Hot Medieval Menage Romance!

Featuring not one dominant royal lover, but two, my latest spanking menage romance Claimed by the Kings combines the allure of two alpha males, one rough and instinctive with a barbarian’s appeal, the other a wiser, more wily king with an inventive streak which is bought to bear in the discipline and training of their captive princess. As Ragnar the Barbarian and King Milo Lionheart forge their delicate alliance, Elizabeth, Princess of Ammerdale sets out to make their lives difficult. An empire will rise from the loins of these three lovers – but the conquest of a kingdom is no challenge at all compared to the task of taming a spirited princess.

The next thing Milo was aware of was waking up to the morning light with Elizabeth laying atop him, her slim fingers playing over the muscles of his chest. There was a look in her eye which Milo did not quite trust. His instinct was proved correct when she opened her mouth.

“You know he’s going to kill you.”

“Is that so?” Milo responded to the comment without fear. His cock was stiffening between his thighs again. He slid it casually between her pussy lips, sinking himself deep inside her naughty little cunt. If he was going to listen to her plot against the alliance, he may as well sate himself.

She let out a little gasp as she was penetrated yet again, almost distracted enough to stop talking as he held her buttocks and rocked his hips up and down to sluice his cock in and out of her tight, wet slit.

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Princess Has Her Bottom Spanked

She was still quite naked when she got into bed, leaving him to bathe in the remaining water. He kept his eyes on her as he stripped off his clothing. Though she pretended to be immune to his charms, Madeline nevertheless bunched the sheets up in such a manner as to allow her to look upon his naked form.

He was magnificent. He removed his leggings first and she saw that his legs were muscled and hard all the way to his rounded posterior shaped like that of some pagan god. When he removed his doublet and shirt her quim began to pulse of its own accord. His manhood hung thick and long between his thighs, but it was his torso that truly took her breath away. His hips were slim and his abdomen was furred and toned, but his shoulders were broad and his chest was spectacularly formed with slabs of muscle bigger than her head. Sir Gregory was far more imposing without his clothes than with them. Madeline could not stop herself from staring, her roaming eye taking him in over and over again until he sat in the bath and just his knees and shoulders were exposed.

“You know I can see you, princess,” he drawled as he began to wash himself. “You may look upon me without shame. We are betrothed.”

Madeline made no reply, for she was not going to admit her carnal curiosity. She was so deeply affected by her reaction to his body that it scared her. He had filled her head with wanton thoughts so torrid she could barely have stood to look herself in the eye. She chose to cover her face and listen as he washed. She could imagine the water beading on his skin, trailing down over the planes of his muscles in a slow trickling torrent. Keep reading…

Catching A Reluctant Bride…

Ordered to marry a mere knight who has already proven himself capable of spanking her bare bottom for the most minor of infractions, Princess Madeline tries to escape her intended husband, only to find herself lost and cold in the deep, dark woods.

The mist had turned to a wet dew which soaked her slippers within steps, chilling her toes. Despairing, Madeline looked about for some warm nook or cranny. She spied a large tree with sprawling roots ringed by bushes which was less exposed than the open grass.

Curled up in woody embrace, Madeline closed her eyes and tried to sleep. With cold air biting at her nose and toes, she tucked herself into the smallest ball possible and prayed for morning. Unfortunately, sleep did not come easily to the shivering princess. Each minute seemed more torturous than the last. She began to think of the tales she’d heard, of wandering kings with bloody stumps where there heads once were. Every sound in the depths of the wilds sounded as though it could be the shuffling steps of a decapitated monarch. She did not know what was worse, her fear or the bitter cold, but both were fast becoming mortal threats when a splashing down river made her sit bolt upright.

The stallion lifted his head and nickered in the direction of the sound. He did not seem concerned by it, so Madeline reasoned it probably was not a predator, nor a ghost for that matter. Were horses afraid of ghosts? She imagined they probably would be. They were afraid of most things.

Light reflected off the water as a mounted rider drew closer. The bearer was holding the light high and back so that his face was in shadow. It could be a barbarian or a bandit. It could be death itself coming for her. Chilled fingers seemed to creep about her heart as her own cold hands clasped her dress close for comfort. Slowly the band of light fell first over the stallion, then over her. She looked into it, her eyes wide as the shadowy figure swung itself down from the horse it rode and came toward her.

“Princess, you do have a talent for finding trouble.”
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