Once a Ing

Once a King

Part 23 : In the Household of Amelia and Andrea

Skryba, to say my heart was not racing would be a lie. I left the House of the Sisters by the light of the rising Moon. The light of the Goddess lit my Way. It was the Time of Fertility and after sunset, the men of Bagnisko were confined to their barracks. Only in daylight, did they visit the Women.

Only the King was abroad at night. The King was not a man, but the King. The repetition of this dogma impressed on me at least the reality of Pawel as the prize stud of Bagnisko.

A prime stud by breeding and the Grace of the Goddess, the man, Pawel, had precious little experience with women, and those women were of the Coicie of the People, who controlled his arousal—and I was slow to understand, but now did, to their own pleasure.

With these conflicts raging inside me, I needed the calm and the confidence of the King I was, but did not feel I was. This changed, as I found Lena on the King's Way. Her eyes saw through me into my fear and uncertainty. Her task was to prepare the Women of this night for me and also to prepare me for them.

But first, she saw a greater task. Her eyes locked with mine, as she stretched out her arms. Automatically, I reached out to her, with no thought behind it. As our fingertips touched...we, as individuals, disappeared—there was the magical Pawel/Lena, the Man/Woman...one body, one spirit, one mind.

She knew all of me. I knew all of her—her passion for the women, for their welfare; her understanding of their problems and their fears. I saw her as fearful and unsure of her magic. A gift, she had not pursued but that owned her, gave her a responsibility to all of Bagnisko. How it was too much to bear, so she often lost herself in the overindulgence of the samahon. Pleasured herself because she loved neither man nor woman; desired both, but could not love either.

She saw in me, one just out of boyhood, young by the standards of Bagnisko, and yet—her King, her prized stud. This 'Prize Stud' went tonight to his first Mares. Who were they?

Instantly, this question was answered from within the Lena/Pawel mind.

Amelia was the 'junior partner' of the Bonded Pair. 'Twas ever thus with the Bagnisko—an older, more experienced woman picked a young girl, just as she reached womanhood, to mentor. When the young woman reached maturity—eighteen years with the Bagnisko—she could choose to be bonded with her mentor.

By now, Amelia was twenty, having been bonded to Andrea for almost two years. She looked much younger, and I saw that in my melding with Lena...I was reassured that she was, indeed, twenty.

Andrea was forty, still of child-bearing age, but had never carried a child to term. All her pregnancies had ended early in the womb, or soon after birth. Amelia gave her great joy, the joy of youth and optimism. She, herself, was of a melancholy turn of mind.

Amelia had one season of breeding with Bagnisko males; her experience was better than most. The men that came to her, were as young and inexperienced as she was; they were shy, and differential. Most Bagnisko males held the Women of Bagnsko in awe...having little to do with females after puberty. Puberty for Bagnisko males was odd, by the standards of the rest of the world.

The males' bodies developed as elsewhere, testicles descended, the penis grew and pubic hair appeared. There were no spontaneous erections, no nocturnal emissions, no erotic dreams, and no masturbation.

Only in season, the Season the Time of Fertility, did the male Bagnisko experience any desire for sexual satisfaction. To most of them, it was perplexing; to some, frightening. The young men Amelia had been with, were 'nice boys' as mothers in other cultures might describe. Polite and ignorant, they bedded Amelia, both enjoying some degree of pleasure. Andrea, the senior partner, was there as prescribed, but dozing in a chair in the corner of the room. She had no worries with Amelia with these 'good boys'.

There was pleasure, even fond memories of the awkward, shy attentive boys trying to be men. She laughed, they smiled, there was touching, exploring...and both were surprised by ecstasy, but no babies.

But what of Andrea, Pawel, within/with Lena asked? Their mind answered—Andrea is filled with pain, the kind of pain that builds a barrier. We could not pass that barrier except by resorting to the melding of minds and bodies that Pawel/Lena do. That is only possible with magicians, and it is dangerous even then.

At that moment, they were there...before the threshold of the household was approached, before the challenge was issued from the house, the Lena/Pawel parted...Lena was gone...where, how, Pawel did not know...he stood alone, a meter from the solid wood door. A lantern burned on the doorstep, a luxury of light for the King.

A spy hole was opened in the middle of the door and presently the prescribed challenge was issued, "What Man wishes to enter this house?"

The King gave the ritual answer, "No Man, but the King."

At that, the King heard the bar securing the door removed, as the door swung wide on well-greased hinges.

"Enter, King."

The King stepped into the warm room, lit only by the blaze in the hearth. In the firelight, he could see the Bonded Pair—Amelia, young, shy, eager, hopeful; Andrea, taller, stronger, weary, smiling benignly, in support of her partner.

It was Andrea who intoned the rest; indeed, the last of the ritual-prescribed words to be said this night.

"Remove your holy cincture, so that your seed may flow into us and make the children the Moon wishes us to bear."

The King slowly untied the triple knotted cincture, only then realizing he knew not what to do with it. Andrea saved him from discomfort, by extending both hands to receive it.

