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The Lady’s Knight – Part 3

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The Lady s Knight – Part 3

Note to MH Editors and Staff: I have included a URL for a photo that connect to the visual theme of the story. As always, select whatever you feel is best!

This is a continuation of the fictional series about Victor and Bella. As the former two sections were, this one is equivalent in size to other stories I have submitted, which I used as maximum length restrictions to make sure it follows guidelines. Hopefully it is good!

Joyfully in Christ,

Sophia

Hello, everyone! I am so happy to continue the series. If you have not, I would please suggest reading as it offers necessary background on the characters and the setting for the scenes which take place in this portion. I hope you enjoy reading!

Victor had soon cleansed himself, donning a simple pair of trousers and nothing more. The smell of woods and oils had hopefully washed away the pangs and sufferings of his journey away from home—hopefully the dirt as well. Though he was not in his most gentlemanly of conditions, Isabella had helped him and showed no aversion towards him.

Bella, Victor thought of his wife. I can almost smell her chicken dinner from here. Not to mention her hair—it smelled lovely, like the smell of fresh rose. His thoughts alternated between the delicious meal he was to have, and the dessert which would be prepared in their private chambers for him.

My lord, your meal is served! Isabella cheerfully but calmly welcomed her husband to the table. Victor sat down, with Isabella standing to his side, aligning his plate, and adding more vegetables to the side of a sizable portion of chicken.

Bella, are you not going to sit by me to eat? Must we do this again? Victor asked with a slight smile.

My lord, I am your wife. I will eat once my husband has rid himself of his temporary hunger.

Victor sighed, looked at his food, and looked back at Isabella.

My dear, the first Corinthians, 26th of the 12th, what does it proclaim?

Isabella was well versed in her studies of the Bible, for she held the Lord in deep love—above all material things, above all people, including Victor. One such reason Victor was so sure of marrying her, for she would stray from all worldly things before she even so much as entertained the thought of straying from the Father.

I read often, and yet I am not able to recall from memory immediately, Sir

Quite alright, my love. It states, that if one portion suffers, all portions suffer with it; equally so, if one rejoices, all do. Such is the equanimous nature of our faith; we remain open to all that is given to us by the Lord, we understand it, share it and empathize with others, yes?

Yes, my lord, Isabella whispered, understanding her husband s wishes.

Then enough of this, Bella. Sit, my dear. Whatever hunger you believe me to have, will only be satiated if yours is as well.

Isabella smiled to herself, and sat beside her husband.

I expect this from now on, no more of this waiting humbug, yes? All hungers of mine, are yours as well to quench. If I deem it so, for disciplinary purposes, I will suggest otherwise.

He placed particular emphasis upon the word hungers, subtly lowering his tone. Isabella understood. She was anxiously awaiting for the moment when he would cross the line to claim her.

Following their gratitude to the Lord, and thanks for the Grace bestowed upon Victor s stomach whilst on his journeys, they begun to eat. Victor immediately gripped the large portion of chicken on his plate, and began biting into it. Isabella had to contain herself, nearly giggling at the excitement and joy of her husband.

Do eat patiently, my lord. We welcome each bite as the Lord s blessing, and without patience we cannot do so!

The meal was lovely, as was anything gifted by the Lord, and prepared by Isabella s hands. Victor enjoyed the flavourful chicken, the wonderfully buttery vegetables, and a soup which was akin to velvet. Isabella smiled contently, as she demurely ate her meal. She adored pleasing her husband, in all ways that were given to her as duty. Duty to her was not the mere mechanical doing for a reward. Duty was a selfless service. She lost herself in him, as he did in her.

At this time, she began to lose herself in the sight of his body. He was wearing nothing on his upper body, which exposed his fresh, masculine, and hairy chest to her sight. It was a glorious sight. She wished to lay her head upon his shoulder or chest, wrapped in his arms, protected by the warmth of his hearth of a heart. She caught his eyes, and smiled innocently, so as not to reveal her feminine desires of being held by her husband in all respects.

