The Knight Who Claimed Her Husband

Rosalind Faire

Copyright

Copyright © 2026 by Rosalind Faire

All rights reserved.

No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

The Knight Stops at Their Booth

The sun was a fucking bastard, baking the dirt between the tents and turning the Faire into a sweatbox. Savannah Lemon wiped her forehead, tits practically spilling out of her bodice, the green velvet squeezing them up so high she might as well have been selling cleavage instead of tankards. Every other guy who walked by stared straight at her tits, not the overpriced mugs. She didn’t care. Phil stood next to her, looking like a nerd who’d gotten lost in a costume shop—linen shirt, leather vest, hair plastered to his forehead, glasses sliding down his nose as he tried to explain to some pimply kid why a flagon wasn’t a stein. He was hopeless. He was hers.

Savannah fucking loved this. The costumes, the fake history, the way Phil’s cock twitched every time she called him “my lord” in that slutty whisper she used just for him. Their booth made decent money, and every night they’d fuck in the camper, counting cash and laughing about idiots trying to pay with plastic coins. It was easy. Safe. Just the way she liked it—until now.

Until the knight showed up.

The crowd split for her like she was royalty. Tall, broad, wrapped in enough steel to blind half the Faire. The woman inside the armor walked like she owned the place—long legs, dark hair braided tight, sweat gluing stray strands to her neck. Her face was all sharp lines and a mouth made for barking orders and making men crawl. Black lion on red across her chest. Juliana Longteety, the Faire’s jousting queen and everyone’s wet dream. Savannah had seen her from a distance, but never close enough to smell the sweat, metal, and raw, cocky swagger pouring off her.

Juliana stopped right in front of their booth. One gauntleted hand rested on the hilt of the longsword at her hip. She looked Phil up and down slowly enough that Savannah felt her own stomach tighten.

“Well now,” Juliana said, voice low and rough like gravel wrapped in velvet. “What manner of goods does a soft-handed scholar peddle to fair folk?”

Phil blinked behind his glasses. His mouth opened, then closed. Savannah stepped in smoothly as always.

“Tankards, my lady. Hand-hammered. Authentic to the period. We also have excellent mead if you’ve a mind to wet your whistle after a hard day of smiting.”

Juliana’s gaze slid from Phil to Savannah. Those dark eyes lingered on Savannah’s pushed-up tits, then moved back to Phil like he was the main course and Savannah was just the garnish. A slow smile curved the knight’s mouth.

“Soft-handed indeed,” she murmured. “Tell me, scholar. Do you know the proper way to address a knight of the realm when she graces your stall?”

Phil cleared his throat. “My lady knight?”

Juliana laughed once, short and sharp. She leaned forward, armor creaking, and planted both hands on the wooden counter. The motion made the plates shift, and Savannah caught the faint scent of sweat and oil and something darker underneath.

“Closer,” Juliana said. “Try again.”

Phil leaned in. Savannah watched his neck flush pink. She knew that flush. It usually happened right before he buried his face between her legs and begged to make her come. Her cunt gave a lazy throb inside her skirts.

“My lady knight,” Phil repeated, softer this time.

Juliana reached out one finger and tipped his chin up. The metal of her gauntlet looked cold against his skin. “Better. But next time you will kneel when you say it. Understood?”

Savannah’s breath caught. She should have stepped in. Should have laughed it off and made some clever remark about historical accuracy. Instead, she stood there feeling the heat crawl up her own chest, watching her husband’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard and nodded.

“Yes, my lady knight.”

Juliana straightened. Her eyes flicked to Savannah again, measuring. “And you wench. You keep the scholar in line, do you?”

Wench. The word hit her like a hand to the face. Savannah’s nipples stabbed against the velvet, hard and aching. She forced a grin. “I keep him busy enough, my lady.”

“Good.” Juliana picked up one of the tankards, turned it over in her hands, inspecting the work. “Fine craftsmanship. I may return later. After the lists. Perhaps the scholar can demonstrate how these vessels are properly filled.”

She set the tankard down with a heavy clunk. Then she turned and walked away, armor clanking with every step. The crowd closed behind her as if she had never been there.

Savannah let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Her heart hammered against her ribs. She looked at Phil. His face was flushed, his hands trembled slightly as he straightened a row of goblets that didn’t need straightening.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered. “That was… intense.”

Savannah stepped closer and pressed her hip against his. She could feel the half-hard line of his cock through his breeches. “You liked it,” she whispered. “Don’t lie. I saw your face.”

Phil glanced around, then back at her. “She’s… she’s something else. The way she just… took over. Fuck Sav, I felt like I was actually in the fifteenth century for a second.”

Savannah’s brain spun. She was always in charge. She called the shots, decided how rough, made Phil beg and eat her out until she was shaking. But watching that knight turn her husband into a blushing, stuttering wreck in half a minute did something filthy to her. Her cunt was already wet and throbbing, and there were still hours to go.

She licked her lips. “You know, we could fuck around with that. Play pretend. You’re the pathetic merchant, she’s the big bad knight. I’ll watch the booth while you get on your knees for her.”

Phil’s eyes widened. “You serious?”

Savannah shrugged, trying to sound bored even as her cunt throbbed. “Why not? It’s just a game. She obviously gets off on bossing people around. I’d love to see you squirm for once.”

Phil let out a shaky laugh, but his cock twitched harder against her thigh. “You’re evil, Sav. You know that, right?”

She grinned and grabbed his cock through his breeches, squeezing hard enough to make him gasp. “You fucking love it. Now sell some tankards before I haul you behind the booth and suck you off so you don’t embarrass yourself when she comes back.”

The afternoon crawled. Every time someone mentioned the jousts, Savannah pictured Juliana’s armor and the way she’d made Phil look like a whipped puppy. By sundown, Savannah’s bodice was strangling her tits, her thighs were slick and chafing, and Phil kept sneaking looks at her red face, grinning like he knew she was ready to fuck him stupid.

They were packing the last of the unsold goods when the armor clanked again.

Juliana stood at the edge of the booth now without her helmet. Her dark hair was damp with sweat, and her cheeks carried a healthy flush from the day’s exertions. She looked even taller without the helmet. Stronger. The linen shirt beneath her half-unbuckled breastplate clung to her chest, outlining full breasts and hard nipples.

“Scholar,” she said without preamble. “Your wares interest me. Show me the rest. In private.”

Phil froze, hands stuck on a half-folded rag. Savannah’s mouth went dry. This was moving fast—faster than she’d meant. She should have said no, set some rules. Instead, her voice came out hungry and desperate.

“Our camper is just behind the row, my lady. We have better light there. And mead. If it pleases you.”

Juliana’s eyes locked on Savannah’s for a long beat. Something flickered there, amusement mixed with hunger. “It pleases me, wench. Lead the way.”

Savannah’s legs wobbled as she led them to the camper. Phil trailed behind, lugging their best stuff. Every step made her feel the wet mess between her legs, her nipples raw against the velvet. Juliana’s stare burned into her ass, making her want to bend over and let the knight take her right there.

Inside, the air was cooler but heavy with sweat and nerves. Savannah fumbled with the lanterns. Phil dumped the chest on the table. Juliana ducked in, filling the whole damn camper. She stripped off her breastplate and let it crash to the bench. Her linen shirt was soaked, see-through in spots, her tits and nipples on full display. Savannah stared, cunt throbbing.

“Pour the mead scholar,” Juliana ordered. “And you wench. Help me with the rest of this steel. My shoulders ache from the lists.”

Savannah’s hands shook only a little as she stepped forward. The buckles were stiff with use. Her fingers brushed warm skin and hard muscle as she worked them loose. Juliana smelled like sweat and metal and something wild. When the last pauldron came free, Savannah stepped back, heart pounding.

Juliana rolled her shoulders and stretched. The motion made her tits strain against the thin linen. She took the tankard Phil offered and drank deep. A drop of mead ran down her chin and dripped onto her chest.

“Good,” she said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “Now. Tell me, merchant. How does a man like you end up selling cups with a wife who looks like she was bred for sin?”

Phil’s face turned beet red. Savannah’s neck burned, but her cunt squeezed tight at the filthy way Juliana talked about her.

“We… we both love history,” Phil managed. “The Faire lets us live it a little.”

Juliana set the tankard down and stepped closer to him. She towered over Phil by a good four inches. One hand came up and traced the line of his jaw.

“History is full of men who knelt for stronger women,” she said softly. “You have the look of one who would kneel beautifully. Wouldn’t you scholar?”

Phil was panting. Savannah stood by the door, staring at the bulge in his pants. She’d never seen him this hard, not even after an hour of grinding her cunt on his face.

“I… maybe,” he whispered.

Juliana smiled slowly and predatorily. “On your knees then. Let’s see how well you bow.”

Phil dropped. Just like that. His knees hit the thin carpet with a soft thud. Juliana looked over at Savannah.

“And you wench. Stand there and watch. Hands behind your back. No touching yourself. Understand?”

Savannah’s mouth hung open, useless. Her clit throbbed so hard she thought she might come just from standing there. She nodded, shoved her hands behind her back, tits jutting out. Juliana looked her over like a piece of meat, then ignored her.

“Good girl,” she murmured. Then to Phil, “Now kiss my boot, scholar. Show me how grateful you are that a real knight bothered to stop at your pathetic little stall.”

Phil bent down and kissed the filthy leather. The back of his neck went red, his shoulders shook. Savannah felt her cunt drip down her thigh, untouched and desperate.

Juliana threaded her fingers through Phil’s hair and guided his mouth higher. Up the leather. Over the grave. Until his face pressed against the inside of her thigh, where the armor ended, and warm skin began.

“Smell that scholar,” Juliana said, voice dropping lower. “That’s what a woman who spent all day conquering looks like. Taste it.”

