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Squire Adela is the property of SilenceDances on Literotica. If it is posted elsewhere, that is not okay. Go find it on literotica.com

AvatarIka edited chapter two, and TrigoDreamer edited chapter three and four. I thank them both from the bottom of my heart.

This is a story set in a fictional/medieval-esk world. There is a fair bit of plot, but I try to have a (m/f) sex scene every chapter. There instalment has a fair number of sex scenes, so if you don't like one of them, skip it, a different type will come along. One of my characters loves voyeurism, one loves BDSM, and another is a virgin. So there is hopefully something for everyone.

Please go read the first chapter before you read this.

Chapter Two

There was no other choice; Marcus was the only qualified Knight for the job. Wiping the sweat from her brow, Dame Golden finished her sparring session and sent a page for him. Golden cleaned up and found him waiting in her quarters.

"Marcus..." she began.

"Are you finally sending me out?" He asked, with obvious excitement.

Dame Golden glared at him, "Would you please refrain from interrupting?"

He at least managed to look apologetic, but promptly ruined it with a gleeful smile. "What will you have me do?"

"There is a delicate situation in a nearby village," Golden sighed out. "I need discretion. This will be just you and your Squire. However, if you deal with this in a quiet manner, there could be a reward from the King."

"What is the King's interest in this affair?" Marcus asked.

"I do not know," Golden said. "It would be best to ask as few questions as possible. I need you to stay safe."

Marcus nodded, and quietly gathered everything he would need. For the second time in as many days, Sir Hardwick could not find his Squire when he needed her. The stalls were clean, and the horses cared for. Somehow, Adela had finished her long, impossible list of tasks.

Yet, Adela was nowhere to be found. As Marcus searched the stables, the heat began to bother him. With a growing desire to escape the hot stickiness of the stables, he realized the lake is where he would have gone.

When Marcus arrived at the lake, he spied a delicious sight: Adela completely nude, on her hands and knees, rutting with a handsome man. It was animalistic and rushed.

He found himself enjoying the sight of his Squire giving in to lust. Her body was supple, and she could take the pounding the strong stranger was giving her. Marcus imagined himself in place of the stranger.

"There is no way I can interrupt that," he rationalized to himself, settling in for a show.

When the man finished, Sir Hardwick had to resist the urge to clap. Yet, as the man carried Adela into the lake almost

lovingly,

it gave Marcus pause. "

Mine

," part of him thought, although the rest of his mind tried to shut it out.

Leaving Adela in the lake, the man dressed. It was only when he was leaving that Marcus saw his face. "Lynn!" Marcus thought with surprise. Lynn drew his fingers across his lips--the sign for silence--as he walked away, smiling.

Once the shock wore off, Hardwick stepped out of the shadows to retrieve his Squire. It was simple to mask his lust with his overwhelming anger.

"Adela," Marcus growled out. "We have work to do."

Adela jumped, and scrambled to gather her clothing. Marcus gazed at her naked body, trying to disguise his desire with a look of disdain.

"I hope you used protection," Marcus said with scorn.

"I always wear my charm," Adela replied, pulling on her tunic. "Not that it is any of your business. Why are you being so insufferable today?"

"There has been an... incident," he replied, "and I need to be able to find you at all times."

"Is anyone hurt?" she asked, concerned.

"Bardol is unharmed," Sir Hardwick answered. "A village was destroyed. Seven dead, and the survivors have disappeared. The priests and gravediggers are there now."

"When do we depart?" Adela asked.

"First light," Sir Marcus replied, and Adela noticed the sun had sunk low in the sky. She noted, with some surprise, how much time had passed since Lynn first kissed her.

***

That night, Adela heard Marcus bedding yet another woman. Sound carried easily from his room to hers, so she could help defend him if the need arose. Tonight, his partner was noisy.

"Marcus," the woman moaned. "Please, I need this."

Unsure what "this" was, Adela's active imagination supplied a scene. The woman could be tied to the bed, and begging him to take her. Or maybe he brought her to the brink of pleasure, and would not let her achieve it. Adela knew Marcus had done both in the past. Curiosity piqued, Adela snuck out of bed.

For the past year, she had been sneaking in to watch him. Marcus showed a different side of his sexuality to each partner. He had tried everything one could think of. Adela had attempted some of them with partners of her own, but it never seemed the same. Somehow-- late at night, with the candle light, and stolen peeks--these were the most magical moments Adela knew.