As they finished their dinner, Isabella stood and cleaned all of the plates. The sun was just beginning to disappear behind far-off clouds on the horizon, so she hurriedly cleaned the vessels which remained as her husband tidied the table and spaces of the cottage. He had a particular way of organizing. Objects must be placed in a designated location. If she placed something improperly, she would receive an earful of a lecture about the importance of discipline and consistency.

Soon enough, Isabella finished her work, and slowly walked to the arched doorway to the married couple s chambers. She looked over her shoulder, to see that her husband was looking intently at her. His gaze was sharp, focused, and comprised of sheer will—a will to conquer.

She closed her eyes and, for but a moment, could feel each of his eyes as they caressed her form through her clothes. My dress covers every inch of me but the higher flesh of my back and the lowest of my legs yet he sees all.

A shiver traveled through her body, an erotic chill which begin to kindle a soft flame in her nether regions. Her flustered face grew red with anxious desire to be his. She lowered her gaze slowly, and continued walking into the chambers. She took hold of the folding cover, which she used to hide her form as she changed her clothing.

Victor watched her disappear behind it, and begun to ponder what sort of evening they would have. The young lady who could not meet his gaze on their first evening together, now submitted to be his object of delight. Her reserved coyness was alluring.

A span of time that felt to be an eternity elapsed before he heard the soft creak of her folding shade as it was moved away. He slowly moved to the archway, to see his wife seated upon the bed. Her hair was spread out, and lay delicately over her shoulders. She held her gaze softly at her feet, where her anklets still chimed quietly to themselves. Upon hearing her husband, she immediately rose, and walked to where he stood.

Victor, on the other hand, was absolutely gob-smacked. He was focused on the lovely attire she was wearing, and the portions it showed ever so slightly of her figure. It was a large stretch of fabric, tied about her form, tightly covering her breasts, and looped about so as to form a belt around her waist. In what seemed like one piece of fabric, she had covered all but a bit of her soft waist, one shoulder and her back, but a pinch of collarbone, and the lowest reaches of her legs.

Victor circled Isabella, studying her form and attire. She giggled softly, nervous that her husband was examining her so much. She almost felt as if she should cover what he would see of her body, but part of her wished to let him see it, touch it, and consume it for his own desires.

The many mornings spent on the washing stone, crying about being alone, separated from the man to whom she promised all of herself—this would soon be resolved.

My, my Bella, what is this?

A fine fabric of silk, my lord. You had gifted it to me before you left for your first journey of several days. I was unsure how to use it, but upon kind instruction from some elder women, I learned. It was oh, Sir, please do not look at me! She covered her face, red with blossoming desire and embarrassment.

Victor s memory was shaken to clarity. He had gifted to her the silk of lands in the Far East, where lovely maidens weaved large swaths of it. But to see the shiny emerald green upon his bride was a unique gift—as it matched the wonderful hue of her eyes.

Victor, from behind her, lunged like a beast upon its prey, ready to devour. His one arm encircled her lower neck and bosom, whilst anther found its way down towards her waist, his fingers prancing across her tummy. She gasped, her eyes fluttering and her hands went to hold onto his.

My sweet! she gasped and moaned.

There is my girl, Bella. His voice growled deep into her ear.

Isabella could only use her sense of touch, as she felt that her body was out of her control. Her body was his to use as he saw fit. She adored the feeling, knowing that even if she felt helpless in this night s cloud of mystery, the only guarantee was that she would safe in his arms.

As hips swung to and fro, she felt her own body move with him. Her womanhood was following and chasing the rising fire of his loins.

Impatient, impatient, Bella. But, the night is young.

Isabella was keen to submit to her husband s words—especially in their chambers—but a part of her was this youthful maiden of playful nature.

And what if I do not want to? What then?

Victor halted his passionate grabbing of her hips and, just as his fingers were about to go underneath the silk to find her silky folds, it was raised to her face, tilting her eyes to his.

Bella, I would never touch you if you never wished it. You are here to bring glory to God, and to harm a follower of the Lord is to harm truth entire.

