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The Ballad of Lincoln the Lewd	By : Mr-Dusk Category: +G through L > The Loud House Views: 16524 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Loud House. This fic is made for non-profit.

Chapter List
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Lincoln had arrived in town just as the sky turned orange with the setting sun. The city of Midden was the center of the Kingdom’s commerce, and as such, it was one of the largest and wealthiest of the cities in the realm. Such wealth meant the citizens of this town enjoyed unique benefits and privileges that few others could equal.

For one thing, its wealth meant a certain degree of autonomy from the crown. As long as they could pay their tithes, the monarchy let them do as they please. Any government presence was a token one, with the local guilds holding the real power here. Even the town’s garrison was composed of sellswords on semi-permanent employ with the merchant-lords, many of whom have incited a fair number of street fights and riots to intimidate or “dispose” of their rivals.

Such opulence, coupled with a fairly large population, meant that there was a darker side to things as well. In the dilapidated and ignored sectors of the city, beggars and other downtrodden types eke out a living as best as they can. The lords, with their bloated wallets, occasionally throw a few handfuls of silver their way to keep them contented; though they were far more interested in keeping themselves in power, and their rivals out of it, than in concerning themselves with bettering Midden’s living conditions for the commoners.

Lincoln left his horse at the town’s stable as he walked down the busy main throughway of the city, crowded with activity, he made sure to tuck his purse of money underneath his shirt, wary of the friendly-faced street kids ‘accidentally’ bumping into him and offering a brief apology before leaving to go round a corner, possibly to count their latest catch.

Carol was floating beside Lincoln, cloaked from the other people’s sight using her magic, so that only her master could perceive her, “I’ve never seen so many humans crowded into such tight spaces, reminds me of the orgy chambers me and the girls had back home.”

Lincoln could only imagine what that could possibly entail, though he speculated that the ordinary man would collapse from the sheer pleasure of it all. But asking Carol what that would be would have to be set aside for later, right now, he had a business appointment to get to.

A small two-story stone building, one that looked a bit less worn-down than the rest, came into view. Lincoln approached the door, where a guard in half plate armor hailed him.

“Halt there, good sir, do you have an appointment?”

Lincoln produced a small parchment bearing a wax seal; the guard looked it over, then handed it back to him, “All right, please go in.”

The inside of the building was certainly better maintained than the outside was, but Lincoln was in no mind to tarry.

He knocked on a pair of important-looking doors, “This should be it.”

“Who is it?” came a reply from the inside.

“It is I, Sir Lincoln, late of Elem Village.”

“Ah, you have arrived, please come inside, we have much to discuss.”

Lincoln sat himself down in a posh office, seated across from a desk with a bespectacled and bald man, the Royal Viceroy of Midden. “Thank you for arriving so promptly, Sir Lincoln. I apologize if your transfer of station seemed a bit sudden, and that you’re not too discomforted by your journey here.”

“Well, not that much, I’d say it was quite a smooth ride coming over here.” He didn’t want to tell him that Carol had kept him company and satisfied during the trip.

“That is good to know, we have prepared accommodations for you at the coaching house, I’m sure you’ll find it more suited for a knight than some rural inn; but I digress, shall we get to the matter of your summons to this place?”

“Please do.” Lincoln replied.

After adjusting a short stack of papers, he turned to Lincoln with his fingers brought together thoughtfully, “Now, I think you’re familiar with the recent rebellions that our fair kingdom has been blighted with?”

“You mean like Vault and his ilk?”

The other man nodded, “Curs like him make life for us all the more difficult. To rub salt on the wounds, his rebellion has emboldened other factions of dissidents to follow a similar path. I think you may be familiar with Lady Paige of the House Turner?”

“The daughter of the late General Paul Turner?” Lincoln replied.

“The very same. Now as you are well aware, the Turner family is well-liked by the people of their fiefs, and they in turn care for their subjects with a great deal of respect and a firm-but-fair approach to governance. The uprising of Vault and his army of bastards has stretched our Kingdom’s resources thin, and in recent months the effects are starting to take its toll on the citizens. Paige has repeatedly petitioned requests for supplies and rations for her people, as Vault’s rebellion is forcing us to raise the taxes needed to fund our own army. Lady Turner’s misery is her people’s misery, and as much as the throne would love to alleviate their concerns, we are unfortunately not in any kind of position to address those concerns until we have solved the greater crisis.”