Tonight, Marcus had a phallus strapped to a foot stool. Adela recognized the woman as Dame Tilda Hue but did not recognize the wanton expression on her face. Tilda stared at Marcus's crotch, with wild abandon.

"Please," she begged. "I need to taste you."

"You know the rules," Marcus said. "Tilda, you need to take the entire phallus first."

Dame Hue was halfway down the wooden instrument; Adela could clearly see her juices coating the phallus. Marcus played with Tilda's breasts, lightly drawing circles around the areola, and then roughly pinching her large nipples.

Yet again, Adela marveled at how varied Marcus's sexuality was. With one partner, he would command, and with another be gentle.

Adela's fingers found her own ready labia, and she bit her lips to stay silent. Tilda finally took the rest of the phallus into her and quickly reached for Marcus's cock. She took it in her hands and lead the member to her trembling lips.

Adela slipped a finger inside of herself, as Tilda slid Marcus's cock into her needy mouth. She did not court or tease his desire, Tilda simply slid him all the way down her ready throat. Adela was impressed, having tried this with other partners, and failed.

"What, no artistry or worship?" Marcus asked, bemused. Tilda responded by doing something Adela could not see, and Marcus moaned. She then started to ride the phallus, in time with her mouth's ministrations.

With expert fingers, Adela soon found herself on the edge, but she refrained, wanting to enjoy this to the end.

Tilda gulped down his pleasure and seemed greedy for more. Marcus relaxed into her ministrations, letting his guard down. Adela never tired of his expressions of pleasure. She could tell the exact moment he reached the point of no return, and watched with desire as Tilda drank his seed.

Marcus lifted Tilda off of the phallus, and onto his bed. "It is time for your reward, pet," he said, stroking her gently. Marcus took a charm off of his bedstand and slipped it into Tilda. He said a simple incantation and Tilda was instantly writhing. Adela had seen him do this before and wished she knew what the charm was. She had searched his rooms looking for it, to no avail.

Marcus whispered to Tilda, but Adela could imagine what he said. "You are on the edge of orgasm, but will be unable to cum until I release myself inside your cunt." Tilda moaned, and begged him to take her. Marcus swiftly buried himself inside of her and started roughly fucking her. Adela watched his face, and when she saw him starting to cum, she allowed herself to reach her peak. She bit down on her fist to keep from crying out. A wave of delight washed over her, as she saw Tilda and Marcus coming.

***

Adela awoke even earlier than usual; no hint of morning touched the sky. The birds were not singing. She had packed their traveling bags last night and needed to ready the horses.

They packed as lightly as possible, just the essentials to care for themselves and their horses. Charmed gear helped, but witch's powers were limited. Most witches could only improve objects, such as horseshoes, and other necessary items.

Horses ready, Adela and Sir Hardwick left at the first hint of dawn. Their armor and swords soaked in the chill of the morning twilight. Their tough mounts were hardy, however, and easily carried them to the village before the sun had time to even warm their armor.

The town's gathering place still had the bloody scrawl "JUSTICE," but the bodies were already buried.

"There is nothing here," Hardwick sighed. "All the evidence is erased. Only a witch could find anything in this... cleanliness."

"There is a witch in Bardol," Adela said.

"Not one that would help me," Marcus countered.

"What about the priests?" she asked. "It is said that their powers are just another branch of witchery. Except, instead of affecting real objects, they affect real concepts."

"What does that even mean?" he retorted.

"It means that priests can charm symbols to act as though they are the things they represent," Adela explained. "Otherwise known as blessings." Marcus gave her a look. "I enjoy reading heretical texts," she shrugged. "If I cannot achieve Knighthood, I will devote myself to religion."

"Really?" Marcus jibed. "To whom? the God of sarcasm?"

"Probably to the Goddess of war," Adela answered.

"That would be... extreme," Marcus soberly said. "Enough joking, we need to find the priest."

They found the priests doing a cleansing ritual on the burial ground. They wrote sacred characters in the dirt over the bodies, and a holy sapling sprouted.

"We are here on behalf of the castle Bardol," Sir Hardwick declared. "Official business."

"Ah yes, the murders," the priest sighed. "They do not bode well. Interesting results from the rites, though."

"What were the results?" Marcus asked.

