The Tournament (4 page)

The aspirants clambered down from the King's carriages to find the Steward waiting for them at the door.

"A Kingdom may be built by war, but it thrives on trade," said the Steward. "Morrow is famous not only for our Army, but for our crafts. Our silks and laces, our magework and porcelain. Ambassadors travel for weeks, months, sometimes even years to visit our King. Merchants travel for just as long to view the goods sold at our Guild Halls. If you will carry our King's gratitude to his craftsmen, you may enter."
 

They filed into a dim, low-ceilinged hall. Unlike the open, well-lit tent of the First Trial, the Guild Hall boasted numerous curtained partitions, screened nooks and sheltered corners. The guildsmen had gathered in little groups, and many were so absorbed in conversation that they didn't pause to watch the aspirants disrobe.
 

Ruby ducked behind the other girls to undress. She spotted the Guild Master by his gray hair and the gold chain he wore slung over his tunic. The other men varied widely in age and importance. Journeymen and apprentices, plain men of the kind that Ruby met in the streets every day, had gathered in the same room as grand merchants and skilled master craftsmen.

And that, Ruby understood, was the challenge. Most of the aspirants Ruby had arrived with lapsed into familiar habits. They knotted into small groups, imitating the guildsmen. They spoke to one another and cast suggestive glances across the room. The bold ones did little more than strike provocative poses.
 

They were citizens, after all. And these men were neighbors.
 

Ruby picked out the poorest, homeliest man present, and walked right up to him. "Will you take me into an alcove?"
 

She held out her hand.

He turned red and didn't respond immediately. Ruby blushed, sure she'd made a fool of herself, until the homely weaver stood and took her hand.
 

"You are kind," he said. "I'd like that very much."
 

The alcove held a wooden table, two benches to either side, and a leather-upholstered settee.
 

"I know how strange this will sound," said the homely weaver, "but I haven't been with a woman in a long time. It's been years since the last Tournament, and I can't afford many luxuries."

"I am not a luxury," said Ruby, taking his hands and placing them on her bare breasts. "And I chose you."
 

He squeezed, his plain, sober features softening. "You chose me," he repeated, his voice full of wonder.

He let her help him undress. Many of the men Ruby had glimpsed in the Hall wore formal attire, but her weaver possessed no finery. She cooed over him, she caressed him sweetly, and bent to suckle him when he seemed abashed by his erection. His cock was well formed, a little bulbous, and it felt good sliding into her.
 

He had strong arms but a soft middle, and poor wind. He huffed and puffed as he thrust at her, straining his way to an orgasm even with Ruby's best encouragement. Afterwards, she cleaned herself quickly and fussed over him until he scolded her.

"There's others that will be wanting your attention."
 

Ruby smiled as she slipped away. She'd wanted him to feel that he'd had
enough
. That he had taken his fill, and stopped only because
he
wanted to. And she felt good, as though she'd truly done a service.
 

Back in the dim hall, the scene had changed. The other girls were all gone. The crowd of guildsmen had thinned; by a dozen, she'd guess, though the curtained alcoves were shut tight and not much noise penetrated through the thick wool.
 

A man seated next to the Guild Master stood and approached her. He was short, sturdy, dark-complexioned. "What's your name?"
 

"Ruby." She met his eyes, fierce with carnal appetite.
 

"Follow me, Ruby."
 

He led her into an empty alcove and began removing his clothes. "Climb up on that table and spread your legs for me," he instructed.

Ruby did as he asked. She rested her feet on the benches, her legs spread wide, and teased her own nipples to tight peaks.
 

"Still wet," said the craftsman, peering between her thighs. He pulled his linen undershirt up over his neck and bent to remove his trousers. "You know how to use that cunt?"
 

"I love cock," said Ruby.

He gave her a skeptical look and lay down on his back, fully nude. He had very little body hair, a fat cock. "Climb on."
 