Phil’s tongue came out. He licked a long, slow stripe up her inner thigh. Juliana sighed and widened her stance. Savannah could see the damp spot forming on the front of Juliana’s breeches. Could smell the thick musk of aroused cunt mixing with the leather and metal.

“That’s it,” Juliana praised. “Slow. Show your wife how a man properly serves a knight.”

Savannah’s knees wobbled. She wanted to finger herself so bad her hands shook behind her back, nails digging in. All she could do was watch Phil lick Juliana’s thigh like it was the only thing that mattered, while the knight shoved her crotch in his face.

The knight looked over at Savannah again. Her eyes were dark and knowing.

“See something you like, wench?” she asked. “Because this is only the beginning. By the time this Faire ends, your scholar husband is going to know exactly who his cock belongs to. And you…” She smiled slowly and cruelly. “You’re going to learn what it really means to serve.”

Savannah gasped. Her cunt clenched so hard she nearly came without anyone even touching her.

She had started this game thinking she could control it.

She was already fucked.

And she’d never been this wet in her life.

First Role-Play

Juliana’s fist was tangled in Phil’s hair, holding him in place while his tongue traced lazy circles up her thigh, so close to her cunt it made Savannah ache. Savannah stood at attention, hands locked behind her back like a good little slut, just as she’d been told. The camper felt like a prison cell, every groan of the mattress and clatter of armor making her pulse hammer between her legs. Her cunt throbbed, desperate to be filled, desperate for friction. She wanted to claw her hand under her skirt and finger herself until she screamed, but Juliana’s eyes kept pinning her in place. No touching. No relief. Just watch.

“Enough, scholar,” Juliana said, pulling Phil’s face away from her thigh. A thin string of spit connected his lips to her skin for a second before it broke. Phil looked up at her, dazed, his glasses fogged, and his mouth shiny. “Stand up. Strip. Let’s see what kind of weapon you’re hiding under those breeches.”

Phil staggered to his feet, hands trembling as he fumbled with the laces of his vest, then his shirt. Savannah drank in every inch of exposed skin, the familiar patch of hair on his chest, the soft belly he’d earned from too many nights hunched over essays. She loved every bit of him, but with Juliana’s hulking, armored body looming over them, Phil looked even smaller, even weaker. Pathetic, almost. The sight made Savannah’s nipples ache, pressed hard against the velvet, humiliation and arousal twisting together in her gut.

Phil shoved his breeches down and his cock popped out, stiff and drooling, but as unimpressive as ever. Small. Always had been. It twitched pathetically under Juliana’s stare, like it was begging for attention it didn’t deserve. Juliana’s smirk said it all—she’d seen bigger, better, and she knew it.

“Pretty little thing,” she said. “Looks eager to serve. On the bed scholar. On your back. Hands above your head.”

Phil obeyed without a word. He stretched out on the narrow camper bed, his cock pointing straight up toward the low ceiling. Juliana turned to Savannah.

“Wench. Come here. Undress me the rest of the way. Slowly. I want your husband to watch every buckle, every strap.”

Savannah’s body obeyed before her mind did, stepping into Juliana’s heat. Her fingers fumbled with the last buckles, stripping away the knight’s armor piece by piece, exposing thighs thick with muscle. When she got to Juliana’s breeches, her hands shook. The fabric was soaked at the crotch, dark with arousal. The smell hit Savannah hard—raw, musky, pure cunt. It made her mouth water and her cheeks burn with shame.

Juliana lifted her hips and Savannah peeled the breeches down, exposing nothing but bare, shaved pussy—already slick and swollen, lips puffy and dark, clit jutting out like it was taunting her. Savannah’s mouth flooded with spit, her face burning with humiliation at how badly she wanted to taste another woman’s cunt.

“Eyes up, wench,” Juliana ordered. “You don’t get to taste yet. That’s for later. If you behave.”

Savannah dragged her eyes up, forcing herself to look away from Juliana’s cunt. Juliana yanked off her sweat-soaked shirt and tossed it aside, baring tits that were big and heavy, nipples dark and hard. Scars slashed across her ribs and shoulder—proof she was dangerous, the kind of woman who could break you and make you thank her for it. She was beautiful like a hurricane, something you wanted to drown in even as it destroyed you.

Juliana climbed onto the bed. She straddled Phil’s chest first, letting her wet cunt hover just above his mouth. “You breathe when I say you breathe, scholar. Understand?”

Phil nodded frantically. Juliana lowered herself until her slick folds covered his mouth and nose. She rolled her hips, grinding slowly and deliberately. Wet sounds filled the camper. Phil’s hands stayed obediently above his head, but his cock jerked and leaked onto his stomach with every rock of her hips.

Savannah stood at the end of the bed, hands locked behind her back, forced to watch. She saw everything—the way Juliana’s ass flexed as she ground her cunt over Phil’s face, the slick mess of her juices smeared across his cheeks and fogging up his glasses. Phil made pathetic, desperate noises, licking and sucking like a starving dog, hungry for every drop.

“Look at your husband, wench,” Juliana said without breaking rhythm. “He’s already better at this than most squires I’ve broken in. You train him well?”

Savannah’s voice came out hoarse. “I… I try my lady.”

Juliana laughed low. She reached down and pinched one of Phil’s nipples hard enough that he bucked beneath her. “He’s going to learn new lessons this weekend. Harder ones. You’re going to help me teach him. Aren’t you?”

“Yes, my lady,” Savannah whispered, her voice shaking. Her cunt spasmed, empty and aching, slickness running down her thigh. The humiliation of being so wet, so needy, just from watching her husband get used, made her even hornier.

Juliana lifted off Phil’s face just long enough for him to gasp for breath. His mouth and chin were drenched. He looked drunk. “Please…” he rasped.

“Please, what scholar?” Juliana asked, sliding back down, but only letting the tip of his tongue reach her clit.

“Please let me taste more. Please ride my face, my lady knight.”

Juliana ground her cunt down harder on Phil’s face, staring straight at Savannah. “Your wife’s dripping down her legs, watching you get used. Did you know that? Her cunt’s soaked because she loves seeing her husband treated like a worthless whore.”

Phil moaned into Juliana’s cunt, hips bucking uselessly, desperate for any kind of friction. Savannah’s cheeks burned with shame, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away. She wanted to shove her hand between her legs and rub herself raw, but she kept her hands locked behind her back, knuckles white from the effort.

After long minutes, Juliana finally swung her leg over and slid down Phil’s body. She positioned herself over his cock and rubbed her slick folds along the length of it without letting him inside. Teasing. Torturing.

“Beg me to fuck you, scholar,” she said.

Phil’s voice cracked. “Please, my lady knight. Please fuck me. I need it. I need your cunt.”

Juliana glanced at Savannah again. “Hear that wench? Your husband is begging a stranger to take what’s yours. How does that make you feel?”

Savannah swallowed, her voice barely more than a whimper. “It makes me wet, my lady. So fucking wet I’m dripping.”

“Good girl.” Juliana reached down, wrapped her hand around Phil’s cock, and sank down in one smooth motion. Phil cried out as her tight heat swallowed him to the root. Juliana didn’t pause. She rode him hard from the start. Armor pieces still scattered around them clanked every time her hips slammed down. Her tits bounced heavy and free. Sweat rolled down her chest and dripped onto Phil’s stomach.

Savannah stared, unable to look away. She watched Juliana’s cunt swallow Phil’s cock, stretching around him, leaving him slick and shiny every time she lifted off. The sound of wet flesh slapping together filled the camper, mixed with Juliana’s animal grunts and Phil’s pathetic, broken moans.

“Touch her tits, scholar,” Juliana ordered. “Squeeze them while I use this pretty cock.”

Phil’s hands flew to Juliana’s breasts. He kneaded them, pinched the nipples exactly the way Savannah liked. Juliana moaned louder and fucked him faster. The bed creaked dangerously beneath them.

Savannah’s legs shook, her orgasm building just from watching. Her clit throbbed with every smack of Juliana’s ass against Phil’s hips. The air was thick with the smell of sweat, cunt, and the sharp, salty stink of Phil’s leaking cock.

Juliana suddenly reached out and grabbed Savannah by the hair. She yanked her closer until Savannah’s face was inches from where their bodies joined.

“Look close, wench,” Juliana growled. “Watch how deep I take him. Watch how your husband’s cock disappears inside a real woman’s cunt.”

Savannah stared, eyes wide. She saw Juliana’s pussy lips gripping Phil’s cock, the frothy mess of cream collecting at the base, Phil’s balls pulling up tight every time Juliana slammed down and took him to the hilt.

Juliana fucked him harder. “You don’t get to come until I say, scholar. You hold it. You hold it while I use you.”

Phil whimpered. His hips jerked up trying to meet her thrusts. Juliana slapped his chest hard enough to leave a red mark.

“Still,” she snapped. “You come when your knight tells you to come.”

Savannah’s mouth hung open, a silent moan caught in her throat. She wanted to beg, to crawl between Juliana’s legs and lick up the mess where her husband’s cock disappeared inside another woman. But she stayed put, hands locked behind her back, cunt drooling down her thighs like the obedient slut she was.

Juliana rode Phil straight through her own orgasm. Her cunt clenched visibly around his cock. She threw her head back and let out a rough guttural groan that sounded like victory. When she finally slowed, she looked down at Phil’s desperate face.

“Not yet, scholar. Not yet.”

She climbed off him, leaving his cock shiny and throbbing and denied. Phil whimpered again hips twitching uselessly. Juliana turned to Savannah.

“On your knees, wench. Clean your husband’s cock. Taste what a real knight leaves behind.”

Savannah dropped to her knees so fast it hurt. The filthy carpet dug into her skin as she leaned in and swallowed Phil’s cock. The taste was overwhelming—Juliana’s thick, musky cunt juice mixed with Phil’s salty precum. Savannah moaned, sucking hungrily, licking up every drop like a bitch in heat. Phil gripped the sheets, but didn’t dare thrust. He’d learned his lesson.

