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" viii."If that woman wants you to wear her collar all the time, allright, but this is what I want you to wear all the time!" ix.She didn't seem at all disappointed, at first. In fact, she justclimbed onto me and straddled me, her knees at my waist and herpussy just above my crotch, with my cock aimed stiff and straightat her slit, yearning. Then she lowered herself ever so slightly. A single bump and grind wiped a pearl of pre-cum off my tip andback and forth across the lips of her twat. Then with that samehalf-smile she began to rub her clit on my raging purple cockhead,in a teeny circular motion so light I could feel only her warmthand her moisture, and not even the slightest pressure. I tried tothrust up into her as best I could, but she rose and fell above melike a boat with a wave passing under its bow, never pausing as shediddled herself on my desperately extended cockhead. It was almostas if the rest of me. Such treatment was likewise past down through the non court hierarchy: Male, female, alt gender of either royalty or not, it mattered not. The sole exception were the ragtag horde of separatists perched upon the mouth of the cul-de-sac. "Jester, amuse us by having your way with this recalcitrant wench and her female lackey", barked the Chief. This was typical theater granted to the subjects of the 'hood: a public lashing of those found to break code. "Yes, my liege, as you wish", replied the bowing court clown with abject obsequiousness. He stepped back to deviously admire the two human props, wondering what novel act of debauchery to exact. Pointing to the floor, the jester signalled the victims to genuflect on the floor, to which they complied sheepishly. A wicked smile formed on the jester's mug as he approached the pathetic pair. Suddenly the Chief scowled and the jester seeing this froze in fear. "And since when hast thou declared your wretched self to be worthy of issuing.
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‘Thank you,’ she said, her voice a rustle of leaves in the wind. She rose to her feet, her shift appearing to clothe her again. She wandered around the room and touched once present furniture, watching him from the corner of her eyes. Donal’ watched her warily in return, not knowing what to do or say. She returned to stand in front of him, an imposing figure, her silvery eyes on a level with his, studying him. ‘That was as much of a surprise to me as it was to you,’ she said. ‘There was a desire, a…need I had.’ Her head cocked to one side. ‘Ye’r no afeared,’ she stated rather than asked. Donal’ thought for a moment before answering. He chose his words carefully, unwilling to upset the presence in front of him. ‘No, M’Lady, not afeared. A bit wary perhaps. If ye had wanted to harm me I reckon ye would ha’ done so by now.’ She regarded him for a few seconds and seemed to come to a decision. Her posture relaxed. ‘What is your name, bonnie lad?’ ‘Donal’ MacDonald.’ ‘Ah. You’re faither.

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