The Flame of Carborough

The Flame of Carborough

The Flame of Carborough


Lady Calla Carborough woke on the clear summer morning with her loins throbbing and full of desire. The man appeared in her dreams that night again. It was always the same. She was in the stables alone.  Her horse, Dahlia, was prepped for her to ride, but no stable hands were to be seen. It was hot and Calla undid her corset to let her full breasts breathe and tied her long skirts up on her waist bearing her stocking legs and thighs. Suddenly, the stable doors were thrown open and a man appeared in the doorway silhouetted by the sunlight. His was a figure of disarray. His shoulder-length loose hair was tousled and sweaty. His shirt was hanging loose exposing his muscled, hairless chest. His leather breeches were stained with dirt and bulged with his manhood. He strode in in a rush pulling his horse behind him. He walked his stallion through the stables and brought him to a stall.

In her dream, Calla was wonton. She felt her nipples rise under her bodice and her sex moisten. She cat walked over to him slowly pulling at the laces of her bodice. She cast it aside when it came undone and closed on the man. When she could see him clearly, his face was classically handsome: strong jawline, strong nose, with eyes like jade pools. His eyes took her in, her young soft breasts now easy to make out under her sweat-soaked loose blouse. With one last pull, her skirts fell to her ankles, and she stood in her blouse, stockings, and heels. The man’s breath caught as she reached out to him, his mouth hanging open. She grabbed his neck and pulled his mouth down to hers. They drank each other as an electric current raced through both of them.

The man reached to pull her close to him, and she stepped back out of his grasp. She shook her head no as she pulled the ribbon in her hair away and her long brown hair tumbled down in waves over her back and shoulders. Calla pulled her blouse over her head and let him take in her curvaceous naked body. She held up her right finger and made a twirling motion. The man gave a half smile and did as she commanded. Calla approached him and put her hands on his waist. She guided his shirt above his head as she rubbed his sides. Her mouth trailed up his spine until she had it. She put her hands on his shoulders and ran them slowly down his arms to his wrists. She brought his wrists back behind him and tied them together. He did not resist. Calla turned him around and he looked at her questioningly.

She smiled a devilish smile and motioned for him to lay down on a fresh haybale nearby. He was more than willing. His chest rose and fell with heightened excitement, and she could see his long manhood rising against his thigh. Calla felt powerful and beautiful standing above him. She brought her left breast to him mouth for him to worship. He took it between his lips and sucked hard. His tongue circling her nipple and making it taught as stone. He pulled back as he sucked and grazed her nipple with his teeth until her breast snapped back and bounced playfully in his face. She brought her other breast to his mouth, and he lavished it with the same attention licking and sucking it until she moaned. He tugged on his bonds then, forgetting they were there. He wanted to grab her. She motioned for him to be still. She brought her mouth onto his again and felt that addictive jolt of electricity. When she felt herself losing herself in his mouth too much, she pulled away. She wanted all of him.

She reached out to his naked chest and began to caress him as she lowered herself to her knees. She kissed her way down his body from his neck to his waist. She held his thighs as she pulled his stays loose with her teeth. His cock stood tall in the warm air, and she gasped at its size and girth. She could see the blood throb through it with need and she lowered her mouth to it to trace its veins. This creature was hers to tame and she would not back away. She took him fully in her mouth moistening his shaft. She began to suck and move her mouth up and down swallowing him and licking him. He moaned with desire, and she felt his hips rise to meet her mouth. She sucked and sucked to draw his pleasure from him. She could feel him go taught as a stone and she knew he was close to release. She pulled her mouth off his cock and wiped her lips with the back of her hand. “Not yet…” She said as he continued to writhe and moan.