Ruby hopped off the bench and approached the leather settee. She straddled the guildsman. He crooked his elbows, using his hands only to prop up his head to improve his view of the action.
 

Ruby grasped his cock and positioned it herself, then lowered herself upon it. A good stretch. She moaned with pleasure.
 

"Squeeze," the guildsman instructed, grunting when she clenched her muscles around his girth. "Good. Keep it slow. That's right. Touch your breasts. Play with them. A little faster now. Good."

He issued a steady stream of commands, and Ruby followed every one. She rode him until her thighs burned. He didn't guide her, or stir himself to thrust—he lay back and watched.
 

After he came, Ruby scooted up the settee, semen dribbling out of her cunt, knelt over his head and made him watch while she fingered herself.

"Stop it," he snapped. "There's a wet rag in the corner. Clean me up."
 

"I'm going to come," Ruby warned. She worked herself furiously. "And then I'll lick it up."
 

"Don't you dare." His breath puffed on her ass. "That's not what I asked for."
 

"I'm coming," Ruby breathed, shivering as the sensation rose up her spine.
 

Beneath her, the guildsman made a noise that was at least half disgust. But by the time she'd lapped up his cum, just as she'd promised, he was hard again.
 

This time, he fucked her in the ass. He wasn't nice about it, growling as he pistoned his hips into her, but she'd broken through his reserve. When he finally spent, he collapsed over her, his chest heaving with each deep breath.
 

Ruby struggled out from underneath him, found the wet rag, and cleaned them both.

"You are hot," said the guildsman, before she slipped away. "The hottest the Tournament has ever sent to our Hall."
 

"And I bet you're the richest man here," said Ruby.

"Almost." He grinned. "Come see me after the Tournament and I'll show you."

"Next time, I'll make you lick the cum out of me," said Ruby.

"You are a vile little cunt." He laughed and shooed her away. "Go get your beads."

The guildsmen had prepared a room where the aspirants could rest and recover between bouts, and Ruby made good use of it. In the afternoon, a bevy of servants laid out a sumptuous feast, poured from endless jugs of wine, and they all sat at table together.
 

The Guild Master made a toast to the King that went on for too long, and Ruby ate with a man who told her how to make felt before he took her into an alcove and licked her pussy while he jerked himself off.
 

She couldn't call the Second Trial difficult, but she was glad to see the sunlight that limned the curtained windows turn dim and reddish as the day faded. Fucking one man after another, satisfying their needs before seeing to her own, was as exhausting as any work she'd ever done.
 

Finally the Steward signaled an end to the Trial. Ruby gathered with the other aspirants by the door, none of them as fresh or lovely as they'd been in the morning, while the Steward exchanged his final words with the Guild Master.

A new man entered the room. Richly dressed, in the prime of his life, with small sharp eyes. He took in the hall at a glance and went straight to the Guild Master, laying a hand on the older man's shoulder but directing his words to the Steward.
 

The rich guildsman who'd fucked Ruby in the ass joined the group. The four of them spoke, and the rich guildsman pointed at Ruby.

The Steward left the Guild Master and both guildsmen to rejoin the aspirants. "A guildsman who was unable to attend the celebration has just arrived. He is eager for sex." The Steward scanned the aspirants, pursing his lips. "Your service for the day is concluded. You should not feel obligated to comply. None of you. The guildsman is late, and should expect no favors."
 

"However," the Steward added, "he is a man of some importance, and the business that called him away was not trivial. For that reason, I agreed to carry his request to you. He asked to see Ruby, but if she refuses he will accept any volunteer."
 

Ruby knew the late-arriving guildsman was watching, so she didn't let her disappointment show. She smiled, sweet and complacent, and said, "I would be delighted to offer my service."
 

The Steward's shoulders relaxed slightly. "Thank you, Ruby. I'll send the others back to the Pavilion for a well-deserved rest, but I will remain behind to escort you myself."
 

The late guildsman watched her approach, then gestured her into an alcove when she was halfway across the room. She entered, as bid, and he followed soon behind.
 