Juliana stood over them, watching. One hand lazily stroked her own cunt.

“Good girl,” she murmured. “Suck him clean. Get every drop of me off your husband’s cock. Tomorrow we do this again. But tomorrow you’re going to hold my armor while I fuck him. You’re going to stand there like a proper wench and watch me take what I want.”

Savannah whimpered, Phil’s cock still in her mouth. Her cunt spasmed, so close to cumming she could barely breathe, just from being told what a good little slut she was.

Juliana reached down and patted Savannah’s head like she was a dog.

“Tomorrow, the real role-play begins. And by the end of this Faire, both of you are going to know exactly where you belong. Now finish cleaning him, wench. Then you can watch while I make him edge one more time before I leave.”

Savannah sucked harder, mind reeling with filthy images—armor, leather, her husband getting used and humiliated while she knelt and served. She’d thought this was just a game.

She was already deep inside it.

And she never wanted it to stop.

Savannah’s Bright Idea

The knight left them ruined, like a pair of cum-soaked rags tossed aside after a gangbang.

Juliana had edged Phil twice more with her hand while Savannah knelt beside the bed and watched. Every time his cock throbbed, and his balls drew up tight, Juliana would squeeze the base hard and laugh low in her throat. “Not yet, scholar. Save it for tomorrow.” By the time she finally pulled on her breeches and buckled enough armor to walk back through the Faire, Phil was a shaking, sweating mess. His cock stayed rock-hard and angry-red even after the camper door clicked shut.

Savannah knelt there, mouth still full of Juliana’s cunt and Phil’s pre-cum, thighs so slick she could have slipped off the bed. She crawled up and planted her dripping pussy right on Phil’s face, not bothering with words. He knew his job. His tongue went straight to work, desperate, like he’d been starved for pussy his whole life. Savannah rode his face like she was trying to suffocate him, pinching her nipples hard, chasing the orgasm that had been boiling in her gut since the knight first made Phil kneel like a pathetic little bitch.

Savannah came hard, grinding her cunt into Phil’s mouth until she soaked his face in a flood of girl-cum that had been building up for weeks. Phil moaned like he was the one getting off, his face shiny with her mess. When she finally rolled off, they lay there tangled up, sticky and silent, the only sound their gasping breaths and the muffled party noise outside.

Phil spoke first. His voice was hoarse. “Jesus Christ Sav… what the fuck just happened?”

Savannah rolled onto her side and traced a finger down his still-hard cock. It jerked under her touch. “You liked it,” she said. Not a question.

Phil swallowed. “I… yeah. Fuck. I really did. The way she just took control. Called me a scholar like I was nothing. Made me beg.” He let out a shaky laugh. “I’ve never been that hard in my life.”

Savannah’s cunt throbbed again, lazy and satisfied. She fucking loved hearing him admit it, the shame and the need tangled up in his voice. She leaned in and licked a stripe up his neck, tasting his sweat and humiliation.

"I liked watching," she whispered, voice thick. "Watching her use your mouth like a toy. Watching her bounce on your cock while I had to sit there with my hands off my cunt, just leaking all over myself because she said so." She wrapped her hand around his cock, gave it a slow, mean stroke. "You’re still rock hard for her, aren’t you? Even after she walked out."

Phil groaned and thrust up into her fist. “She said tomorrow… she wants you to hold her armor while she fucks me.”

Savannah’s breath caught. She pictured herself in her sluttiest wench dress, clutching Juliana’s armor while the knight rode her husband’s cock like she owned it. Her hand slid between her legs, finding her cunt still dripping, filthy and desperate.

“We should do it,” she said before she could stop herself. “The whole role-play thing. You, as the humble merchant. Me as your loyal wench. She is the conquering knight who takes whatever she wants from the booth. It’ll be hot. Historical. Just pretend.”

Phil turned his head to look at her. His eyes were dark behind his glasses. “You sure? Because she didn’t feel like pretending to be Sav. She felt like she could actually own us if she wanted.”

Savannah’s fingers worked her clit faster, cunt leaking down her thighs at the thought of being owned. "That’s what makes it so fucking hot. I want to watch you serve her, want to be the one crawling around fetching her drinks, licking her armor clean with my tongue after she’s finished wrecking you. I want to feel like a filthy little wench while she fucks my husband stupid."

Phil’s cock pulsed hard in her hand. “Fuck Sav… you’re serious.”

"Dead fucking serious." She swung her leg over and dropped onto his cock, taking him to the hilt in one sloppy, wet slide. They both moaned. "Tomorrow morning, before the crowds, we hunt her down. We offer ourselves up. Proper entertainment. Historical, sure. I’ll be the perfect little servant—holding her gauntlets, spreading her legs wider when she wants, licking her cunt clean after she’s finished milking you dry."

Phil’s hands gripped her hips. He thrust up hard, meeting every roll of her body. “You’re going to watch her take me again?”

"Every fucking inch," Savannah gasped, riding him harder, grinding her clit against his body. "And I’m not touching myself until she gives the order. I’ll stand there dripping like a pathetic slut while she uses your cock right in front of me."

Phil’s thrusts turned frantic. “Jesus… I’m gonna come, Sav.”

"Not yet," Savannah snapped, channeling the knight’s cruelty. She slowed her hips to a mean, teasing grind. "You hold it. Just like she made you. You save every pathetic drop for her tomorrow."

Phil whimpered but obeyed. His fingers dug bruises into her hips. Savannah rode him slowly and meanly until she felt her own orgasm cresting. She let it crash over her, clenching tight around his cock while he stayed perfectly still beneath her, fighting not to come.

When she finally slid off, Phil’s cock was shiny with her mess, throbbing and angry-red. Savannah bent down and kissed the drooling tip, tasting her own slick.

“Good boy,” she whispered. “Tomorrow you’re going to be the knight’s eager little fucktoy. And I’m going to be the wench who serves you both.”

They barely slept, both of them too wired and filthy and desperate for morning to come.

Savannah woke up before dawn, hand already buried between her legs, rubbing herself raw while Phil snored like a useless lump beside her. Her brain replayed every filthy second from the night before—the sight of Juliana straddling Phil’s face, the obscene wet noises, the way she spat out 'wench' like Savannah was nothing. By sunrise, Savannah had made herself come twice, thighs sticky and sheets damp.

She shook Phil awake. “Get dressed. Merchant clothes. Nothing fancy. We’re going to find her before the joust practice starts.”

Phil blinked sleep from his eyes, but his cock was already half-hard again. “You really want this.”

"I need this," Savannah shot back. She yanked on her sluttiest wench dress—the one that barely covered her ass and left her tits practically falling out. No bra, no panties, just bare skin under cheap linen. "I want to feel everything. The humiliation, the heat, the way my cunt leaks when she makes you beg and makes me watch like a useless whore."

They found Juliana at the lists behind the main arena. She was already in half-armor, running drills with a squire. Sweat gleamed on her bare arms. When she spotted them, she planted her practice sword in the dirt and waved the squire away.

“Scholar. Wench.” Her voice carried that same rough command. “You’re up early.”

Savannah stepped forward before Phil could speak. She kept her eyes down like a proper servant. “My lady knight. We talked last night. We thought… perhaps you might enjoy some private historical reenactment this morning. Before the crowds arrive. My husband is the humble merchant offering tribute. I was his loyal wench attendant. Whatever service you require.”

Juliana’s mouth curved into a slow, hungry smile. She looked them both over, taking in Savannah’s hard nipples poking through the thin dress and the obvious bulge in Phil’s breeches.

“Service,” she repeated. “I like the sound of that. Come with me.”

She led them to a small private tent behind the staging area. Inside, it smelled of hay and leather and yesterday’s sweat. Juliana unbuckled her remaining armor pieces and let them drop. She stood in just her damp linen shirt and breeches.

“Strip him, wench,” she ordered. “Slowly. Then strip yourself. But leave the dress on. I want easy access to those tits while I use your husband.”

Savannah’s hands shook as she stripped Phil, feeling Juliana’s eyes burning into her. When Phil was finally naked, his cock was standing straight up, leaking like he was about to explode. Savannah stepped back, tits out, waiting for orders.

Juliana circled them like a predator. She stopped in front of Phil and gripped his jaw hard.

“On your knees, scholar. You’re going to thank me properly for even considering your tribute.”

Phil dropped. Savannah’s cunt clenched at the sight. Juliana shoved her breeches down and stepped out of them. She grabbed Phil by the hair and pulled his face straight into her cunt.

“Lick,” she commanded. “Show your wife how grateful you are.”

Phil dove in. Loud wet sounds filled the tent immediately. Juliana sighed and rolled her hips, grinding against his mouth. Her free hand reached out and yanked the front of Savannah’s dress down, exposing her tits.

“Pinch your nipples, wench. Hard. I want them red and aching while you watch your husband eat my cunt.”

Savannah obeyed. She rolled her nipples between her fingers, pinching until pain mixed with pleasure. Her cunt dripped steadily down her inner thighs. Juliana watched her with dark, satisfied eyes.

“Look at you,” the knight murmured. “Already dripping like a bitch in heat just because your husband is on his knees for another woman. You’re going to be such a good wench this weekend.”

She fucked Phil’s face harder. Her thighs flexed powerful muscles rippling under sweat-slick skin. When she finally pulled him off, his face was shiny, and his glasses were completely fogged.

“On the cot scholar. On your back. Legs spread.”

Phil scrambled onto the narrow cot. Juliana climbed over him in reverse cowgirl, so Savannah had a perfect view. She reached down, lined Phil’s cock up with her dripping hole, and sank down slowly. Inch by inch until her ass rested against his hips.

“Fuck,” Juliana groaned. “Nice and deep. Your little cock fills me just right for a warm-up.”