Lincoln nodded, “Okay, so, I gather this all has to do with Lady Paige, but where do I fall into the equation?”

The other man smiled assuringly, “As of right now, you’re not just in the equation, you’re the solution.”

Lincoln raised a brow, “Meaning what, exactly?”

“Your success in uncovering the plot of Elem’s treacherous mayor, not to mention the secret hideout of Vault’s men, has drawn the attention of the senior knights, whether by skill or stroke of luck, they feel that you should be given another chance to prove yourself. I understand you graduated from the Academy at the bottom of your class, though your success in uncovering treachery in our lands in such an expedient manner has made them feel more confident that you may be just the person to handle this task.”

“So, if I understood this correctly, you want me to deal with Paige in a swift and expedient manner?”

The other man adjusted his glasses, “You catch on quickly, I think you really are the right person for this job.”

…

After getting himself comfortable lodgings in the nearby mansion, Lincoln laid his head to rest upon the soft bed, thinking about taking a nap, when Carol suddenly manifested above him, smiling lustily.

“Shall we do some nookie nookie before naptime, Master?”

Lincoln shrugged, “What the hell? I got all the time in the world to do it. Get on top and give me some lip.”

Carol gladly laid herself on top of Lincoln, giving him a big sloppy one with her mouth. She didn’t do much else when Lincoln briskly grabbed her hair and pulled her away.

“Not that lip, you dumb blonde! I meant the good one.”

“Oh… sorry, Master.” She turned away and shifted her position with her sex lips facing Lincoln, who grinned gleefully at the sight.

He eagerly kissed and dipped into her interior, supping her sweet, delectable succubus juices. Carol moaned lovingly as her master tasted her sweet nectar, and then she decided to return the favor and wrapped her long, prehensile tongue around his member. Lincoln’s log stiffened even tighter, drawing a moan from him, and Carol smiled cheerily, knowing she made him feel good.

“You’re the best, Carol.” He said affectionately. Although he did not see it, Carol blushed at his earnest remark.

Carol bent down deeper, placing Lincoln’s log wholly down her throat. Breath was not a concern of hers, so she diligently and speedily began to suck and squeeze him inside of her.

“Ooh… oh… you’re such a good little bitch, Carol.” Lincoln moaned out, digging in and scraping her insides with his tongue, lost in the sensual bliss of her flavor and motions on his length.

“Master…” he continued scooping her delight with his tongue, he loved listening to her squirm, “Ooh… Master…”

He rammed his pointer and middle finger into her anus, and Carol yelped in pleasant surprise at Lincoln’s probing.

“Ah, Master Lincoln! Eeeh!!” she splattered her white succubus fluids from her demonic daffodil.

Lincoln eagerly supped upon the fluids that stuck to his face, “For something so evil, you taste really sweet.”

“I live to please you, Master.” She said with a wink.

Carol had little time for a reprieve as Lincoln flipped her on her hands and knees, his lance prepared to go plumb her filthy dugout, “I’m not done with you yet, devil-wench.”

Lincoln stuck himself into her like a spit going through a hog; Carol squeaked delightfully, her demonic eyes aflame with passion and her teeth gritting from the sensation of Lincoln pushing against her bum.

“Ah! Ah! Master… Ah! Fuck me, master! Fuck me!” She begged with the energy her voice could muster, begging her master to spare no mercy for her as she took his meat into her, her hole delighting in the raw sensations.

“Say it, you cunt! Say my name!” Lincoln demanded.

“Lincoln! Lincoln! LINCOLN!” Carol arched her back as Lincoln’s cream slowed into her anus, filling her with his white love, while Lincoln moaned from the depths of his throat, squeezing as much of himself into her as he could.

Lincoln collapsed on top of Carol on their bed, sheets getting soaked by the soup of their carousing.

“Well done, Carol, well done.” Lincoln whispered softly into her ear.

Hearing him speak his name made her devilish heart aflutter with bliss, “I promise to serve you forever, Master Lincoln.”

