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~Bedded	By : keithcompany Category: Titles in the Public Domain > Gulliver's Travels Views: 3079 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work fiction, based on Gullivers Travels by Jonathan Swift. Any resemblance to person(s) living or dead is purely coincidental.

Chapter List
- 1-Bedded
- 2-Two
- 3-Three
- 4-4
- 3
- 4
With a wide smile, Ematrice said, "He didn't."
"And that was this morning?" Jess asked. Ema nodded. "And he accomplished all of this before the maids arrived?"
"Oh, he gave the maids the morning off so he could spend it having sex with me."
"EEK!" One of the women embroidering a new shirt with the King's livery sucked her finger until the blood stopped.
Akkel lifted only one eyebrow. "Are you telling us you spent the morning, in daylight, being… kissed… by the Prince?"
"It was his idea, your highness. He was most insistent. And, to be honest, I kissed him as well."
"Good," Akkel nodded.
"Just…just…just how…extensive was this kissing?" Fissled asked.
"He never went below my knees, ma'am," Ema said. "Although I couldn't help but go below his a time or two."
"No, no, I mean… When you say 'kiss,' was that… Well." She looked around hopelessly. The Queen looked back patiently. Her sister, the Abbess, looked back with an expectant smile. "I mean. What did he…do?"
"And what with?" Lady Shealsz added.
"And did he get lost?" Lady Pijall added.
"That's why we did it in daylight," Ema said with a nod.
"So you could find him," Akkel nodded.
"No, ma'am, so he could see his landmarks."
The Abbess cackled and had to ask for a drink of water. A serving girl fetched the pitcher.
"I could never do it strong lighting," Lady Shealz said with a shake of her head. Since she was single, all eyes turned to face her. "I mean, if, um, when I DO it, it'll be in the dark, nice and proper."
"I just got tired of him yelling at me to hold the light closer," Ema said. "And VERY tired of hot wax dripping onto my-"
"OW! DAMMIT!" Jess interrupted. She grabbed a scrap of cloth and held it to her palm. The younger women rose to help her keep from bleeding onto the garments.
When order was restored, the Queen scooted a bit on the loveseat she occupied. "Come and sit by me, Ematrice," she offered. "I want your opinion on this embroidery."
"Yes, ma'am," Ema said. She stood. "Just a moment, though. I think he's tiring."
Everyone looked around the room, wondering who 'he' was and what he was tiring of. Ema pulled out the collar of her blouse and looked down into her underclothes. "Husband? Are you through? Or overcome?"
I sat in a small fold between the cups of her brassiere. I wore my underclothes only and the heat of her body had caused quite a bit of sweating. The small peephole cut just above a button hardly allowed any air to circulate.
Her arm entered my view and slid past me. She made it look as if she was reaching down at least to her belly button. When it came back up, her fingers were curled and I swung into her grip.
She brought me out into the light, splashing my face with a drop of water from the tip of her finger. I murmured a bit but mostly lay limp in her fingers.
Then she handed me to a serving girl. "He's a little tired. Take him back to our rooms and give him to one of our maids, please."
She was sitting by Akkel's side as I was removed.
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A week later, Ematrice introduced the Queen and her ladies to backgammon. We called it counter-strike, or something very close to that in the local tongue. People started calling out 'counterstrike' to announce that they were bumping someone's disk to the bar.
It proved very popular among knitting circles in all the castles.
The King really liked the next game. I introduced yatzhee once we had a few decent suppliers of dice. We wanted to call it Fives, for five of a kind. My 'dad' figured that one for each finger was a fist, and declared it Fist Full of Win.
I never explained, even to Ematrice, why I always choked at the King shouting 'I'm really going to enjoy Fisting you,' to his opponents.
It only caught on with the higher nobles. People that could afford to assign someone to hold a wax board or a slate and keep score. The math of the game was also a bit offputting, I hear.
There were a few other games, some that caught on, some didn't.
Twenty questions never did catch on. The giants can't seem to bear keeping secrets and blurt out hints.
"Is it an animal?" they'd be asked, and reply, "Yes, a bipedal one!" or "Do you mean like a donkey? Yes, then, it's an animal. Much like a donkey."
It's good there's only one kingdom on this island, they could never defend against espionage.
Through it all, Ematrice was my loyal supporter, game tester, rules proofreader and the voice that got people's attention when I was being drowned out.
She was my partner in all respects, and we made sure the rest of the world knew it.
We did find that it was better, in the bedroom, to make sure one of us was totally in charge for any intimacies. Just safer that way.
But it didn't always have to be routine.
"Why don't you tie yourself down," I offered one morning.
"It's my turn to be in charge," she pointed out.
"And so it is," I agreed. I swept my hands towards the shelf with the leg and hand bindery.
"If I must," she complained. But her tone was teasing. She expected I'd thought up another innovation, and as I said, she was always a willing play tester..
Soon she was spread out across the bed, stripped to her nightshirt once more.
