Handbook of Erotic Fantasy: Knightly Virtue (Patreon)

The sound of moaning voices echoed from the hallowed halls. The smell of wine wafted through. The haft of her spear was not its usual, reassuring presence, gripped and regripped with practiced hands. For tonight was the night of her yearly vigil. And Cavalier longed to fuck her fellow knights into oblivion.

“What’s this? Still at your post? Will you not sport with us?”

She kept her eyes straight ahead, as she had sworn to do. “My vigil has not yet ended,” she said.

Pairs of figures passed her by, each carrying their burden. Some supported coil after coil of heavy silk rope. Others shouldered time-worn beams between them, all of smooth timbers and supple leather, dark and freshly oiled. There was the maiden's tower; the saw horse; the spoiler bench; planetar’s pillory; accuser’s chair; height-adjustable air bounce saddle with multifunction elastic bands. Cavalier licked her lips.

“Art thou not thirsty?” asked one of the passing porters.

“Extremely,” she admitted. “But still, my vigil has not ended.”

The king tides had come to the Roaring Archipelago. The great snapping turtles had all returned to the sea, there to glide beneath silvered waves and greet the encroaching moon. In another season, the shores would team with their children, and some few squires might earn their banners and their helms in turn. The ranks of the knights would swell. But in the meantime, as the order chivalrous awaited the return of their steeds, they passed their days as they had ever done.

“And now, the joust!” cried a distant voice. “Lancers, to your marks.”

The lay-on was called. A bolt of longing shot through the dutiful knight. And as the shouts of victors and cries of the defeated alike sounded throughout those chambers, as her thighs rubbed one against another, and as every atom of the oread ached for her turn at the ‘tilt,’ Cavalier strove mightily to keep her mind upon her duties. For it would not do to leave the Order of the Shell without a sentry. One at least had to abstain each night, and she would not shirk her calling.

“My vigil has not ended,” she chanted. “My vigil has not ended.” And she prayed fervently for the dawn.