She started riding him, slow at first, then pounding harder, making the cot squeal. Phil clung to the edges, not daring to move, just letting Juliana use his cock like a toy. Savannah stood there, tits out, nipples aching, watching every filthy slide of Juliana’s cunt swallowing her husband’s cock.

“Hold my tits, wench,” Juliana ordered without breaking rhythm. “Support them while I fuck your husband.”

Savannah stepped close. She cupped Juliana’s heavy breasts from behind, feeling their weight and heat. Her thumbs brushed the hard nipples. Juliana moaned louder and rode Phil faster.

“That’s it. Good little attendant. Squeeze them. Make them bounce for him.”

Savannah squeezed Juliana’s tits, feeling her heartbeat pounding under her hands. Every time the knight slammed down, there was a filthy squelch. Phil was panting, making pathetic noises as he tried not to blow his load.

Juliana suddenly reached back and grabbed Savannah’s hair. She yanked her forward until Savannah’s face was pressed against the side of her neck.

“Tell me, wench,” she growled. “Tell your husband how much you love watching me take his cock.”

Savannah’s voice trembled, desperate. "I fucking love it, Phil. Love watching her fuck you, love hearing her cunt squelch around your cock. Love being your filthy little wench while she uses you like a toy."

Phil groaned loudly. His hips jerked once before he caught himself.

Juliana laughed breathlessly. “Good girl. Now reach down and spread my ass. I want your husband’s cock even deeper while I come on him.”

Savannah’s hands slid down Juliana’s sweat-slick back. She gripped the firm cheeks and pulled them apart. The new angle made Juliana sink even lower. The knight cried out and fucked Phil in short, brutal strokes.

When Juliana came, it was brutal. Her whole body shook, cunt clenching tight around Phil’s cock, squirting a fresh mess all over his balls. Savannah felt every spasm, hands still gripping Juliana’s ass.

Juliana sat there for a moment, catching her breath, then finally lifted off Phil’s cock. It was still throbbing, shiny with her cream, looking like it might explode if anyone so much as breathed on it.

“Not yet, scholar,” she said. “Your wench is going to clean me first. Then you’re going to fuck her mouth while I watch. After that, we’ll see if you’ve earned a load.”

Savannah dropped to her knees, no hesitation. Juliana shoved her face into her dripping cunt, and Savannah licked like a starving animal, tasting the mess of Juliana’s cum and Phil’s pre-cum. She moaned into the wet folds, a filthy, desperate little wench.

Behind her, she heard Phil’s broken whimper as he waited for permission.

Juliana stroked Savannah’s hair almost gently.

“This is only the beginning, wench. By the time the Faire ends, you’re both going to be addicted to serving me. Now suck my clit properly while your husband watches. Show him what a good attendant does.”

Savannah obeyed, mind spinning with filthy daydreams—armor, tents, the risk of getting caught, kneeling while the knight used her husband over and over, turning them both into her personal sluts.

She had thought she was directing the fantasy.

Now she was drowning in it, cunt soaked and brain melting, no way out and not wanting one.

And every filthy second just made her cunt leak harder.

The Tent Behind the Lists

The sun was already beating down, making Savannah’s cheap wench dress stick to her sweaty skin. No panties, so every step mashed her cunt lips together and left a shiny trail down her thighs. Phil shuffled next to her, still glassy-eyed from the tent, his cock half-hard and bulging in his breeches for everyone to see. Juliana stomped ahead in her armor, metal clanking, not bothering to look back. She knew they’d follow. They always did. Good little pets.

They ended up at some shitty canvas tent behind the jousting lists. Usually it was for fixing armor, but now it was just a table, a couple stools, and straw everywhere. Juliana shoved the flap open and went in. As soon as the canvas dropped, the noise outside faded. Inside, it stank of sweat, leather, and metal—like a locker room after a gangbang.

“Lock the flap wench,” Juliana ordered without turning around.

Savannah fumbled with the ties, hands barely shaking. When she turned, Juliana was already stripping off her breastplate, dropping it on the table with a loud clang. No ceremony, just getting naked to fuck.

“Scholar. On your knees in the straw. Hands behind your back. You don’t move until I tell you.”

Phil dropped to his knees like a trained dog, straw sticking to his pants. Savannah stared at the way his cock twitched, straining against his breeches just from being told what to do. Her cunt throbbed in sympathy, slick already leaking down her legs.

Juliana looked at Savannah next. Those dark eyes dragged over her body slowly and deliberately. “Dress off, wench. But keep the bodice on. I want those tits on display while you serve.”

Savannah yanked the dress off in one go. Cold air hit her tits, making her nipples stand out like she was begging for attention. She was naked except for the bodice, tits shoved up and out, ready to be grabbed. Juliana’s eyes went straight to her bald cunt, slick glistening on her thighs for everyone to see.

“Pretty,” the knight murmured. “Now come help me out of the rest of this steel. Then you’re going to hold it for me while I fuck your husband.”

Savannah stepped in, fumbling with the buckles on Juliana’s armor. Each piece was heavy and sweaty, stinking of the knight’s body. She piled them on the table like a good servant. When she got to the leg armor, she had to kneel, face right in front of Juliana’s crotch. Even through the breeches, the smell of wet cunt was strong enough to make her mouth water.

Juliana threaded her fingers through Savannah’s hair and held her there while Savannah finished unbuckling the leg armor. “Smell that wench? That’s what a real woman smells like after she’s been thinking about using your husband all morning.”

Savannah sucked in a breath, mouth practically drooling. She wanted to shove her face in and lick, but she stayed put. Good little slut. Obedient and desperate.

When the last piece was off, Juliana shoved her breeches down and kicked them aside. Her cunt was puffy and wet, the lips dark and glistening. She sat on the edge of the sturdy table and spread her thighs wide.

“Scholar. Crawl over here. You’re going to eat my cunt until I’m dripping down your chin. Wench, you’re going to hold my tits and pinch my nipples while he does it. Keep me nice and relaxed before I ride that pretty cock of his.”

Phil crawled through the straw on hands and knees. The sight of her proud history-buff husband reduced to crawling made Savannah’s cunt clench so hard she almost came on the spot. He reached Juliana and pressed his mouth to her folds without hesitation. Loud, wet sucking sounds filled the tent immediately.

Savannah got behind Juliana and grabbed her tits, squeezing the heavy flesh in both hands. She pinched the fat nipples, rolling them between her fingers, harder and harder until Juliana moaned. She loved making another woman’s tits hurt.

“That’s it, wench. Twist them. Make them hurt just a little. I like it rough before I fuck.”

Savannah did as she was told, pinching and twisting the nipples until Juliana hissed. Phil was face-deep in cunt, slurping and sucking like a starving man. Juliana ground her pussy on his mouth, breathing like she was about to come already.

“Deeper scholar. Get your tongue inside me. Taste how wet thinking about owning your cock makes me.”

Phil shoved his tongue in deeper, nose buried in Juliana’s cunt. Her juices smeared all over his face, dripping down his chin. Savannah kept torturing the nipples, pinching and yanking until they were swollen and angry red.

Juliana suddenly grabbed Phil by the hair and yanked him back. His face was a shiny mess. “Enough. On the table scholar. On your back. Legs hanging off the edge.”

Phil scrambled up onto the table. His cock stood straight up, leaking steadily. Juliana climbed over him, facing Savannah. She positioned herself above Phil’s cock and looked straight at his wife.

“Hold it for me, wench. Guide your husband’s cock into my cunt. Nice and slow so you can watch every inch disappear.”

Savannah’s hands shook as she grabbed Phil’s cock, slick and throbbing. She lined him up with Juliana’s soaked cunt and watched every inch disappear inside the knight. Juliana slammed down until her ass hit Phil’s hips, trapping Savannah’s fingers between their bodies, feeling the stretch and the heat.

“Fuck he fills me nice,” Juliana groaned. She started riding slowly and deeply. The table creaked under them. “Hold my tits again, wench. Keep them bouncing while I use him.”

Savannah grabbed Juliana’s tits from behind, feeling every thrust shake through the knight’s body. The wet slap of cunt on cock was loud and filthy. Phil clung to the table, not daring to move, just letting Juliana use him like a toy.

“Tell me, wench,” Juliana panted between thrusts. “Tell me how it feels watching another woman fuck your husband right in front of you.”

Savannah’s voice was shaky and desperate. “I’m soaked, my lady. My cunt’s leaking down my legs. I love watching you fuck him. I love being your slut, holding your tits while you ride my husband.”

Juliana laughed low and reached back to slap Savannah’s ass hard. “Good girl. Now spread my cheeks. I want him even deeper while I come on this cock.”

Savannah grabbed Juliana’s ass and yanked the cheeks apart, spreading her wide. Juliana dropped lower, taking Phil’s cock all the way in. Phil groaned like he was about to lose it. Juliana started fucking him hard, brutal thrusts that made her tits bounce in Savannah’s grip.

Juliana came loud and messy, cunt squeezing Phil’s cock and soaking his balls with fresh juice. She ground down, riding out every spasm while Savannah kept her ass spread and her tits squeezed tight.

Juliana finally slowed but didn’t get off. She looked over her shoulder at Savannah.

“Your turn, wench. Clean my cunt off your husband’s cock. Use your mouth. Then you’re going to hold my armor pieces while I ride him again. Every time I want a break, you’re going to lick us both clean. Understand?”

Savannah nodded like a bitch in heat and dropped to her knees. Juliana lifted up just enough for her to get her mouth on Phil’s cock. The taste was filthy—Juliana’s cum and Phil’s precum mixed together. Savannah sucked it all up, moaning and licking like the needy slut she was.

Juliana watched with dark eyes. “That’s it. Get him nice and wet for me again. He’s going to fuck me until he’s begging to come, and you’re going to stand there holding my breastplate like a good little attendant while I deny him over and over.”