There was no shame of nudity between us anymore, but she really, really liked the feeling when I stepped from clothed to bare body parts.
Once she was comfortable, I stepped up to her ear. "Now," I said. "Command me."
"Oooh. You'll do what I say, though I'm helpless beneath you! March to my left tit and pull the covering from the nipple." I did like that she was always quick to understand my ideas.
I crawled up her shoulder. "Faster!" she ordered.
I made sure to crawl across her nipple while pushing the fabric back.
"Now the other one!" I scampered to obey. She let go of her scarves long enough to plump up her pillow for a better view.
When her bosom was bared, she had me stand on her breastbone between them. Then she directed me to strip, slowly.
I marched at her command up to her mouth, where she licked me, dousing my cock with her saliva. Then I used my cock as a brush to cover one nipple.
We did the other side, then she licked at my chest.
"Now, go to the far side of my breast and climb up it."
"The far side?" I asked, already walking down her chest.
"I want to see your face." She ordered me to grab her nipple and hug it to my spit-slick chest. I rubbed and squeezed, licking and bit it at her urging.
Then, still under her control, I scooted up and squeezed it between my thighs.
"Now, rub your cock against it," she commanded. I smiled and obeyed. I pushed myself against her, sliding it over the top of the little nub.
I wasn't really surprised when she ordered me to stop and start, playing me like a voice activated puppet.
I even got…into it. Staring up at her eyes, rolling my hips at the tempo of her snapping fingers.
I came, spurting at one of the strokes she generously granted me, my fluids mixing with hers.
She allowed me a moment to recover, then had me report for another licking. "I'm not going to be ready for another moment or-" I started to protest.
"This ISN'T for YOU," she said. Her voice was pitched low and rumbled the body under my feet. I gulped and turned to run where she sent me.
I slithered across the lips of her pussy. She told me what to rub, and how fast, and what with. Like an obscene game of twister, she had me sticking a leg straight in, rubbing a hand along the outer lips, touching my head to the hood of her clitoris and loudly humming…
Then fingers pinched my ankles together and lifted. My head stayed where it was at, I was just dangling over instead of lying across.
"Restraints!" I shouted. There was a distant giggle.
"I'm in charge and I'll restrain what needs restraining," she said. With that, she pinned my hands to my hips and lowered me, headfirst, across her lips.
She didn't push me inside her, just ran me up and down along her sex. Wetted hair like soggy ropes brushed my shoulders as I passed, licking for all I was worth.
I made a couple of passes in her grip, sliding and caressing her, licking and moaning. Then she turned me around and just pressed my body to hers.
I'd recovered by then, and technically I penetrated her. Not too deeply, and I'm not sure she could even feel my cock.
But she felt me bucking and heaving, which probably served as a focus for her imagination.
The fingers stiffened and plunged me, face first into her, my whole body tucked inside, between her lips. Then I was struggling to get out, to breathe.
I was pushing, kicking, wriggling like a fish in rapids…
Only her fingertips were touching me at that point, my hands and legs were free, and I reached everywhere I could, rubbing and caressing, desperate to please her.
She came, an upheaval to match the storm that deposited me on the shore.
She eventually subsided, lifting me to her breast and stroking my back as we both recuperated.
I started to slide and tried to grab onto her boob. I was too slick, though, and ended up down between her breasts.
She was still watching and we made eye contact.
"Thanks," she said.
"Glad to be of service, milady," I gasped. She moved the pillow and lay back. Her breathing started to slow, down to where it was when she slept.
"This'll be one hell of a story to tell the Abbess," she murmured, then slept.
-------------
For some reason, that's the day I figured the giants could play Twister. Just had the colored disks embroidered on a sturdy blanket. That was more popular with the merchant classes, as they didn't were nearly as many layers of clothing as the higher nobility were expected to wear.
And that observation brought my wardrobe to the Queen's attention. She'd assigned tailors to clothe me, but hadn't really monitored their work.
I kept basically requesting t-shirts and jeans.
Now she and her ladies were determined to make me as uncomfortable as everyone else.
It was almost like our wedding night bedding. I was stripped and measured, and each lady made sure to check her measurements several times.
At least I was usually under Ema's scrutiny, so while there was groping, it never went too far.
And there was a lot of groping. But then, it only takes one or two giant fingers to qualify as a LOT of groping.
Soon I had my public appearances closet. It was furniture shaped like formal robes.
The material was stiffly brocaded. So stiff, I could never sit down. I hung from the armpits once and couldn't get the knees to even bend. So I had Ema sew a little hammock for me.
Hey, once they placed me wherever I was going to stand, there was going to be no walking away.
They made me review the troops one time. I passed out from the heat before the officer had carried me past the first rank.
After that, my official duties were limited to opening royal tournaments for Counterstrike, Fisting ("Husband, dear, stop laughing at the Mayor's opening speech!"), Twister, Chess or Folly.
That was a game Ema made, kind of a statistical exercise in predicting die rolls. She amazed me.
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~Bedded