Joan and I can be married tomorrow,” he announced proudly. I had him accompany me to the armorer and purchased him a longsword similar to mine, and six crossbows, each with two sheaves of bolts. I didn’t expect to take any soldiers with us on the trip back, so I’d need to give everyone basic lessons in using the crossbow in case we needed them.

Thursday was again uneventful. I talked once more with the King about me meeting with King Baliol and met one more of my new barons. Both the King and my new baron were impressed with what I’d already done to prepare for the potential of a spring invasion.

3

Dawn Friday found me at the front door of the Eilet home. John and Joan were waiting, as was John’s sister. I managed to keep from laughing at the obviously well fucked look on Joan’s face as she fawned over her new husband. His parents greeted me, anxious to thank me for what I’d done. Shortly afterward, we arrived at the Clement’s cottage where the family waited nervously for us. John and I jury-rigged the two-wheeled cart to the back of the cargo wagon and helped to finish hooking all four horses to the cargo wagon. Then I spent a little time giving them lessons on the crossbow. By the time we finished, they could hit anything within twenty-five feet as long as it wasn’t moving quickly.

Fortunately, their meager prowess with the crossbow was never needed. The six-day trip was relatively uneventful. My six indentured servants spent much of the time trying to get to know me better. John, Susan, and Joan rode in the back of the wagon, making silk bowstrings to pass the time. Humfrey and Wendy joined them, starting to learn the complicated process John made look so easy.

It rained more often than not, and our nightly stops were a welcome relief from the cold drizzle. Twice I managed to trade a deer I’d killed for our room and board for the night, saving valuable coins.

Our last night out, the tavern only had one room available. In spite of the women’s insistence, John, Humfrey, and I spent the night in the stable. I was quite surprised to wake up the next morning sandwiched between the soft, warm bodies of Anne and Susan. Anne mumbled in protest when I carefully removed my hand from her firm, young, naked breast. I’d gotten into the habit of sleeping snuggled against Margaret’s backside with her breast in my hand and had evidently done the same thing to Anne in my sleep.

“Don’t,” she complained sleepily, pulling my hand back to her breast. When I removed it anyway, she rolled over facing me. “I liked your hand there,” she whispered.

“My wife likes my hand there, too, and will be the only woman who gets to enjoy the feeling,” I explained quietly. “Besides, I thought you were happy that I didn’t expect you to have sex with me,” I reminded her.

“That was before I got to know you. Now I hope you will let me be a consort,” she offered.

“But why?” I replied.

“You’re handsome, thoughtful, caring, and earned the title of Duke at only sixteen years of age. It will be very prestigious to be your consort. Even my mother agrees,” she added.

“Your mother knows you’re here?” I gasped.

“Of course, she thinks I would be a very lucky woman to be your consort.”

Surprised to think her mother would condone such a relationship for her daughter, I decided it was time to get up. After a quick breakfast, we were on the road again. Rather than taking a chance of letting Anne continue the conversation of this morning, I rode my horse and let Wendy drive the wagon while everyone else continued making bowstrings. I had trouble all day trying to push the memory of the sight and feel of Anne’s breasts from my mind.

As dusk approached, we were close to Lancaster and pushed on through dinnertime, arriving at the Manor House near bedtime. One of the Manor’s grooms came out to answer the guard’s call as our wagons rolled into the courtyard. Leaving him to tend to the wagons and horses, we took the bags of gold, jewels, and coins inside.

My mother heard us enter and hurried over to hug me. “We heard that you had captured all the remaining Barons and took them to London,” she exclaimed.

“And I am now the Duke of York and of Lancaster,” I replied.

I introduced my stunned mother to our guests, and she insisted on getting them dinner. With a mischievous look in her eyes, she turned to me. “My Lord’s bedroom is the first room on the left at the top of the stairs. Your son and his three mothers are up there,” she chuckled. Seeing the confusion on my face, she clarified her statement. “Margaret, Abby, and Gemma hover over him all day. I swear Abby and Gemma would nurse him if they could,” she sighed dramatically.

I bounded up the stairs, excited at the thought of seeing Margaret and John. Moans and sighs caught my attention as the door swung silently inward and I stood, frozen in the doorway, unable to believe the tableau playing out before me. The baby was nursing from Margaret’s swollen breasts. Margaret was lying on her side, sucking on a naked Gemma’s breasts while my equally naked sister lay on her stomach between Gemma’s spread legs, her face buried in Gemma’s sex.