Savannah licked down, sucking Phil’s balls clean, then dragged her tongue back up his shaft. When Juliana dropped back down, Savannah stayed kneeling, clutching the breastplate against her bare tits. The steel was hot and heavy, pressing her tits flat while she watched Juliana fuck her husband slow and deep, dragging it out just to tease.

Every few minutes, Juliana would stop and make Savannah lick them clean. Savannah tongued Juliana’s cunt, then Phil’s cock, back and forth until both were slick with her spit. Her own cunt throbbed so bad she kept squeezing her thighs together, desperate for any friction at all.

Juliana edged Phil twice more, stopping every time he got close and making Savannah suck his cock until he calmed down. Phil was a wreck, begging and whining, "Please, my lady, please let me come," while Juliana just laughed and bounced harder on his cock.

Finally, Juliana climbed off completely. Phil’s cock looked painfully red and throbbing. She pointed at the straw.

“On your back, wench. Legs spread. You’re going to hold my gauntlets while your husband fucks me from behind. I want to watch your face while he fills me.”

Savannah lay down in the straw. She held the heavy gauntlets above her chest like an offering. Juliana straddled her, facing Phil, and lowered herself onto his cock again. This time, she faced Savannah so their eyes locked while the knight rode.

Phil fucked up into Juliana like a desperate animal. Savannah had the perfect view—Juliana’s cunt stretched wide around his cock, her clit grinding with every thrust. Juliana reached down and pinched Savannah’s nipples hard, making her gasp while she got fucked.

“Look at me, wench,” Juliana growled. “Watch your husband fuck me. Watch how much he loves this cunt.”

Savannah stared up, helpless and dripping, cunt clenching on nothing while Phil slammed into Juliana from behind. The gauntlets shook in her hands with every brutal thrust.

When Juliana finally let Phil come, it was explosive. He cried out and slammed deep, flooding the knight’s cunt with thick ropes of cum. Juliana ground down and came again, milking every drop.

Juliana sat there for a minute, catching her breath. When she finally got up, cum poured out of her stretched cunt, dripping down her thighs.

“Clean it, wench,” she ordered. “All of it. From my cunt and from your husband’s cock. Then you can thank me for letting you serve.”

Savannah dropped the gauntlets and crawled in, shoving her face between Juliana’s thighs. She licked up the mess, swallowing every drop of cum and girl juice. Then she moved down and sucked Phil’s cock clean, licking until it was soft and shiny.

Juliana stroked her hair almost tenderly.

“Good wench. Tomorrow we do this in public. Behind the stage during the joust show. You’re going to stand guard and hold my armor while I fuck him where anyone could walk by. And you’re not going to touch your cunt once. Not until I say.”

Savannah moaned around Phil’s cock, brain spinning from the risk, the humiliation, the filthy heat of it all.

She had thought she was playing a game.

Now she was just the wench. The slut. The one who held the armor and licked up the mess.

And she was already aching for more.

Wench Duties Begin

The rest of that first day at the Faire was a blur of sweat, aching legs, and Savannah’s cunt leaking down her thighs every time she bent over to hand some slob a tankard. Her pussy lips stuck to her skin, slick and raw, and she could feel every filthy drip. Phil kept sneaking looks at her tits, nipples hard enough to poke through the cheap linen like she was begging to be groped. They didn’t talk about the scene in the tent, but every time their eyes met, it was like they were both remembering how she’d watched her husband get fucked stupid. Every accidental touch made Savannah’s clit twitch, her whole body humming with humiliation and need.

By late afternoon, the place was crawling with sweaty idiots, the jousting field packed. Juliana was back in the lists, armor shining, knocking men off horses like it was nothing. Savannah tried to keep her eyes on the tankards, but every time Juliana rode past, all she could think about was how that knight had bent her husband over and ruined him in front of her. Her cunt clenched so hard she was sure she’d leave a wet patch on the bench. She was leaking for the woman who’d made her watch.

When the final joust ended and the crowds started drifting toward the evening feasts, Juliana appeared at the edge of their booth. Armor still on, sweat running in rivulets down her neck. She didn’t bother with pleasantries.

“Pack up early, scholar. Both of you. I have need of my attendant and her husband tonight.”

Phil nearly dropped the tankard, hands shaking like a kid caught jerking off. Savannah’s stomach twisted with that sick, horny excitement she was starting to crave. She nodded before her brain could catch up.

“Yes, my lady knight. We’ll be ready.”

They tore down the booth like they were running from a fire. The walk to the tent dragged on forever, Juliana’s armor clanking with every step. Savannah clutched a basket stuffed with mead, rags, and the little bottle of lube she usually kept for when Phil begged to be pegged. Phil lugged the heavy chest behind them, sweating like a mule. Nobody said a word. Just footsteps, metal, and the muffled sounds of drunks laughing somewhere out in the dark.

Inside the tent, Juliana wasted no time. She planted herself on the sturdy table and pointed at Savannah.

“Wench duties start now. First, you polish my armor. With your tongue. Every piece I took off this morning. While you do that, your husband is going to kneel between my legs and keep my cunt warm.”

Savannah’s mouth dried up. She dropped to her knees in the straw, grabbed the first pauldron, and tasted the leftover sweat and metal with her tongue. The steel was still warm from Juliana’s body, and the taste was half salt, half shame. Her face burned, but her cunt throbbed so hard she almost moaned. She was licking armor like a dog, and she loved it.

Phil knelt without being told. Juliana spread her thighs and guided his face back to her cunt. Wet sucking sounds started immediately. Savannah kept licking and polishing every curve and rivet of the armor piece while she watched her husband worship the knight’s pussy like it was the only thing that mattered.

Juliana sighed in pleasure and stroked Phil’s hair almost gently. “That’s it, scholar. Slow, lazy licks. Keep me nice and wet, but don’t make me come yet. Your wife has a lot of steel to polish tonight.”

Savannah crawled from one piece of armor to the next—breastplate, greaves, vambraces—giving each a slow, humiliating tongue bath. Her jaw ached, spit dribbling down her chin, but she didn’t dare stop. Juliana made her redo pieces just to watch her squirm. All the while, Phil’s face was buried between Juliana’s thighs, tongue working like a desperate puppy. Juliana just ground her cunt on his mouth, lazy and in control.

After the last gauntlet was gleaming, Savannah knelt back on her heels, waiting. Her tongue felt thick, her lips swollen. Drool and metal taste coated her mouth.

Juliana looked down at her with dark approval. “Good wench. Now come here and hold my tits while your husband makes me come on his tongue. After that, you’re going to clean me and then fetch me fresh mead from the basket. On your knees the whole way.”

Savannah crawled up, kneeling behind Juliana and grabbing those heavy tits, slick with sweat. She squeezed, first soft, then rougher when Juliana moaned. Phil’s tongue got louder, sloppier, like he was trying to drown himself in her cunt. Savannah’s hands shook with the urge to touch herself, but she didn’t dare.

When Juliana came, it was with a low guttural groan. Her thighs clamped around Phil’s head, and she ground down hard, flooding his mouth. Savannah felt every shudder through the knight’s body. She kept kneading the tits until the last spasm passed.

Juliana finally pushed Phil’s face away. His mouth and chin were drenched. “Clean me, wench. Thoroughly. Then clean your husband’s face. After that, you may fetch my drink.”

Savannah shoved her face between Juliana’s thighs and licked up every drop of cum and sweat, tongue dragging through the mess like she was starving for it. The taste was filthy and strong, and she swallowed it all. When Juliana’s cunt was spotless, Savannah turned to Phil and licked his face clean, even sucking the streaks off his glasses like a good little bitch.

Only then did she crawl to the basket, hands and knees in the straw, tits swinging. She poured the mead and carried the tankard back in her teeth, drool running down her chin. Juliana took it, smirking like she owned them both, and drank deep.

“Good girl. Now strip your husband completely. He’s going to fuck me while you hold my breastplate against your bare tits and watch from inches away. Every thrust. Every wet sound. You don’t touch your cunt. Not once.”

Savannah’s hands trembled as she yanked Phil’s clothes open. His cock popped out, already drooling. She helped him flop back in the straw, then grabbed the breastplate and mashed it against her bare tits. The cold metal made her nipples ache, and she gasped, cunt clenching with need she wasn’t allowed to touch.

Juliana straddled Phil again, this time in reverse, so Savannah had the perfect view. She sank down onto his cock in one smooth motion and started riding. Slow deep rolls of her hips that made wet, obscene sounds every time she bottomed out.

“Closer, wench,” Juliana ordered. “Hold that plate right against your tits and watch my cunt swallow your husband’s cock.”

Savannah crawled closer, knees burning, until she could see everything. Juliana’s cunt lips stretched wide around Phil’s cock, creamy froth bubbling at the base. Phil’s balls drew up tight every time Juliana slammed down, and Savannah’s mouth watered at the mess.

Juliana rode Phil harder, her ass flexing with every bounce, taking him deep and rough. Savannah hugged the breastplate to her chest, nipples scraping the metal raw. Her cunt was leaking onto the straw, but she didn’t dare move her hands. She was just there to watch and ache.

“Tell him, wench,” Juliana panted. “Tell your husband how much you love being my armor attendant while I fuck him.”

Savannah’s voice broke, thick with need. “I love it, Phil. I love holding her armor while she fucks you. I love being the useless wench who just watches while she takes your cock. My cunt’s a mess just from seeing it.”

Phil groaned, hips jerking up like he couldn’t help himself. Juliana just laughed and slammed down harder, fucking him like she owned him.

“Hold still, scholar. You don’t come until I say. Your wench is going to learn patience tonight, too.”

Juliana kept him on the edge, fucking him until he was whining, then stopping cold and making Savannah crawl in to lick up the mess. Savannah’s tongue slid from Juliana’s clit to Phil’s cock, back and forth, until both were slick and shiny with spit and girl juice.