Just as his sweet words strung the harp within her aching heart, the sight of her eyes and face was a wonderful ambrosia to his. He drank in the nectar of her soft lips and supple skin, her bright green eyes and the wondrous curtains which rose above them, the bit of hair which was wavy in nature and always hung from her right temple.

Soon enough, Victor broke their mutual trance: But we both know that you are not going to wish against this are you?

His voice caused a tremor in her body, travelling down her spine and into the ripe and wettened cave of her womanhood.

No, sir.

Her body was prepared to be claimed—her gardens were prepared to be seeded with the beautiful fruit of rejuvenating life.

Good, Bella, very good.

Victor let his fingers dip into the rim of her labia, softly touching her as she moans grew in intensity. His index finger concentrated on one portion, whilst the furthest reach of the same hand tantalizingly played with the courtyard to the garden. He tilted her chin towards his face, and watched as her eyes were fluttering, her nose twitching and her lips quivering for a union with his.

Yes, please . oh, touch me, please, please sir

Her words were ambrosia for his weary heart, like a herb which healed his scars and wounds. Isabella was but moments from singing the song of womanly pleasure, when he pressed his lips against hers.

She mouthed sir, into his lips again. She loved to address him so formally, as if he had a decree given unto him to claim her whence he returned from his travels. He waged war upon her lips and mouth, probing and nonverbally requesting that she acquiesce to his control.

He did not need to ask. As his lips touched hers, and his hand moved away more swiftly across her lovely pearl and the folds of her womanhood, she reached the peak of orgasm. As she begun exclaiming, he dove into the curve of her neck where there was a conveniently placed birthmark. It was small, a prominent red to compliment her rosy skin, and nearly in the shape of a teardrop. Perfectly placed for his lips, as he started to devour her.

YES, YES, OH YES! Isabella interjected each word with her moaning and exclamation. She was audibly gasping and creating the most delectable noises, as Victor reveled in relishing his wanton woman.

Oh, my lord! Take me, I beg, my lord, take this woman!

Her voice was nearly that of a whine, a sign of extreme desperation. His digits were vibrating at an alarming rate across her lovely bud below, and his fingers were on the precipice of her womanly cave. Treasures lay within—oh, if only he would place his most wonderful organ into her with haste!

Victor loosened his grip on her body, and just as her knees began to wobble, he picked her up in his arms. She shook slightly, partially from what had happened thus far and partially from what she knew was about to occur.

My lord, you torture me with waiting, Isabella whined, a bit on purpose. Her lips formed into a slight smile as her eyes dared to dart from Victor s chest up to his face, which were focused straight upon the bed.

Victor had no tolerance for rudeness, or complacency in his home. He followed an austere code of conduct, and expected that of his wife. Isabella was always happy to follow, but on the occasions that she would (at times) be more playful, she knew she would be played with just the same. Both her and Victor enjoyed this, and she found that from the very first day this happened forward, it was a lovely bonding experience.

She was placed softly on the bed, the linens tickling her legs as the silk around her came increasingly unwrapped.

Victor sat on the bed, his legs placed firmly upon the ground. He did not even look in her direction, only saying, Lie down, now.

Isabella s lady-garden was becoming more of a churning river, hearing those words from her beloved s lips. She slowly crawled to him, laying across his thighs, her bum showing for him. The fingers on her hands could count the few times she been in this same position. Yet she wished it was much more, knowing what was to come—both from her, and him.

She felt his hands wrap around the silk, slowly unwrapping her lower body. It was a vulnerable position wherein she felt exposed to the slight chill in the air. The skin on her bum was taut about her round form, almost smiling in nature towards Victor. He softly grazed his hand over it, moving up to briefly massage her lower back. She knew this technique: he would relax her into a slumber of sorts, where she would least expect it when he would—

Oh, dear! Isabella gasped as her hair was softly, yet quickly, grabbed and pulled firmly, forcing her to bend her back. Her hair was extremely sensitive, and she took care to keep it clean and healthy. The long, flowing locks were a contrast to his own, which were kept in a tied bun on his head.