"Nothing happened," the priest replied. "Someone scrubbed the essence clean. People leave traces of their essence everywhere they go. Most places are caked with it. There was no trace of

any

essence here."

"I did not know that was possible," Adela murmured.

"Nor did I," the priest said. "I have only heard stories--but it is impossible..." he trailed off, then remembered himself. "We were only able to discern a direction. It is as though they could not turn off the cleansing powers: the scrubbing continued after they left the village. The woods are cleansed to the Northwest. No trace of essence whatsoever, not even from animals."

"Is there a way to follow the trail?" Marcus asked.

"Once you leave the cleansed areas," the priest replied. "It feels... dirtier?"

"Thank you," Marcus replied dryly, trying to hide his sarcasm. "Adela, we should depart, and 'feel' our way."

"Thank you," Adela earnestly said to the priest as they rode off.

The woods were heady with the scent of mulch and rain. The noises were peaceful, and the purified land felt both ancient and brand new. Marcus floated in a sense of complete well-being. Suddenly, they felt a shift. The air around them felt heavy and gross. They trotted back, to the obviously cleansed forest, and enjoyed immediate relief.

"Now we know the priest did not lie," Marcus stated.

"Why would a priest lie?" Adela asked, puzzled.

Marcus stayed silent. They traveled until dusk, then set up camp.

After supper, the firelight played against Marcus's beautiful face. Adela sighed. Her lay with Lynn was supposed to relieve tension, but that had changed when Marcus had discovered her. He had given her body a look of pure lust, and anger. The memory made her dizzy with desire, but now he would not look her in the eyes.

"Adela," Marcus said suddenly, startling her out of her reverie. "What do you know about Lynn?"

"Not much," Adela said. "He helped me today. Why?"

"He and I have a history," Marcus said. Adela looked at him, questions in her eyes. "His wife fell in love with me. Her name was Rose."

"I thought you did not sleep with married women."

"After her," Marcus said, "I stopped."

"What happened?" Adela asked, feeling queasy.

"Lynn found out about the affair when she died giving birth to a baby. The child had none of his essence, and lived scarcely longer than Rose."

"Did you love her?" Adela whispered.

"Yes. We were going to run away together."

Adela could not think of a proper response.

***

The next morning, the ride was yet again quiet, as they stayed in their own thoughts. It was unsettling; Adela was used to their banter.

Suddenly Adela asked, "Are you ignoring me because you saw me nude?"

Marcus looked like a deer cornered by a hound, "Why would I?" he squeaked out, then tried again. "Why would I care about your naked body?" Marcus tried to look uninterested while growing aroused by the memory.

"Because you love naked women," Adela scoffed back.

"I do not see you as a woman," Marcus said.

Relief, disappointment, and then disbelief swirled in her mind. There was just one safe answer. Adela smiled, "I must be the only woman safe from your desire."

"That is not true! I have not lain with even a third of the women in Bardol."

Adela scoffed and muttered under her breath.

"What was that?" Marcus asked, indignant. However, he never found out. It was then they were attacked.

Thrown from her horse, Adela curled into a ball. She hit the ground hard. It took a moment for Adela to get her breath back. When she stood, Marcus was gone.

Chapter Three

Barely able to breathe, Adela rode hard back to the village. The priest was gone. The town empty, save for a draget; a small, less intelligent, cousin of Dragons. The draget had a pack between its wings, and the king's insignia was embroidered on the sturdy fabric. Adela slipped a note into the pack, then collapsed into her bedroll in one of the most intact homes. Adela spent the night in shock. The next morning, Clarell arrived.

Clarell landed in the middle of the village, and started talking before she had fully shifted into a human. "What happened?" Clarell asked, as soon as she had vocal cords.

"One moment he was there, the next he was gone," Adela said, exhausted. "Yet, it did not feel like magic."

Clarell scoffed, "What else could it be?"

"Old religion," Adela suggested.

"Pray it is not that. The god that demand human sacrifice was locked away centuries ago," Clarell said.

"I know," Adela said. "And I hope I am wrong."

"

If

that is what we are dealing with," Clarell said, "we would need to prepare. It would be weeks or months before we could attempt to rescue Marcus."

Adela stood outraged. "We cannot wait that long."

Clarell nodded, and winked. "It would be wise to gather evidence before making wild accusations. Sir Lynn Rithe is on his way to join us, and will be here by nighttime. We ride tomorrow."