I started to back out of the room, realizing that I shouldn’t be there watching two naked women besides my wife, especially since one of them was my sister. Unfortunately, my sword caught the doorframe and Margaret heard it. “Mike!” she gasped, the surprised look on her face probably a copy of the one on my face.

“Sorry ... I uuuuuhhhhh...” I stammered as I backed out of the room.

“Mike, wait, please,” Margaret cried out quietly. I could hear the tears in her voice so I waited just outside the door. “Mike, wait, please,” she cried again. The baby started crying when she jumped up and he lost his meal. I heard quick whisperings of conversation between the girls while Margaret threw on a robe.

She was surprised to find me waiting just outside the door, practically running me over as she rushed to catch up with me. She grabbed me, desperately, and buried her face against me and sobbed. She was surprised when I pulled her face up and kissed her, hugging her to me. “You ... you’re not angry?” she stammered.

“Surprised, yes, angry, no,” I answered. “I haven’t been here much lately and you are a woman full of passion,” I reminded her.

I balked when she started to pull me back into the room. “Shouldn’t you let Abby and Gemma dress first?” I reminded her.

She looked quickly into the room. “They’re covered,” she said, pulling me into the room again. Both girls were sitting up in the bed with the covers pulled up to their chin, watching me nervously.

Margaret made sure to bolt the door this time, and then led me over to sit next to her on the bed. Taking a squalling John back from Gemma she let the top of her robe fall open. I watched, captivated, as John greedily found a breast and latched on, suckling happily.

“Are you sure you’re not upset?” Margaret asked watching my face for any change of expression.

“I told you I’m not. In fact, as long as you save some of your passion for me, I am willing to leave the three of you alone to finish,” I answered.

I saw the subtle expression changes and smiles pass between all three girls. “I have a better suggestion,” Margaret said in her sultry voice. “Perhaps I can convince you to stay and join us. Gemma and I were hoping you hadn’t picked out all three of your new wives while you were in London and would consider her for one of your wives or at least for one of your consorts,” she continued. She smiled at the look on my face, probably similar to the one I had when I found out I was being elevated to Earl.

Gamely holding John so as not to interrupt his meal, Margaret fished around with one hand unfastening my pants. When I glanced at Gemma, she had an almost predatory grin on her face, and lowered the covers she had been holding up, exposing her small (compared to Margaret) but nicely shaped breasts. Gemma was a very attractive young woman, her slender build very unlike Margaret’s stocky build and more like the young women in London who had been trying to catch my eye. Her small breasts were pure white, each capped with a tiny pink nipple. I figured that if I cupped my hands, they would fit perfectly over Gemma’s breasts.

Not to be outdone, my sister also lowered her covers, her look making it perfectly clear that, sister or not, she had no intention of being left out of whatever was about to happen. Being two years younger than Margaret and Gemma, Abby’s breasts were even smaller than Gemma’s, but still excited me more than I cared to admit.

Both girls gasped when Margaret freed my raging erection from its confinement and lowered her face, engulfing my cock in her warm mouth. When Abby leaned over and kissed Gemma, I exploded in Margaret’s mouth. Gamely, she caught it all, grinning lewdly at me when she had finished capturing my cum, and then milked my deflating cock to make sure every precious drop was hers.

I gasped again when Margaret kissed Abby, making sure I could see my cum rolling off her tongue into Abby’s young mouth. Almost taunting me, Abby showed me the cum on her tiny pink tongue before swallowing it. Margaret repeated the scene with Gemma and Gemma gave me a smoldering look leaving little doubt in my mind as to how far this game was going to go tonight.

“Get undressed while I get Gemma ready for you,” Margaret commanded in her sultry voice.

Instead, I pulled her over to me. “Why are you doing this? I told you I’m not upset,” I insisted quietly.

“When you started courting me, Gemma stopped talking to me for months. She feels the same way about you that I do, and was upset when you chose me over her. Now that you are an Earl, you can have four wives, and it is not uncommon for you to have one or more concubines in addition,” she said nonchalantly.

Shooing me off the bed to remove my clothing, she pulled the covers back, completely exposing both Gemma and Abby, well below Abby’s sparse patch of pubic hair. Neither made a move to cover themselves. Clutching John who was still attached to her breast, Margaret lay on her back on the bed with her head towards me and motioned to Gemma. The look Gemma gave me made my cock twitch as she moved above Margaret, turning to face Margaret’s feet, which completely exposed her tight ass and pussy to me.

