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Madeleine
She was the daughter of the Count De Montagne, close to the king and virtually untouchable. Tales of her virginity and the means to rectify that unfortunate state were heard around the fires of the soldiers from here to Mont Pelliere, where the Count’s younger sister took center stage with her insatiable appetites.
Ah, but she was so beautiful, my Madeleine. I watched her as a Companion watches over his ward. I watched her also, as a man who loved her. I’m sure there are countless such claims across France, but I knew in my heart that she and I had been down this path of love before. That other lifetimes had been spent in each other’s arms. She looked at me and all of eternity opened up in her eyes. The promises of love were unmistakable.
Sadly, with my station in life and in the Count’s guard, I was in no position to ask her father for her hand. My family were refined yes, but no where near the breeding needed for such a marriage. I understood this and accepted my role in her life. I accepted the time we could spend together. I accepted that I would always love her from afar.
I did not expect that I would be allowed one glorious night with her. My Madeleine. One night, made from the gossmer wings of Venus’ own cherubs. That night is eternally burned into my memory, more alive that ever. I shall never forget it….
Suddenly, pulling back, her eyes lusty with desire, she ripped the bodice of her gown and let it fall from her body, leaving her clad only in her lace undergarments. I gasped, overwhelmed with the heat at my groin, my manhood straining against my hose.
I took her in my arms, her body weightless in my passion. Pulling her lace under-bodice aside, I nibbled at her already-stiff nipple, its delights that which every man in these parts dreamed of, but I had between my lips tonight. She sighed delightedly as her hands roamed my shoulders, fluttering aimlessly in her desire.
I moved my lips softly down her body, murmuring her name over and over while I savored the unblemished velvet skin. She opened her legs wide, inviting me to partake of the most precious of sustenance. She knew she was driving me mad with lust, love and all manner of emotion. I licked the perfect skin, moving closer and closer to her womanhood.
I could smell her scent. Its heady perfume sending me soaring. I could feel her on my tongue even before I tasted her. I was near insanity as my lips finally touched the moisture between her legs. I groaned, licking and tasting all that I could of her. I sucked gently at her little bud, urging it to fullness and beyond. I manipulated her moans and sighs as a puppeteer manipulates his marionettes.
I spent many moments bringing her to the edge of her orgasm and then letting it recede, leaving her begging me for release. She finally moved away slightly, turning her body so that she could put my organ in her mouth. Her licking and sucking drove me wild, as my tongue lapped at her juices.
Finally, when neither of us could take anymore, I turned, pulled her to me, pushed her legs up around my waist and sunk my cock swiftly and completely into her. I encountered her maidenhead and pushed hard, trembling with desire as she bit my shoulder to keep from crying out at the lusty invasion.
We rocked hard against each other, neither willing to release our embrace, even to rest a moment. We spun and soared through the heavens of ecstasy and back again. Our bodies strained against each other, trying to pull each other into our very souls. I held her, savoring each moment. Each touch.
And when we could no longer contain our passion, we looked deep into each other’s eyes, wanting to cry out the other’s name and not being able to. I felt my orgasm grip me from my balls, releasing itself into her womanhood. Pumping hard as I came, I felt her body tighten around me and spasm into orgasm. She clutched me tightly as she came, wave after wave, sweeping her briefly from me and to the depths of animal passion.
I held her as her body began to relax, her orgasm and mine mixed with the fluids of her virginity. Her future remained secure. Her future husband would not object to the deflowering, more being grateful the task was complete.
She lay before me, a goddess. Spent in her lust and flushed with it. I gazed into those magnificent green eyes and knew that I would love her forever.
2003 V Drake
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February 17, 2026 at 12am to February 5, 2027 at 12am – where & how you choose
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Patchwork Merchant Mercenaries had its humble beginnings as an idea of a few artisans and craftsmen who enjoy performing with live steel fighting. As well as a patchwork quilt tent canvas. Most had prior military experience hence the name.
Patchwork Merchant Mercenaries.
Vendertainers that brought many things to a show and are know for helping out where ever they can.
As well as being a place where the older hand made items could be found made by them and enjoyed by all.
We expanded over the years to become well known at what we do. Now we represent over 100 artisans and craftsman that are well known in their venues and some just starting out. Some of their works have been premiered in TV, stage and movies on a regular basis.
Specializing in Medieval, Goth , Stage Film, BDFSM and Practitioner.
Patchwork Merchant Mercenaries a Dept of, Ask For IT was started by artists and former military veterans, and sword fighters, representing over 100 artisans, one who made his living traveling from fair to festival vending medieval wares. The majority of his customers are re-enactors, SCAdians and the like, looking to build their kit with period clothing, feast gear, adornments, etc.
Likewise, it is typical for these history-lovers to peruse the tent (aka mobile store front) and, upon finding something that pleases the eye, ask "Is this period?"
A deceitful query!! This is not a yes or no question. One must have a damn good understanding of European history (at least) from the fall of Rome to the mid-1600's to properly answer. Taking into account, also, the culture in which the querent is dressed is vitally important. You see, though it may be well within medieval period, it would be strange to see a Viking wearing a Caftan...or is it?
After a festival's time of answering weighty questions such as these, I'd sleep like a log! Only a mad man could possibly remember the place and time for each piece of kitchen ware, weaponry, cloth, and chain within a span of 1,000 years!! Surely there must be an easier way, a place where he could post all this knowledge...
Traveling Within The World is meant to be such a place. A place for all of these artists to keep in touch and directly interact with their fellow geeks and re-enactment hobbyists, their clientele.
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