Adela looked up with relief and apprehension. "I have heard there is tension between Sir Hardwick and--"

"You heard wrong," Clarell interrupted, her eyes turning even more reptilian. "Now, we need to focus on getting you healed."

They spent the day healing Adela and the horse. It was evening when Lynn arrived with a few of his Squires.

"Clarell," Sir Rithe said as soon as he arrived. "Report."

"Sir Hardwick was taken or killed by an unknown," Clarell said. "We will gather information, and rescue him if given the opportunity."

Lynn nodded, then efficiently set to organizing a camp for the night. He did not so much as glance at Adela. Her rage built with the passing hours. It was after dark when she finally cornered him. Adela took him into the woods to talk.

"Why did you let me think you were a servant?" Adela hissed at Lynn.

"I saw the way Marcus was treating you," he said. "You needed help, and would have refused a Knight."

"Did you bed me to hurt Marcus?" She asked, eyes tearing up.

"Unlike some people," Lynn said. "I only bed people I truly desire. Adela, you are strong, funny, and beautiful. I noticed you practicing before dawn, and before I knew who you were, I wanted you. The way you move your body, you are a talented soldier. Your body moves with grace and strength..." Lynn trailed off with a lustful look.

"Then why ignore me today?" Adela asked. She towered over him in her rage, clutching to anger so she would not give into lust.

Lynn looked sheepish, "I was being a Knight. With you, I was able to be just a man. In front of my Squires, I need to be a Knight."

"You have too many answers," Adela huffed and turned to leave. She wanted to be angry, but his explanations, and lust filled looks were melting her resolve.

"Wait," Lynn said, vulnerable. He pulled her back to him, and Adela stared into his eyes. She could not explain what she saw. His very essence seemed to bare. Lynn's lips trembled, and she remembered how they had tasted. She could feel each breath he took, and imperceptibly, she leaned towards him.

This kiss seemed long in coming, and as though it would never end. Their hearts were raw. Unable to have the ones they loved, having the ones they lusted for was, almost, a consolation. Their desires took them by force. Lynn quickly stripped Adela of her many layers. Her chainmail slithered to the forest floor, followed by her underclothes.

Nude in the moonlight, their beauty was surreal. Adela's breath caught, and they stood there, admiring each other's raw sexuality. Lynn's chiseled body showed how much of a man he was. His desire was on full display, and Adela wanted all of it. She found herself growing wet in anticipation.

"You look like a godess of war," Lynn whispered reverently. His fingers traced her skin, trailing her bruises, making her nipples stiffen in the evening chill. "Under your armor you have hard muscles, but also beautiful curves. I want to taste every inch of you."

Adela moaned impatiently, "I want to have you now. Please, just take me."

Lynn smirked, and knelt in the soft dirt. He grasped her thighs in his powerful hands. He brought his mouth to her core, and paused to look her in the eyes. "Let me pleasure you," he said, and gently began his ministrations.

Lynn's skilled fingers and tongue were unlike the skill-less boys she had lain with before. Lynn could feel her thighs quiver as she struggled to stay standing. He used his strength to pull her down to the ground, and continued with renewed vigor. She felt waves building as his mouth toyed with her. When Lynn slipped his fingers into her core, Adela tried to move away; it was more pleasure than she could handle. Yet, she took everything he gave, and on the other side, there was unbelievable release. Adela shook, and Lynn moved her from his mouth. He placed her thighs on his, and slipped his hard desire into her. The feeling of his body against hers felt almost like love. Endorphins flooded them both, and when Lynn came, it was as though they were joined. They trembled with the power of it all.

***

The world felt raw and awful. Marcus's head was pounding. He could see little of the world around him, but felt rough twine binding his hands and legs.

"What were you doing?" said a feminine voice.

"I was out for a stroll," Marcus replied. The voice deigned no answer. She ripped off a strip of his tunic, and use it to gag him. He was left to stew in his discomfort.

He could smell a campfire, and food cooking. Marcus did not know when he last ate. Hours seemed to pass before she returned.

"Are you willing to talk now?" The woman asked Marcus, taking off his simple gag.

"Some food would not be remiss," Marcus said. The woman sighed, and came back with some berries. She proceeded to drop a few into his mouth at a time, too nervous to untie him. It was not long before she stopped feeding him, and the scant handful had only served to wake his appetite.