By the third edge, Phil was whimpering, begging brokenly. “Please, my lady knight… please let me come inside you…”

Juliana finally took mercy. She rode him hard and fast, slamming down until her ass slapped against his hips. When she came this time, she clenched tight around him and ordered, “Now, scholar. Fill me.”

Phil howled and slammed up, dumping a load of cum into Juliana’s cunt. Juliana ground down, squeezing out every drop while Savannah knelt inches away, still clutching the breastplate like a pathetic trophy.

When Juliana finally lifted off, cum oozed out of her stretched cunt, dripping down her thighs.

“Clean it all, wench. Every drop from my cunt and from your husband’s cock. Then you may thank me properly for letting you serve tonight.”

Savannah tossed the breastplate aside and shoved her face between Juliana’s legs, licking up the mess like she was starving for it. She swallowed every drop of cum and slick, then moved down to Phil’s cock, sucking him clean with long, filthy strokes. When she was done, she knelt back, mouth sticky and eyes glazed.

“Thank you, my lady knight. Thank you for letting this humble wench serve you and her husband today.”

Juliana stroked her cheek almost tenderly. “You’re learning fast, wench. Tomorrow, the duties get harder. During the midday joust show, you’re going to stand behind the stage holding my spare gauntlets while I fuck your husband quick and rough. Anyone could walk by. And you still won’t touch your cunt. Not until I give permission.”

Savannah whimpered, clit throbbing so hard it was almost painful. She was soaked, desperate, and humiliated, cunt aching for anything.

Juliana smiled down at her. “Now, both of you. Dress. Go back to your camper and sleep. No fucking each other tonight. Save everything for me. Wench duties continue at first light.”

Savannah and Phil staggered out of the tent, legs shaking. The night air hit Savannah’s sweaty skin, her cunt still throbbing with denied need. Phil’s hand brushed hers, and both of them shivered, too worked up to even look at each other.

Back in the camper, they stripped and tangled up together, but didn’t dare fuck. Savannah kept her hands above the blanket, Phil lying stiff beside her, cock hard and leaking. They whispered filthy promises about tomorrow—about standing guard, about holding armor while Juliana used him in front of everyone, about how Savannah’s cunt was getting wetter just thinking about being a useless, obedient wench.

When sleep finally dragged her under, Savannah dreamed of sweat, steel, and the breastplate crushing her tits while Juliana fucked her husband over and over, making Savannah watch and ache.

She woke before dawn, cunt already soaked and aching for whatever filthy job Juliana would give her next.

The game wasn’t a game anymore. It was her life now.

And Savannah was sinking deeper, hour by hour, loving every humiliating second.

Public-adjacent Training

Savannah woke up with her cunt already pulsing and soaked, the sheets practically glued to her thighs. Her dreams had been a fever blur of clanking armor, calloused hands grabbing her, and Juliana’s low, mocking laugh echoing while Phil whimpered like a kicked dog. She slid her fingers down, found herself dripping, but yanked her hand away before she could even circle her clit. The knight hadn’t given her permission. That one rule was like a branding iron, hotter than anything else she’d ever felt.

Phil was already awake, his cock hard and drooling a wet patch onto his thigh, eyes wild and desperate. "Sav... I can't stop thinking about it. About just lying there like a fucktoy while she bounces on my cock and you kneel there, watching, not allowed to do a damn thing."

Savannah leaned over and kissed him, slow and filthy, tasting the ghost of Juliana’s cunt on both their tongues. "Good. Don’t you dare waste a drop. Today we’re her little servants behind the stage at the joust. I’ll be standing there like a useless slut, holding her gauntlets, while she fucks you right where anyone could wander by and see your cock buried in her."

They dressed in a hurry. Savannah squeezed herself into the shortest, trashiest wench dress she owned—no bra, no panties, just tits and cunt one gust away from flashing the whole faire. Phil pulled on some pathetic merchant linen that did nothing to hide the twitching outline of his cock. They grabbed their little basket of supplies: mead, rags, oil, and a fresh cloth for Savannah to kneel on like the obedient cumrag she was becoming.

Juliana was waiting behind the main stage, in a pathetic excuse for privacy—a strip of grass barely hidden by sagging canvas and a few crates, close enough to the crowd that Savannah could hear the roar of idiots getting ready for the joust. Juliana stood there in half her armor, sweat already trickling down her neck, looking like she was about to fuck or kill someone, maybe both.

“On time. Good.” She pointed at the ground. “Wench. Kneel there and hold my spare gauntlets across your lap. Scholar. Drop your breeches and lean against that crate. Hands behind your head. You don’t move them.”

Savannah dropped to her knees on the cloth, the heavy gauntlets dumped across her bare thighs, cold steel biting into her skin. Phil shoved his breeches down and his cock popped out, already drooling like a dog at the dinner table. He pressed his back to the crate, hands behind his head, hips thrust out like he was offering up his cock for sacrifice.

Juliana unbuckled just enough of her lower armor to free her cunt. She stepped close to Phil, grabbed his cock, and rubbed the head through her slick folds once, twice, then sank down in one smooth thrust. Phil groaned loud enough that Savannah’s eyes darted toward the canvas wall. The crowd noise swelled, but anyone walking the wrong way could hear.

Juliana started riding him like she was trying to break his cock in half, no warmup, just raw, brutal fucking. Her armored thighs flexed with every slam, the wet slap of cunt on cock echoing over the distant cheers. Savannah knelt so close she could see every inch of her husband’s cock vanish into the knight’s cunt, over and over, while she clutched the gauntlets like a good little prop.

“Eyes on us, wench,” Juliana growled without breaking rhythm. “Watch how deep I take him. Watch how wet your husband makes my cunt.”

Savannah stared, eyes glued to the mess. She could see Juliana’s cunt lips stretched tight around Phil’s cock, froth building with every slam, Phil’s balls drawing up like he was about to blow at any second. Savannah’s own cunt was leaking a puddle onto the cloth, but she didn’t dare move her hands from the steel, not unless she wanted to get slapped for being a disobedient slut.

A loud cheer went up from the crowd as the joust began. Juliana fucked Phil harder, using the noise to cover her own rough grunts. “Hear that, scholar? They’re cheering while I ride your cock behind their backs. Your wife is kneeling right here holding my gauntlets like a good little attendant, and your cock is buried in my cunt.”

Phil whimpered, hands twitching behind his head. “Please, my lady… I’m so close…”

“Not yet.” Juliana slammed down once more, then lifted completely off. Phil’s cock bobbed, angry and shiny. “Wench. Clean him. Then clean me. Quick.”

Savannah shuffled forward on her knees. She took Phil’s cock into her mouth, sucking the thick mix of Juliana’s juices off him in long, greedy strokes. Then she turned and pressed her face between the knight’s thighs, licking the dripping cunt clean. The taste was stronger now, mixed with fresh sweat from the armor.

Juliana patted her head. “Good girl. Back in position.”

Savannah crawled back to her knees, gauntlets heavy in her lap. Juliana dropped onto Phil’s cock again, fucking him with the same savage rhythm. This time, she reached down and pinched Savannah’s nipples through the bodice, hard enough to make her yelp like a kicked puppy.

“Feel that wench? Every time I pinch you, I want you to thank me out loud. Quietly. No one else hears but us.”

Savannah moaned softly. “Thank you, my lady knight.”

Juliana pinched harder, twisting. “Again.”

“Thank you, my lady knight.”

The crowd exploded as a lance shattered, Juliana using the noise to fuck Phil even harder, one hand still locked on Savannah’s tit, pinching and twisting in time with every brutal thrust. Savannah’s cunt was spasming, leaking down her thighs, so close to coming just from the humiliation, the pain, and the sight of her husband getting used like a rentboy, but she didn’t dare touch herself. Not unless she wanted to get punished.

Phil was shaking now, his hips twitching as he fought the urge to thrust. “My lady… please… I can’t hold it…”

Juliana slammed down and ground hard. “You will hold it. Your wench is going to learn how wet she gets when her husband is denied for my pleasure.”

Juliana rode him right up to the edge again, then yanked off, leaving Phil’s cock twitching and angry. Savannah scrambled forward, tongue out, licking every drop of mess from Phil’s cock, then shoving her face between Juliana’s thighs to slurp up the fresh gush of cunt juice. She swallowed everything, desperate and greedy.

When she finished, Juliana grabbed her by the hair and pulled her face up. “Look at me, wench. Tell your husband how much you love kneeling here, holding my gauntlets while I use his cock behind the stage.”

Savannah’s voice came out raw, soaked in need. "I fucking love it, Phil. I love kneeling here like your pathetic little wench while she fucks you. I love holding her armor and watching her cunt swallow your cock. My cunt’s making a puddle on the ground and I’m not even allowed to touch myself. I’m just here to watch and drool."

Juliana smiled darkly and shoved Savannah back to her knees. She mounted Phil again, riding even harder. The canvas wall fluttered as someone walked past on the other side, laughing with friends. The risk sent a fresh gush down Savannah’s thighs.

Juliana fucked Phil through two more brutal edges, each time yanking off and making Savannah crawl over to clean up the mess with her mouth. By the end, Savannah’s jaw was aching, her knees were raw, and her cunt felt like a hollow, dripping hole begging to be filled.

Finally, during a particularly loud cheer from the crowd, Juliana rode Phil without mercy. “Now scholar. Fill me. Give me every drop while your wife watches.”

Phil howled and jerked up, blasting thick ropes of cum into Juliana’s cunt. Juliana ground down, coming with him, thighs shaking, armor rattling like a tin can. When she finally pulled off, cum oozed out of her stretched hole in fat, sloppy streams.

“Clean it all, wench. Every drop. Then thank me for letting you serve in public today.”

Savannah dove in, licking and sucking like a starving animal. She swallowed mouthful after mouthful of Phil’s cum and Juliana’s cream, straight from the source, not caring how filthy she looked. She moved to Phil’s cock, cleaning him until he was limp and glistening. Only then did she sit back, gauntlets still heavy in her lap, mouth sticky with their mess.