She kissed the weighted ends of the cincture...the King had missed this detail of his vestry—the cincture's ends were knotted around a carved bit of amber, the left side was the image of an erect penis, the foreskin pulled completely back; the right side, the sacred seed gate, its lips open to reveal the path the seed of the King must take to the womb.

She stretched the cincture as far as the span of her arms, and lifted it high above her head.

The ritual continued in ways only these women knew. This was the way of THIS household.

The lifting of the cincture above Andrea's head, was the sign that the breeding was to begin. This was not courtship, not the love between partners or partners to be, but a ritualistic act of mating.

Both women were robed in a pure-white wool gown...tied at the neck, but loose fitting, simply hanging from the shoulders with wide sleeves that covered the hands. Andrea's lifting of the cincture above her head, exposed her arms as the loose fitting garment slid down her arms to her shoulders.

She was well muscled, and her arms were slightly scarred from hard outdoor work, the short-sleeved garment she wore in the warm months, had left her arms bare to be tanned a warm brown, a color just starting to fade as the cold weather was upon the land.

Neither the King nor Amelia had moved, or said a word, in response to the raising of the cincture. Andrea glanced at Amelia, who nodded in response. At that signal, Amelia undid the ties at her throat, and let the loose-fitting gown fall from her shoulders to the floor. She stood, looking embarrassed in the firelight, and then with a change of mood coming across her; she had determined to do her duty. She retrieved her gown from the floor, carefully folded it, and placed it by the fireside. As she turned, the King was treated to the full view of her nakedness. Pale indoor skin; tight, rounded buttocks; slim legs; a flat, tight, hollow belly; arms firm from housework, but not heavily muscled; and budding, almost-prepubescent breasts. This was one aspect that cautioned the King about her age; had he been deceived? was this one too young?

As she turned to face the King, she lifted her chin high and gave the King a look of acceptance, even hunger. The King caught sight of her mound of Venus, thickly covered in a dark tangle of curly brown hair.

At that moment, knowing he faced a woman not a girl, his body responded; his arousal was instant and apparent to all in the room.

The tenting of his tunic was viewed with an arched eyebrow by Andrea, and a smile of triumph by Amelia.

"King," Andrea spoke...maybe more loudly than she intended and corrected herself, "My King, it is my duty to disrobe you for the performance of your duties to Bagnisko, to my companion, Amelia."

My only response was to nod.

Andrea knelt in the firelight, and removed my elegant shoes, placing them carefully on an area near but not too close to the fire.

She reached under the tunic to unfasten the garters, her fingers betraying her for only an instant, the nervousness in touching the person of the King.

The hose were swiftly and gently removed, folded on a stool near the fire, so they would be warm when the King was to be ritually robed at the end of the mating.

I lifted my arms to assist in the removal of the tunic. Andrea was taller than the King, and this was no effort for her. My erection brushed against her gown, as she removed the tunic and stepped back, out of respect rather than any other emotion.

I was surprised when she then removed her own gown. But not before she tied the King's cincture around Amelia's narrow waist.

She carefully arranged the ends of the cincture so that the weighted ends hung between Amelia's legs.

Her own body was in stark contrast of Amelia's. Taller, and coarser featured; her skin was not smooth; her knees were scarred and knobby; her belly rounded and sagging; her breasts still firm, she had never nursed but were huge compared to Amelia's.

She knelt before Amelia to prepare her. I understood this was done by many but not all bonded partners. There was little foreplay in Bagnsiko, lovemaking and the women were used to each other, but rarely prepared for the entry into their bodies of a strange male.

Andrea caressed Amelia in ways that they were habituated to.

In a few minutes, Amelia's eyes closed in rapture and Andrea turned and addressed the King, "She is ready, Lord."

I followed the well-prepared Amelia to cushions that had been placed on the floor. She lay on her back, holding her legs wide open. I knelt between her legs and entered her easily.

It had been so long since I had experienced such bliss, that I feared I would disgrace the myth of the Kingship of Bagnisko.

Andrea whispered to me, "King, she has received her pleasure from me, you have no responsibility to her, but to place your seed in her."

Still, I could tell I was aware enough of the ways of women, that Amelia was pleased that I had entered her.

I was slow, I was patient; indeed, I was methodical.

Amelia's reaction was first surprise, and then involvement. Far from being the passive 'mare', she moved to meet my thrusts, her movements became one and in harmony, it was as in a dance, except sometimes I led and other times she took up that duty.

Andrea seemed perplexed, but soon happy for the pleasure her beloved was experiencing...She pleasured herself, as she watched us, hovering close by, even offering her large breasts for me to suckle.

As the first log burned down and collapsed into the hearth, we all three experienced completion. And at least one Bagnisko 'Mare' had been bred. The King had done his duty; this night. A season of nights was yet to come.

(Many thanks to my editor Kenji Sato. The adventures of Pawel, Once a King will continue.)

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