Looking upside down and backwards to make sure I was watching, Margaret raised her head and ran her tongue along the slick furrow between Gemma’s labia, eliciting a moan of appreciation from Gemma. My cock grew harder and twitched with each heartbeat watching my wife’s tongue teasing the sex of another woman.

Margaret looked back at me again, her lips and cheeks glazed with Gemma’s secretions. She motioned me forward and when I got close enough she took my cock and aimed it at Gemma’s virgin pussy. I stopped when the head was firmly seated at the opening to her sex, but both Margaret and Gemma urged me forward.

“What the hell,” I thought to myself, grabbing Gemma’s hips and pressing forward enough to put pressure on her maidenhead. Abby handed Gemma a pillow, and I could occasionally feel Margaret’s tongue on my cock as she licked Gemma’s sex at our joining. Not wanting to be left out, Abby joined us, kneeling beside Gemma. It was obvious her one hand was busy fondling one of Gemma’s breasts. Her other hand slipped between Gemma and I, teasing where we were joined.

“We all want this; do it,” Margaret encouraged huskily.

“Please,” Gemma begged as I continued to tease her, not yet penetrating her hymen.

This time, when I pressed against her hymen, I pushed through. Gemma cried out into the pillow and I stopped, giving her time for the pain to subside. I had done the same thing for Margaret our first time, but Margaret had never stopped, urging me to keep going. Abby was lying next to Gemma, gently kissing her face. Something was whispered, and Abby told me to continue.

Starting slowly, I gradually picked up speed, encouraged when Gemma began pushing back to meet my thrusts. She definitely wanted my cock buried in her virgin pussy. I was thoroughly enjoying the feeling of her slender hips as I used them to pull and push her on and off my cock. This was definitely a position Margaret and I were going to have to try when she was fully healed. I wondered if Gemma would return the favor and lick Margaret while we made love.

Once again, Abby slipped her hand between us and toyed with my cock. “What the hell,” I thought and pulled Abby’s face over and kissed her. Momentarily surprised by my action, she responded quickly and eagerly, and her tiny pink tongue slipped into my mouth, seeking and then dueling with my tongue. Remembering the sight of that same tongue covered earlier with my cum started a familiar tingling in my balls. I broke my kiss with Abby and grabbed Gemma’s hips, fucking her faster and harder. Gemma started moaning, her thrusts back to meet me beginning to get slightly uncoordinated.

Her fingers thoroughly coated with our sex juices, Abby pulled her hand out from between us. “Watch this,” she whispered, suddenly spearing her tiny finger through the tight pink ring of muscle surrounding Gemma’s nether opening. Gemma’s head reared back and she managed to partially stifle her scream before slamming her head back down onto the pillow where she muffled the scream of surprise and ecstasy. I felt the already tight walls of her pussy pulsing even tighter as she orgasmed around my throbbing cock and it sent me over the edge. Gemma’s cries of passion had been waning but picked up again when she felt me erupt, pumping pulse after pulse of cum into her pussy for her first time ever. I didn’t remember ever coming so hard or so much before, even during Margaret’s and my first time.

When my balls finally finished emptying themselves, I pulled Gemma into an upright kneeling position and caressed her breasts, enjoying the feeling of her naked skin in my hands while I kissed the back and side of her neck. “I’m beginning to think you might make a suitable wife, but I will require much more convincing,” I teased.

When my cock wilted enough to slip out of Gemma’s cum-filled pussy, Abby pushed her backwards onto the bed and attacked her pussy, delving deep inside with her tongue to lick out my cum. While she did, Margaret slurped my semi-erect, pink-tinged cock into her mouth and sucked our combined sex juices from it, grinning lewdly up at me the entire time. When she finally had me completely hard again, she pointed at Abby’s exposed backside. Abby and Gemma had changed positions so they were in a “69” position, Abby on the top with her business end aimed at me like Gemma had been a short while before.

While it was unusual for a noble to take a close relative as a wife, it was neither illegal nor unheard of. As often as Abby had commented over the years that she wished she could marry me, I could see that she was now staking her claim.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” I asked Abby one last time as I hugged her from behind the same way I’d done with Gemma when we finished. She nodded, too choked up to answer, happy tears rolling down her cheeks. Rather than have me take her from behind, though, she rolled to the side and pulled me on top of her.