“Thank you, my lady knight. Thank you for letting this worthless wench hold your gauntlets while you fucked my husband behind the stage. Thank you for letting me clean your cunt afterward.”

Juliana stroked her hair again. “You’re becoming a very good attendant. Tonight, after the evening show, we’re going to the stocks behind the tavern. You’re going to stand guard while I fuck him there, too. And tomorrow… tomorrow the duties get even more public.”

She buckled her armor back into place and left them there without another word.

Savannah and Phil just sat there, stunned and sticky. Phil’s cock twitched, still hungry even after dumping a load. Savannah’s cunt throbbed, swollen and hollow. They dressed in silence, hands brushing, every touch sending a jolt straight to their raw nerves.

The rest of the day crawled by in delicious agony. Every time Savannah bent over at the booth, she felt the air on her soaked cunt, half-expecting someone to notice the wet streaks on her thighs. Every time Phil looked at her, they both remembered the gauntlets, the risk, the taste of cum still lingering on her tongue.

By evening, they were both aching, desperate, and broken in like obedient pets.

When Juliana appeared again after the final show and crooked her finger, they followed without hesitation.

The stocks waited behind the tavern, dimly lit and dangerously close to drunken revelers. Juliana pointed.

“Wench. Stand right there and hold my spare vambraces. Scholar. Hands in the stocks. Ass out. You’re going to get fucked while anyone walking past the alley can hear.”

Savannah grabbed the heavy steel and hugged it to her chest like a shield. Phil locked his wrists into the stocks, bent over, ass out, ready to be used. Juliana stepped up behind him, unbuckled just enough, and rammed her strap-on deep into his ass in one brutal thrust. Phil moaned like a whore.

Juliana fucked him rough and deep, the stocks creaking with every slam. Savannah stood inches away, clutching the vambraces, forced to watch the knight claim her husband’s ass in plain view, while drunken idiots laughed just a few steps away.

Every thrust made Phil groan louder, every pathetic sound making Savannah’s cunt clench and leak. Juliana reached over and pinched Savannah’s nipples again, just to remind her who was in charge.

“Tell him, wench. Tell him how pretty he looks getting fucked in the stocks while you hold my armor.”

Savannah’s voice trembled. "You look so fucking pretty, Phil. Taking her cock so deep while I stand here like your useless wench. My cunt’s dripping just watching you get used like a slut."

Juliana laughed and pounded him harder. When she finally let him come, Phil shot his load onto the filthy ground, never even touching his cock. Juliana ordered Savannah to get on her knees and lick every drop from the dirt while she watched, smirking.

By the time they staggered back to the camper, Savannah’s knees were scraped raw, her nipples ached, and her cunt felt like it was going to explode from being denied all night.

She was the wench now, through and through.

And every filthy new duty just made her cunt wetter for the next round.

The Knight Claims Her Prize

The last night of the Faire hung over everything like a thick, horny fog. The air reeked of woodsmoke, greasy meat, and that sharp, dirty tang of sweat and old armor. Lanterns dangled from every tent pole, throwing weird, twitching shadows across the muddy lanes. Most of the vendors were already packing up, but Savannah and Phil dragged their feet, every step making Savannah wince from the raw, fucked-out ache in her knees and the constant, humiliating slickness between her thighs. She hadn’t been allowed to cum since the first morning—not even once. Her cunt was swollen, empty, and so hypersensitive that even the brush of her dress against her clit made her whimper like a needy slut.

Juliana hunted them down at their booth just after sunset, still stomping around in full plate except for the helmet. Her dark hair was plastered to her forehead with sweat, and her eyes had that same hungry, wolfish look that made Savannah’s stomach twist and her cunt clench up, desperate and empty.

“Scholar. Wench. The Faire is almost over. Tonight I claim my prize properly. Bring the basket and follow.”

They walked in silence to the same private tent behind the lists. Inside, Juliana lit two lanterns and closed the flap tight. The canvas walls glowed warm and golden, but the sounds of the final revels still filtered through, faint cheers and distant music.

Juliana sat on the edge of the table and pointed at the ground. “Wench. Kneel. Hands behind your back. You do not move them, no matter what you see or hear. Scholar. Strip completely. Then come here and undress me. Slowly. Make it worshipful.”

Phil’s hands shook like he was about to piss himself as he stripped, his cock already drooling pre-cum down his thigh. He shuffled up to Juliana and started fumbling with her armor, peeling it off piece by piece. Savannah knelt just like she was told, back straight, tits shoved up and out by the bodice, hands locked behind her like a good little showpiece. She stared at every buckle, every strap, watching Phil’s fingers brush over hot, sweat-slick skin as he exposed the knight’s body, muscle by muscle, bruise by bruise.

When Juliana finally stood naked, she looked like some musclebound sex goddess, all sweat and scars and bruises from the day’s jousts, every mark making her look even more fuckable. She grabbed a fistful of Phil’s hair and yanked him down between her thighs, spreading them wide like she was about to devour him.

“Start with my cunt scholar. Get me dripping. Your wife is going to watch every lick.”

Phil pressed his mouth to her immediately. Loud wet sounds filled the tent as he licked and sucked with desperate hunger. Juliana sighed and rolled her hips, grinding against his face while she looked straight at Savannah.

“Look at him, wench. On his knees for me again. His cock is leaking all over the straw because he loves serving a real knight. And you… You’re just the attendant. Kneeling there, dripping and denied.”

Savannah was panting, her breath coming in desperate little gasps. Her nipples throbbed against the bodice, aching to be touched. She watched Phil’s tongue disappear into Juliana’s cunt, saw his throat working as he swallowed down her slick like a starving man. Savannah’s own cunt clenched and pulsed, useless and empty, leaking down her thighs.

Juliana fucked Phil’s face for long minutes, then pushed him back. “On the table scholar. On your back. Legs wide. Tonight I’m taking everything.”

Phil scrambled onto the table. Juliana climbed over him and sank down onto his cock in one smooth motion. She rode him slow and deep, letting Savannah see every inch disappear. Then she beckoned.

“Wench. Come closer. Hold my tits while I ride him. Keep them bouncing for your husband to watch.”

Savannah staggered up on shaky knees and shuffled to the side of the table. She reached around Juliana and grabbed those heavy tits, feeling the heat and sweat and the way they filled her hands. She squeezed and lifted them, making them bounce and jiggle with every slam of Juliana’s hips. The wet, filthy slap of cunt on cock echoed through the tent.

Juliana leaned back against Savannah’s chest and moaned. “That’s it, wench. Feel how full your husband makes me. Feel how wet I am around his cock.”

Savannah felt every brutal thrust through Juliana’s body, every clench and shudder. Her own cunt was leaking down her thighs in sticky, humiliating streams. She pinched Juliana’s nipples harder, just the way the knight liked, and got a rough, animal groan for her trouble.

After a while, Juliana lifted off Phil’s cock. It glistened with her cream and throbbed angrily. “Wench. Clean him. Then lick my ass while I sit on his face. I want to feel your tongue everywhere tonight.”

Savannah dropped to her knees like the obedient slut she was. She swallowed Phil’s cock, sucking hungrily, her mouth flooded with Juliana’s thick, musky taste. When his cock was shiny and clean, she crawled behind Juliana, who was already lowering her ass onto Phil’s face. Savannah spread those perfect, muscular cheeks and shoved her tongue against Juliana’s asshole, licking slow and deep while the knight ground down, using both of them at once.

The sounds were filthy—wet, sloppy sucking from Phil’s mouth, Savannah’s own desperate moans buzzing against Juliana’s asshole. The knight rode Phil’s tongue harder and harder until she came with a guttural growl, her asshole spasming around Savannah’s tongue.

Juliana finally stood up, her thighs slick with spit and cum, looking down at Savannah with that dark, smug satisfaction that made Savannah’s cunt twitch with humiliation.

“On the table, wench. On your back. Legs spread wide. You’re going to hold your own tits up for me while your husband fucks me from behind. I want you to watch his cock disappear into my cunt while you stay denied.”

Savannah crawled up onto the table, lay back, and spread her thighs wide, grabbing her own tits and squeezing them together just the way Juliana liked. She was completely exposed, her cunt dripping and swollen, on display for everyone. Phil moved behind Juliana, and the knight shoved his cock back inside her, riding him reverse so Savannah had a front-row seat to every filthy thrust.

Every thrust made Phil’s cock disappear deep inside Juliana, her cunt stretched wide around him, creamy mess coating his shaft and dripping down his balls. Savannah held her tits up higher, pinching her own nipples until they burned, desperate for any kind of relief.

“Look at your wife, scholar,” Juliana ordered between moans. “Look how wet and desperate she is. She’s holding her tits like a good wench while I take your cock. Tell her how much you love fucking me instead of her.”

Phil’s voice cracked. “I love it, Sav… I love fucking her cunt while you watch. You look so beautiful like this… so fucking wet and denied.”

Juliana laughed and slammed down harder. “Good boy. Now fuck me like you mean it. Make me come on your cock while your wife stays empty.”

Phil grabbed Juliana’s hips and started slamming up into her, making the whole table rattle. Savannah squeezed her tits tighter, eyes glued to every savage stroke. Her cunt clenched uselessly around nothing, leaking all over the wood beneath her. She was so close just from watching, from the filthy words and the humiliation, but she didn’t dare let her hands stray lower.

Juliana came first, her cunt squeezing tight around Phil’s cock as she ground down with a raw, animal cry. When she finally lifted off, thick white cum poured out of her in messy streams, dripping down her thighs and onto the table.

“Clean me, wench. Then clean him. After that, you’re going to thank me for claiming your husband completely.”

Savannah sat up and shoved her face between Juliana’s thighs, licking and sucking greedily, swallowing every drop of cum that oozed from the knight’s well-fucked cunt. Then she crawled over to Phil and took his spent, sticky cock into her mouth, cleaning him off while Juliana watched with that smug, satisfied grin.