Victor was aware how special a lady s hair is to her, so he would never damage it. Instead, he would use it to incite an excitement in Isabella. He smiled at her sudden exclaimed moan.

It reminded him of when he had once helped braid her hair for her. He remembered massaging her head, and accidentally pulling on her hair. This had elicited a slight noise of pleasure that was ecstatic to hear. He took mental note, and he would surely use it again on the battlefield.

Isabella felt her husband s fingers near her garden, stroking her skin as he did. His hand opened the slit, and he inserted one finger into her. Quickly? No, not at all. It was slow, and excruciating.

So impatient, my dear Bella, so impatient, Victor said as his finger came out, then in again. Out, then in.

It was torture. Her eyes rolled slowly under closed lids as she thought of what delicious things he may do to her now, having not seen or touched her in some time. She attempted to focus on the sensation of his finger. Soon, one became two. Two, became three. He slowly enticed her feminine folds to open for him, and her full body and mind were now subservient to his touch and desires.

Unaware of anything but this, she felt a sudden strike upon her bum.

SLAP

AHHH, my sweet! she yelped in a sweet tone, taken aback. It seems he had managed to surprise her after all.

I do adore taking care of you, but I cannot let you be all too comfortable, now can I? Victor said, offering a cursory glance to her shocked complexion. She turned and bit her lip subconsciously, readying herself.

Now, what were you doing before? he asked as another hand mark burned itself onto her flesh. She could feel an ecstatic pleasure form on her bum, coloured in a delicious red.

Oh, sir please more Isabella moaned as her eyelids fluttered and her toes curled.

SLAP, followed by a finger quickly inserting itself through her labia.

Whining and pouting, being impatient and not listening.

SLAP, and another well-designed exploration of her folds and inner being.

Mmm, I am so sorry my lord, ever so sorry! Isabella apologised with an adorable bashfulness.

SLAP, and more delicious torture of her womanhood.

Her bum had turned a firm pink, with Victor easing his sexual conquest of her bum over time. He focused on rubbing her ladyparts. His fingers softly rubbed over her folds, and teased her lovely little pearl as her hips slowly began to raise upwards to meet his hands.

Victor took note of this, leaning in to whisper, Enjoying this, hmm? You seem to be meeting me part way, Bella.

I do as my lord wishes, Isabella said softly with a giggle. Her smile was wide and she could have stayed this way for ages. How many orgasms had she felt by this time? It mattered not. His hand marks on her rounded bottom and the fresh, pink and flooding state of her garden—they were recreating her and molding her to whatever he wished her to be. She felt pleasure at his touch, in the exact manner in which he wished.

Victor beckoned her to raise herself from his lap. He held her as she readjusted, her bum still experiencing a slight burning sensation. He slowly removed her silk wrappings, placing them to the side. The chill of the air was steadfast, making her bosom feel a tingle of delight as her rosebuds were grew taut with excitement.

He relaxed back onto the bed, his head against the headboard. She slowly climbed into his arms, her legs curled up and laying next to his. Her breathing was slow, and laboured, recovering from her orgasms. Oh, he has yet to feel that same pleasure! If only I could

Isabella s hand reached for his thigh, rubbing it softly as it neared his manhood. She could see the large mountain forming in his trousers, standing mighty as his sword. There was a faint spot of wetness on his trousers, indicating that his mighty tree of a member may be leaking just a bit. Isabella pondered on how it would look: large, covered in veins and a dark, bronzed hue. It would stand straight up, as if saluting her, but would have her on her hands and knees before she could take in a breath in awe.

Oh, how she desired to be conquered by it. It would leave her in shambles, weak and in utter disarray. It would be hours until she could recover from such a delectable ravishing. But she desired it now, more than ever. For her husband s fiery organ, she would give hours of her time, and every inch of her body.

Thank you for reading Part 3 of The Lady s Knight! Please offer your suggestions and comments, and I hope you are looking forward to the concluding portion of this story.

With Love,

SophTea

Click on a heart to thank the author of this story!

 

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