…

The next day, Lincoln decided to go travel to the Turner fiefdom and see if he couldn’t find a diplomatic solution to this stalemate.

“Are you sure you want to just walk right towards the lions’ den, Master?” Carol asked worriedly.

“If half of the stories I’ve heard about Lady Paige are true, then she probably won’t have her archers plug a shaft to my lungs. I’m not too concerned, even without my weapons, not that they’ll probably do me any good with them.”

“Okay, but if you’re ever in trouble, remember, I’m right here, in your pants.” Carol shrunk and dove into Lincoln’s trousers, resting near his balls.

His horse trotted just above the hill to see the estates of the Turner family. A palisade of stakes ringed several miles of houses that circled a tall hill, atop which lay a towerhouse – not quite a castle, but formidable to assault in the right location, nonetheless – where Paige lived.

As Lincoln approached the gates, he was approached by a plate-mailed guard, carrying a halberd, who halted him just several feet from the gate.

“Halt, stranger! State thy name and business afore you are let in.”

“I am Sir Lincoln Loud, of the Royal Knights of Onivas, and I’ve come on behest of the Throne as a diplomat to resolve the dispute between them and the just Lady Paige.”

After giving him a quick once-over to make certain that he bore no weapons on his person, asking him to empty his pockets as well, and as soon as he was sure that he was no threat, he hailed the gatemen to open up.

He spoke with another guard, who approached Lincoln as the latter dismounted, “Now, Sir Lincoln was it? Please follow me, I will take you to meet Lady Paige, but I’m keeping my eye on you, understand?”

“Perfectly,” Lincoln replied.

As they walked through the town, Lincoln observed the villagers eyeing him suspiciously. He paid them no further mind while he walked towards the castle.

Inside, Lady Paige was writing on some parchment when someone knocked on her door.

“Enter.”

A plump, robed man opened and leaned in to see Paige, “Milady, an emissary of the King has arrived to speak with you. He is unarmed and alone, do you wish to speak with him?”

“Very well, take him to the meeting room and keep an eye on him; I will be with the both you shortly.”

Lincoln waited inside the meeting room, seated across from a desk, behind it was a tapestry bearing the coat-of-arms of the Turner family.

The robed man was standing by the door, looking at Lincoln cautiously, gauging him for some kind of response so he could find out what kind of person he was. Lincoln just smiled awkwardly while he waited, patting a tune with his hands on his knees.

A knock on the door later, Paige entered the room and sat on the chair behind the desk, looking upon Lincoln coldly.

“So, you are the emissary that the Throne has sent?”

Lincoln cleared his throat, “Yes, I have been personally requested to see if we can’t negotiate a more peaceful solution to this whole debacle.”

No sooner had he said that last word than when Paige flung a knife which lodged itself on the backrest of the chair and just an inch left of Lincoln’s face.

Lincoln was understandably taken aback by this, his limbs tightening the cords in his muscles and beads of sweat pouring from his temples.

Paige rose from her chair and walked purposefully towards Lincoln, she placed one leg on the chair, between Lincoln’s legs, leaned in, and looked at Lincoln eye-to-eye, “The only negotiation between us is war!”

“Pardon?” Lincoln asked sheepishly.

“Don’t mock me with your ignorance! I’m not going to fall for it, not like those you’ve killed!”

“I’m not sure I understand?” Lincoln voiced, still befuddled.

“I’ve sent envoys to the King only to have their severed heads delivered in a burlap sack! I am not going to risk sending my people to their deaths for empty promises of peace!”

Lincoln couldn’t help but feel a chill down his spine when she said that. From the sound of things, it seemed as though there was a lot that he didn’t know about, and now he was paying the price for his recklessness in coming to hostile territory.

“Wait a minute! Look, I’m just a messenger sent to broker peace! I don’t know anything about beheaded people!”

Paige huffed angrily, “Yeah right, a likely story,” she pulled her kukri knife from the chair, and gestured to the other man in the room, “Take him to the prison in the basement, I’ll figure out some use for him.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Lincoln’s mind had little time to process what was going on as his wrists were bound together and he was roughly led to a room within the deep recesses of the castle surrounded by stone walls on three sides and bars facing out front.

“Wonderful, this whole thing has gone south faster than geese flying to warmer climes.”