"I'll be quick," he said, unlacing his breeches. "Just pull up your skirt and bend over the table. I have another meeting in an hour."
 

Ruby removed her shift and set it aside, so he wouldn't wrinkle or dirty it. Then she bent over the table.

"Are you wet? Nevermind, doesn't matter." The late guildsman spit. Into his palm, Ruby supposed. She didn't look. The guildsman fit the blunt tip of his cock into Ruby's cunt. "After the day I've had, I just need to empty my balls."
 

He took her with quick, hard thrusts that he must have learned and practiced most on his own right hand. He didn't react when she squeezed her inner muscles tight around his cock in rhythmic throbs, or when she moaned and lifted her ass for him. He just fucked her with all the finesse of a child poking an anthill with a stick. When she risked a backwards glance, his eyes were shut.
 

So she held onto the table and kept quiet. She couldn't understand why he wanted a woman instead of a few minutes alone in a dark room, but she had no business asking such questions. He wanted his cock in a woman's warm body, and she had offered hers.
 

He sped up, his hips slapping against her ass. He wasn't very big, and that made it easier to bear.
 

Ruby wiped him with a cloth after he came.
 

"Good cunt," he said, lacing up his breeches.
 

Ruby cleaned herself after he left, and put her shift back on. The Steward waited for her, as he'd promised, with a plump pearl to add to her bracelet.

"That was generous of you," he said. "The guildsmen are well pleased."
 

"I'm glad," said Ruby.

"You look tired," said the Steward. "You can rest in the Pavilion, for as long as you like. You did well today, Ruby. When you're ready, I hope you will undertake another day of service."

The next day, the doctor waited until he'd strapped her feet into the harness to ask, "Did you tell all your companions at the Guild Hall how to pass the Second Trial?"
 

"No," Ruby answered.

"You're lying," he accused, inserting something in her cunt. It was cold, and not made of flesh. Beyond that she couldn't tell. "All of them passed.
All
of them. Do you know how often that happens?"
 

"No," said Ruby.

"Never," said the doctor. "Or close enough to it. But you shared the secret of the Trial, and secrets never keep. Now one of them will tell a friend in the next batch of girls, and soon everyone will know."

"I wish all the women here many beads," said Ruby. "I hope they taste the King's cock, if that's what they want. But I didn't tell anyone how to succeed at the Second Trial."
 

She heard a huffing noise and the cold thing inside of her expanded, filling her up. Ruby cried out, squirming on the table. She wanted to push it out of her, to escape it. She wanted to bear down on it, and fuck it.
 

"We'll have to redesign the criteria for the trial," said the doctor, sticking a thumb covered in that strange, slick glove up her ass. "I'll have to tell the King that I compromised his Tournament."

Ruby moaned. She reached for her clit, but the doctor slapped her hand away. The thing in her cunt got colder suddenly, freezing cold, and began to hurt.
 

"I didn't
tell
them anything," Ruby repeated. "I
showed
them. We were standing on opposite sides of the room, like children at a dance. Boys and girls. Some of the guildsmen would have come to us, if we'd waited. I didn't wait."
 

The doctor pumped his thumb in her asshole. Ruby began to squirm and buck. She didn't know what was happening inside of her. The cold thing scared her. The doctor's thumb felt intrusive, unkind.

"I didn't see it happen." Ruby panted. "I was in an alcove, fucking a sweet, good man who deserved a loving cunt. By the time we were done, the other aspirants had all paired off."
 

The cold thing flashed hot and began to throb. Ruby screamed, beside herself with panic. She began to thrash on the table, trying to kick away the stirrups. "Holy fuck," she cried. "Holy fuck, holy fuck, holy fuck."
 

And then the thing inside of her, burning hot where it had been frozen only a moment before,
melted
. Like water flowing out of her in a cleansing stream. The doctor's thumb slid out of her, making her shudder. He rose from his stool and peeled his gloves off, pinning her to the table with his bare palm.