Calla brought his naked body to the floor, the haybale supporting his back, his head resting on its edge. She straddled him, her torso just above his face. The man tried to touch her with his outstretched tongue. She teased him lowering herself and pulling away right when he might have tasted her. Then when she felt he had been tormented enough she lowered herself gently allowing him to latch his mouth to her sex. He was slow at first. He let his tongue circle her clit gently, softly. He increased his speed. Then he raised his head and took her fully into his mouth. He sucked as he circled her clitoris with his tongue. Faster and faster he sucked and her moans became outcries. “Yes, Yes, fuck yes…” He could feel her getting close as her torso began to quiver and her outcries became more intense. “Do it! Do it! Suck me!”

The man would not give what she wanted though. Turn about is fair play. He pulled his mouth away from her. “Please! Please! Don’t stop!” She cried. He only smiled at her slyly. “Give me my hands.” She looked at him steadily and pulled away. Obstinately, she lowered her hips down to his. She used her hands to guide him inside her. As she closed on his cock with her tight pussy they gave a mutual groan of pleasure. She slowly rose up and down on his cock. She was tentative at first, accustoming herself to his massiveness. “Oh my God!!” It was like nothing she had ever felt before. As she closed on him fully the tip of his cock pushed on the back of her and she quivered as stubbornness left her and she succumbed to him. As she rode him she reached around him and untied him. With his hands free he grabbed her hips and pulled her down on him hard. He grabbed the back of her head and kissed her. Their kiss betraying their desperate need. He grabbed her Hair and eased her down to her back. He put her legs on his shoulder and he thrust into her with abandon. He found himself beyond rational thought, beyond words beyond anything but her cunt and this moment.


She was all there was. With another thrust she felt the ascent of her climax. “Almost there…almost there…don’t stop! Don’t you fucking stop!” And as she felt her pleasure rise to the apex of her being…she woke up, alone in her bed. “FUCKKKK!” she said and fell back into her bedsheets. Every night it was the same. And she could never get there in the dream. Always so close, but never there.
She thought of the man again. He was so familiar to her, like he was real. She remembered the dream and lowered her hand to her sex. She slowly began to rub her clitoris with her hand. She brought herself to climax quickly, but it was only a shadow of the one the dream had promised.


Where had those ideas come from? They in no way resembled her waking life. She looked like herself in them, but no other similarity remained. She was shy around men, especially those who flirted with her. Not that there were many of those. As a maiden daughter of a country lord, she had little interaction with men. There were the servants and stable hands, who usually avoided her eyes. There were her father’s friends and associates, but most of those were too old to catch her eye and usually treated her as a pet brought out for show day, admiring her graces to her father and the room at large, but never addressing her directly.

She had been instructed, as every good lady of her standing had been, to behave meekly around men and not engage them, too much, lest they think her brazen. And she knew she would never be allowed to act as she did in her dreams in real life. She would be married off, when the time came, to a lord of good standing who brought her father favor, be it money, or power, or position at court.

There was only one man on the estate who treated her as a human being, rather than a doll: the sword master. The Master-at Arms, Old Nolan, was a hard, weathered man of five and seven, who brooked no nonsense. He believed every young woman should be able to protect herself and he trained Calla in hand-to-hand combat along with his 4 daughters. Each of his 4 daughters’ names had been suggested by traveling peddlers that Nolan had met in the pub. They sounded very exotic and unique to Nolan and he insisted their uniqueness would confer a special destiny to each girl. His eldest at 19 was Sakura, which the peddler had told him was a beautiful flower form the far east. His next eldest daughter was Zorana, which meant “dawn” in some impossibly foreign tongue. She was 16 and wickedly clever. Rabiah (or Rabby, as everyone called her) was 10. Her name meant “gentle wind”. The youngest was 6-year-old Bodhi (“enlightenment”) and she was the treasure of the castle.


Sakura was Calla’s best friend on the estate and because she was 2 years older than Calla, she believed that she knew just about everything there was to know about life. Sakura seemed to know all about men and what they wanted and what they did with women. It was Sakura who had taught her about her flower and how she could bring herself pleasure…


To Be Continued...



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