Carol emerged by his side, “Do you need my assistance, Master?”

Lincoln gently palmed her face in his hands, “Apparently so, my dear.”

Lincoln walked up to the bars and tried to pull on them, “Obviously, pulling these things apart would amount to nothing.”

“Shall I go and fetch the keys, Master?”

“Of course, now get going my sweet, Master’s going to get a cramp in this rats’ nest.”

…

After finding the keys and putting the guards to sleep with a little devilry, Lincoln managed to slip out under the cover of dusk, carefully slipping past the patrols on the dirt paths as Carol hovered above telling him when it was all right to sneak past. Lincoln found a small dip with loose soil beneath the palisade that he easily sifted out and used to crawl under and into the stable, where he found the horse he rode in on.

“Easy peasy…” Lincoln muttered to himself.

Riding back under the cover of darkness and Carol’s watchful eyes, he was safely away back to Midden, with hours to spare until the first crack of dawn.

…

“Damnation!” Paige angrily slammed the table as she took in the news of Lincoln’s escape.

She poured some wine onto a stem glass and slouched into her seat, sipping a few as she massaged her temples, sore with frustration.

“How did he manage to give us the slip?” she asked.

The congregation of men who told her the bad news all shook their heads; the fat man was the first to respond, “I’m sorry, milady; when the guards came to bring him in for questioning, he had apparently broken out and took his horse with him.”

“Were there any clues? Did any of the patrols find anything?”

“I’m afraid not milady. Except for a hole he dug under the palisade with loose soil, we don’t really know how he managed to escape our grasp.”

Paige turned to the ceiling contemplatively, as though she were looking for a sign of what to do now. She had every reason to worry, if Lincoln was able to get away with virtually no trace of how he had done so, then he could easily have sent word to the authorities of Midden and mobilize a force to besiege their stronghold, and Lincoln would have insider knowledge.

Now was not the time for indecision, Paige needed to act quickly and brace herself for the worst. “All right, listen up! Get the armorers to begin fitting all our able-bodied soldiers for battle, then shore up our defenses, fill in any holes you find!”

After setting them to work, Paige privately confided in her advisor, “We can’t afford to take any chances. Send a spy to Midden and find out where this Lincoln Loud is; I want to know what he is doing before we’re forced into any major engagements.”

“It will be done milady.”

Paige retreated to her personal quarters and watched as the town below busied themselves, orders from her knights and worrisome questions by the townsfolk were intermingled with the clopping of horse hooves and the hammering of the blacksmiths’ instruments. Paige closed her windows and sat on her bed, taking a small, framed picture bearing her father and her childhood self.

“Father, what am I going to do? I feel like I’m making a horrible mistake, but I can’t back out now, our people need us.” She held it close to her breast, “Please, I hope that whatever happens, it will all turn out for the best.”

…

The moon rose above the blue-black sky over the Turner fiefdom, and Paige was busy writing down in her diary. A knock on the door pulled her from her scribbling. “Come in.”

The door opened and a cloaked man appeared, slowly walking into the room. Paige recognized it as the spy she dispatched to Midden to find out where and what Lincoln was up to.

“Good, you’re back, give me your report.”

He said nothing, simply shuffling towards her limply.

“Are you all right?” Paige stood from her seat and approached him.

Paige carefully gripped her scabbard, moving towards him cautiously, feeling some ominous foreboding in the back of her mind.

“I said, ‘Are you all right?’”

The man pulled his cloak away and onto the floor. “I’ve never felt better, Miss Paige.” It was the sly voice of Lincoln Loud as he revealed himself before her.

“You!” Paige attempted to pull her sword and cut him down where he stood, but was suddenly accosted by an invisible force that restrained her body, “W-What is going on!?”

“Calm yourself, milady, I am not here to take your life, I’ve come here with a proposal.”

Lincoln moved in close and cupped her chin, he leaned in close and smelled her flesh, smirking haughtily, “As I was saying, I have a proposal. In a few days’ time, I will return and challenge you to a contest of my choosing. The terms are as follow: If you win, I will personally request the Royal Court to have Midden supply your people with everything they will need to get back on their feet, and they will have no choice but to concede if they wish to maintain their modest independence. However, if I win, then I will keep you as my prisoner to do with as I please. Is that clear?”