When both were spotless, Savannah knelt on the floor and looked up at the knight.

“Thank you, my lady knight. Thank you for claiming my husband’s cock. Thank you for using him while I served as your wench. Thank you for leaving me denied and dripping.”

Juliana stroked her cheek. “You’ve been a very good girl tonight, wench. Tomorrow is the last day. One final duty. Then we’ll see what’s left of both of you when the Faire ends.”

She dressed and left them there.

Savannah and Phil stumbled back to the camper, barely able to walk. They collapsed onto the bed, still shaking. Savannah’s cunt throbbed so badly she cried silent, humiliated tears of frustration, but she kept her hands above the blanket like a good, denied slut. Phil held her close, his cock soft but twitching against her thigh, both of them ruined and aching.

They whispered about tomorrow, about the final humiliating duty, about how far Savannah had fallen—how she’d become the knight’s dripping, desperate wench and loved every filthy second of it.

Sleep finally dragged them under, but Savannah dreamed of steel, sweat, and endless streams of cum, the heavy, aching weight of being used and owned.

She woke before dawn, her cunt already soaked and twitching, desperate for whatever filthy thing the knight would demand next.

The claiming was almost finished—Savannah was nearly ruined, and she wanted it more than anything.

And Savannah had never felt more alive.

The Wench’s New Place

The last day of the Faire arrived, the sun already a bastard, burning through the thin walls of the camper. Savannah woke up with her cunt pulsing, a needy, insistent ache that had been building for days. Not a single orgasm. Not even a mercy rub. Every shift of her hips made her swollen lips grind together, smearing slick down her thighs. Her nipples were red and tender from being twisted and yanked, and her knees were marked with faint bruises from hours spent kneeling in straw and on dirt. She felt ruined. Fucked out. Exactly how she was supposed to be.

Phil was next to her, breathing in shallow, horny little gasps, his cock already half-hard and drooling against his thigh even while he slept. Savannah wanted nothing more than to climb on top of him and fuck herself raw, to grind out the orgasm she’d been denied for days, but she didn’t. The knight hadn’t given her permission. That rule was iron, the only thing that mattered anymore.

They dressed without a word. Savannah picked the sluttiest wench dress she had, the one with a bodice that barely kept her tits from spilling out and a skirt so short that her shaved cunt was one gust of wind away from being on display for the whole Faire. Phil put on his merchant costume, but they both knew it was just for show. He’d be naked and used soon enough.

Juliana waited for them at the private tent behind the lists one final time. She stood in full armor except for the helmet. Her dark eyes swept over them, slowly taking in Savannah’s flushed cheeks and the obvious wet spot already forming on the front of her dress.

“Today is the last day,” Juliana said. “Tonight the Faire ends. Before it does, I will take everything. Wench. Bring the basket inside. Scholar. Strip and wait on your knees.”

They obeyed without hesitation.

Inside the tent, Juliana stripped off her armor herself, slow and deliberate, making sure they watched every piece come off. When she was finally naked, she pointed at the filthy straw on the ground.

“Scholar. On your back. Hands above your head. Do not move them.”

Phil lay down, his cock jutting up, already leaking pre-cum like a broken faucet. Juliana climbed onto his chest, her cunt glistening and hanging just out of reach of his mouth, making him stare at it, hungry.

“Wench. Come here. Hold my ass open while your husband eats me. I want his tongue deep before I ride his cock one last time.”

Savannah dropped to her knees behind the knight, grabbing Juliana’s ass and spreading her open, exposing every filthy inch. She watched as Phil’s tongue disappeared into the slick mess between Juliana’s legs. The tent filled with the obscene sounds of sucking and slurping. Juliana moaned, grinding her cunt down on Phil’s face while Savannah held her wide, nothing left to the imagination.

After long minutes, Juliana lifted off. “Enough. Now, wench, you’re going to guide his cock into me. Then you’re going to hold my tits and tell me how much you love watching me take what used to be yours.”

Savannah’s hands trembled as she grabbed Phil’s slippery cock, lining it up with Juliana’s soaked cunt. She watched, mesmerized, as the knight sank down, swallowing his cock inch by inch until her ass was flush against his hips. Savannah moved behind her, grabbing Juliana’s tits, squeezing them together like she was offering them up for worship.

“I love it, my lady,” Savannah whispered, voice cracking. “I love watching you ride my husband’s cock. I love being the wench who holds your tits while you take him. My cunt is empty and dripping, and I wouldn’t change it.”

Juliana started slow, grinding her hips in deep, lazy circles, making sure Savannah could feel every movement through the knight’s body. Then she sped up, slamming down hard, the sound of wet flesh smacking echoing in the tent. Phil’s hands stayed glued above his head, just like he’d been told, but his hips jerked up, desperate for more.

Juliana reached back and grabbed Savannah’s hair. She yanked her forward until Savannah’s face was pressed against the side of her neck.

“Tell him, wench. Tell your husband he belongs to me now.”

Savannah’s voice broke. “You belong to her, Phil. Your cock belongs to the knight. I’m just the wench who serves while she uses you.”

Phil let out a guttural groan. Juliana fucked him harder, one fist tangled in Savannah’s hair, the other hand working her own clit like she was trying to tear it off, never slowing down.

When Juliana came, it was brutal. Her cunt spasmed around Phil’s cock, squeezing him so tight he almost screamed, and she ground down, soaking him in a fresh gush of slick. She didn’t stop. She just kept riding, chasing another orgasm like a bitch in heat.

“Hold my tits tighter, wench,” she growled. “Pinch the nipples. Make them hurt while I take the last of his cum.”

Savannah obeyed. She pinched and twisted the thick nipples until Juliana cried out and came again. Only then did the knight finally lift off Phil’s cock.

Phil’s cock was a shiny, angry mess, coated in spit, cum, and whatever else Juliana had wrung out of him. Juliana stared down at Savannah, eyes hungry.

“Clean us both, wench. Thoroughly. Then you’re going to thank me for claiming him completely.”

Savannah buried her face between Juliana’s thighs, licking and sucking every filthy drop of cum and girl juice from the knight’s ruined cunt. Then she crawled over to Phil, swallowing his cock, cleaning him with slow, greedy strokes until there wasn’t a trace of mess left.

When she finished, she knelt back on her heels and looked up at the knight.

“Thank you, my lady knight. Thank you for claiming my husband’s cock. Thank you for turning me into your wench. Thank you for leaving me denied and dripping and happier than I’ve ever been.”

Juliana smiled slowly and was satisfied. She stroked Savannah’s cheek almost gently.

“You’ve both learned your places. But we’re not quite finished. Tonight, after the final show, we go to the stocks one last time. This time you’re going to do more than hold my armor wench. You’re going to spread my ass while I ride him, and you’re going to beg me to let you clean every drop afterward. Then we’ll see what’s left of the two of you when the Faire ends.”

The rest of the day was a blur of humiliation and need. Savannah hawked tankards with her cunt dripping down her thighs, barely able to focus. Phil tried to sell trinkets, but every time he looked at a customer, his cock twitched, remembering the taste of Juliana, the ache of denial. Every glance between them was a filthy secret.

When the final show ended and the crowds began to thin, Juliana appeared again. She led them to the stocks behind the tavern. The area was darker tonight, with only a single lantern swinging overhead. Drunken laughter still drifted from the tavern, but the alley felt more private and somehow more dangerous.

“Scholar. Hands in the stocks. Ass out.”

Phil locked himself in. Juliana unbuckled just enough and drove her thick strap-on deep into his ass in one thrust. Phil moaned loudly. Juliana fucked him hard and deep, the stocks creaking with every slam.

“Wench. On your knees behind me. Spread my ass and lick my cunt while I fuck him. I want to feel your tongue the entire time.”

Savannah hit her knees, spreading Juliana’s ass wide, burying her face in the knight’s soaked cunt. She licked and sucked, matching every savage thrust Juliana gave Phil’s ass. The taste was obscene—sweat, cum, and raw, animal need.

Juliana fucked Phil mercilessly. “Beg, wench. Beg me to let you clean every drop when I’m done.”

Savannah moaned into Juliana’s cunt. “Please, my lady knight… please let me clean your cunt and his ass when you’re finished. Please let this wench swallow everything.”

Juliana came with a rough cry, grinding back against Savannah’s face. She kept fucking Phil until he spilled onto the ground beneath the stocks without touching himself. Only then did she pull out.

“Clean it all, wench. Every drop. From my cunt, from his ass, from the ground. Then thank me one last time.”

Savannah licked like a starving animal, swallowing every drop from Juliana’s cunt, then moving to Phil’s used-up ass, cleaning him out with her tongue. She even licked the cum from the filthy ground under the stocks, lower than any wench had ever been.

When she finished, she knelt back and looked up at the knight with tears of overwhelming need in her eyes.

“Thank you, my lady knight. Thank you for breaking us. Thank you for making me your wench. I don’t want to go back to who I was. I only want to serve.”

Juliana stroked her hair for a long moment. Then she helped Phil out of the stocks and looked at them both.

“The Faire is over. But your service isn’t. Next year you’ll return as my personal attendants. The scholar will warm my cunt and ass whenever I want. The wench will hold my armor, clean my messes, and stay denied until I decide she’s earned release. Understand?”

Savannah and Phil nodded together. “Yes, my lady knight.”

They trudged back to the camper, silent, broken in all the right ways. Inside, they stripped and tangled together, but still didn’t fuck. Savannah’s cunt throbbed with a need so deep it hurt. Phil held her, his cock limp but twitching against her leg, both of them ruined and wanting.

They had come to the Faire as a history-buff couple running a booth.

They were leaving as the knight’s wench and her devoted scholar.

Fucked. Changed.

Owned.

And desperate for the next time the armor came off and the real work began again.