I leaned down to kiss her small breasts and felt her hand guiding my cock between her labia and against the opening of her impossibly tight sheath. I pressed forward carefully, teasing her as I had Gemma. When I finally felt she was ready, I thrust the head of my cock completely inside of Abby. Her eyes bugged out as I shredded her virginity, and I stopped to let her recover.

When she was ready to continue, Abby wrapped her legs around me, locked her ankles, and then met each of my gentle thrusts with a more demanding thrust of her own. Our pace quickly built until I was fucking her like a rabbit, except I didn’t come nearly as quickly. I savored both the feeling of her already-tight pussy clenching around my cock and watching the bliss and pleasure on her face with her first orgasm. I continued thrusting into her for a while longer, watching her beautiful face scrunch up right before each of her next two orgasms. I also enjoyed watching her tiny titties jiggling wildly as we fucked. When I came in her virgin pussy, she came for the fourth time.

I crashed on the bed next to her after sliding out of her. I vaguely remember hearing female voices whispering and giggling quietly before I fell asleep.

John woke me once in the middle of the night when he made sure everyone knew he wanted to be fed and changed. He was still asleep when I finally woke up the next morning but my movement on the bed woke him. Margaret sleepily directed him to her breast and smiled at me before closing her eyes again. Abby and Gemma also stayed in bed when I got up.

“I take it Claire finally went home,” I commented at breakfast, remembering her visit the last time I was here.

“Actually, she should be back in a week or two to try again. She’s extremely smitten with you. She said she’s never seen anyone handle a bow so confidently and smoothly. In addition, new nobles usually spend a week bragging to everyone and making fools out of themselves. You spent one day shopping for things for your troops and family, and then left for home with the troops to begin the campaign against York. The fact that you slept on the ground with the men rather than stopping at an inn for the night made her realize that you’re much different from the pompous, pampered nobles she’s been around most of her life. She says that you are a real man compared to the others who only pretend to be men.

“I told her about your concern that she was too used to the pampered life of a nobleman’s daughter and that she would have a hard time outside of the Manor House. I promised that we’d consider her if she came back, though,” Margaret explained.

By the time breakfast was over, my mother had a pretty fair idea of what had happened the previous night and pulled me aside into what turned out to be my study. After explaining the sight greeting me last night when I got to the bedroom and what happened next, she relaxed. “I didn’t realize Margaret and Gemma were so close or that Abby had joined them,” she said contemplatively.

“What are you thinking?” I asked when she didn’t go further and had a far-away look in her eyes.

“I was just thinking about my best friend when I was their age and wishing her husband was a Baron. That way he could have two wives,” she sighed.

“Why?” I asked densely.

She smiled indulgently as she answered. “The only unmarried men in town over the age of eighteen are drunk, lazy, or abusive. There are forty new widows, most with children, and nobody to help support them. This winter will be very hard on those families,” she sighed.

“I hadn’t even thought of that,” I admitted.

“You’ve been busy these last few weeks,” she consoled.

“But I’ve had a lot of time to think while we were riding and I never once thought about the welfare of the widows or their children,” I chided myself.

“Perhaps it’s a good thing I moved in with you,” she teased, hugging me. “I know how much Abby loves you and I know she has to be very happy this morning,” Mom said emotionally.

When she set about her chores, I set out to find the Bishop. He hemmed and hawed at my proposal, but in the end, greed and power won out. He would become the new Archbishop of York, presiding over the church in both Yorkshire and Lancashire. In return, he would allow an exception in the church’s views on marriage. Any widow with no acceptable suitor after sixty days could be married as the second wife (with the permission of the first wife) to any man of strong moral character who could provide for both wives and their children. Strong moral character would include not drinking to excess, being a hard worker and good provider, not being abusive, and naturally, attending church regularly.

In addition, other men could take my personal slaves as a second wife with my permission and the woman’s agreement. He would make the announcement this Sunday, after I appointed him the new Archbishop of York, a vastly better paying position than the one he currently held. I also “suggested” (ouch, twist his arm some more) that Bishops and other clergy should be allowed to take a widow or personal slave as a wife and reminded him that any widows who remarried and their children would no longer be the financial concern of the local parish since they would then have a husband to support them.

I stopped by to give my mother the good news after making her promise not to spread it beyond the friend she had spoken of, and the friend’s husband. I didn’t want to steal the new Archbishop’s thunder Sunday.

After getting over being shocked, she asked, “Are you going to be upset about me marrying again?”

“I made the arrangements, didn’t I?” I asked, grinning devilishly. “So, do I get to know who it is now?” I asked, very curious about who my mother would have as her partner when she was a girl.

“You’ll find out if and when her husband asks your permission to marry me,” she teased flirtatiously as she walked away.

My next stop was the dungeons to let Jeffrey’s wife out and to see if she had learned anything.

“As much fun as I had torturing and making you tell me everything you knew, a promise is a promise,” I told Alice, winking--after making sure nobody else could see. “The information you gave me was correct, so there will be no more torture, and your execution will be private and quick.” I winked again to let her know I didn’t mean it as she blanched at the pronouncement.

After the two guards took her from the cell, I said quietly to the captain of the guards (but loud enough so the remaining women could hear) “Use your knife to kill her before you leave the prison. Make sure she doesn’t see it coming and make it a clean kill. I promised she wouldn’t suffer.” The captain acknowledged the orders and hurried after the others.

Unbeknownst to the women in the cell, I had previously instructed the captain and two guards as to what I had planned. They were to ignore the instructions I gave them in the cell and were to take her immediately to what passed as my study in the dungeon. Once she had a chance to report her findings to me, she would be taken to a well-appointed room on the second floor of the Manor House where her children were being cared for by the staff, Margaret, and my future wives. A warm bath and a full meal were also awaiting her. I had reminded the guards to treat her respectfully.

“So many beautiful women to torture and so little time,” I bemoaned as I walked around the large cell full of shackled and otherwise restrained women. Most pulled away when I groped them, but many understood what the future held for them and hoped not to upset me, standing stoically as I ran my hands across their feminine curves. “I’ll be back in a little while to choose a few playmates,” I taunted as I left the cell.

Alice’s report was short and simple--only one of the women had supported the revolt--the senior Baroness Rolt--the same one I had watched being dragged kicking and screaming from her home. It also turns out she had been personally involved in the recruitment of the Barons Markham and Fineman, seducing them with her husband’s knowledge, and getting them to agree to join the rebellion. Alice warned me to keep the Baronesses Fineman and Markham away from the senior Baroness Rolt or there might be bloodshed.

I thanked her for what she’d done, telling her that she, personally, had probably saved the lives of many of the women and their children. Then I shooed her off to the Manor House for a happy reunion with her children, a luxurious warm bath, and sumptuous meal.

“Did you miss me?” I asked as seventy heads jerked up, eyes full of fear that I would choose them to be my next “toy.” When I approached them, three of the four I chose flinched and pulled back, to no avail.

“Go out into the corridor and turn right. Walk to the end of the corridor and enter the room with the open door. Take a seat and wait for me there. Of course, you could try to run. That would make the game much more fun when I get you back after my two hundred troops catch you and have their fun first,” I offered in a menacing voice. The senior Baroness Markham was visibly shaking as I unshackled her and let her walk from the cell. The younger Baroness Markham was visibly nervous, but managed to control it better than her co-wife did. My third victim, the junior Baroness Fineman, was one of the women who hadn’t tried to pull away when I had groped everyone earlier; she looked resigned to her fate as she walked out, shoulders slumped in acceptance.

“No, please,” the senior Baroness Fineman sobbed when I approached. Her legs refused to hold her, and I had to help support her all the way to my study where the other three women were waiting, standing nervously.

“Ladies, please be seated, and you may relax; I have mostly good news. You and your children are not going to be tortured or executed,” I started to explain as I poured a mug of mead for each of them. “The King has graciously offered a second and somewhat less drastic option to family members who were not involved in and not in agreement with the rebellion. He will allow them the choice of becoming my personal slaves.

“I want to let you know that I will hold every woman to her obligation to me, but only once a month so I can honestly tell the King that each woman is meeting her obligations as my slave. You saw how many women there were in the cell with you, and I am sure that a number of their daughters have reached womanhood. In addition, I will probably be responsible for a similar number from among the prisoners taken in Yorkshire. They will be sent here via ship in two weeks. With so many women as personal slaves, you can see why you would only need to be with me once a month. If it was up to me, I wouldn’t even require that, but I am obligated to follow the letter of the law.