Paige couldn’t help but shiver as he talked; every sound escaping his mouth was like bittersweet venom. She pegged him as a milquetoast knight graduate with no recent experience, but how he was acting now was completely at odds with her initial assessment.

“V-very well…” Paige replied, her voice cracking with fear, “I accept your challenge.”

“Very good,” Lincoln let go of her face and stepped back, “Pleasure doing business with you, Miss Paige, I hope we are able to get to know each other in a more amiable setting.”

He stepped behind the door and closed it, and scant seconds afterwards, Paige could feel motion return to her body. Swiftly, she drew her sword and dashed out the door, catching a maid off-guard as she was carrying a basket of fresh clothes.

Paige helped her to her feet, “I’m sorry about that, but did you see a man come by; white hair and freckles?”

The maid shook her head, “I’m sorry, ma’am, I just got in here, and I haven’t seen or heard hide or hair of any white-haired sirs coming ‘bout.”

“I see, well, carry on then. I’m sorry.”

“No trouble ma’am, everything’s getting a bit tense ‘round here, so there’s plenty o’ reason to feel a little on edge.”

You don’t know the half of it, Paige thought.

…

For the past couple of days after her terrifying encounter, Paige had been up from the crack of dawn to the long hours of the night, waiting for any sign of Lincoln to show up.

The week after her fateful encounter, she was awoken by the sound of her advisor bursting in and screaming that a large force had assembled before their stronghold, and Lincoln had been identified as being among those on the opposing force.

“How did they muster so many in just a week? Have the men been assembled?”

“Yes ma’am,” the advisor replied.

Paige rushed to the top of the battlements and looked over the field before her. Pennants flying the colors of the Kingdom’s army waved high above the heads of a good hundred or so foot soldiers and knights dressed for battle and ready to go.

“Are we prepared to take their siege?” Paige asked her bannerman standing beside her.

“Aye, milady, we’ll drive them back or die trying; hopefully the former.”

A section of the warhost that assembled parted, and riding forth was Lincoln Loud, alone and unaccompanied save for a group of men, none of them soldiers, by his side and carrying some unusual baggage; they held a white flag signaling that they were approaching to parlay with Paige.

“Milady, I do believe that is that Lincoln fellow we held in the prison a couple of days ago!”

“The very same, I think he wishes to negotiate with us.”

“What will you do, Miss Paige?”

She turned around and descended from the ramparts, “To meet with them, of course. I’m not going to start any fights, but I will finish it if one ever occurs.”

Paige emerged from the gates of her walled domain, accompanied by her advisor and two guards, and approached the waiting Lincoln. She couldn’t help but tremble in anxiety, as the realization of the fact that she was woefully out of control of the present situation and reacting to, rather than acting upon, the circumstances.

She approached Lincoln, putting up her bravest façade. “So, you have returned. I suppose you have your challenge for me?”

“Indeed I do, Miss Paige.” He replied with a devious smile.

“So, what shall it be? Is it perhaps a bout with swords, maybe some jousting on horseback?”

Lincoln shook his head, “Nothing so martial as the arts of combat, my dear. Rest assured, however, that this contest I’ve had in mind will still appeal to your knightly sensibilities.”

He motioned to his entourage, and they pulled out some items out of their baggage, and out of it they pulled a pair of cushioned, velvet stools and a small round table. Setting it carefully on the ground and placing the stools across from each other, they then draped the small table with dyed cloth and set upon it a board for the game of chess.

“Chess?” Paige inquired quizzically.

“Yes, Miss Paige, Chess. If you defeat me in a game of wits, you will have the coffers of Midden to feed your impoverished and desperate people. If I defeat you, however, I will take you as prisoner. Fear not, I will personally ensure that your people aren’t harmed, though what happens afterward will be up to you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You will see…” Lincoln sat on one of the stools, and turned to Paige, “Now, shall we get this game going?”

The two contestants sat across from each other and made ready for the challenge.

Lincoln got the white pieces, Paige controlled the black pieces.

“All right, I go first. May the best player win.” He said with a cordial smile, before moving his first pawn to position F4 on the board.

Paige said no reply, moving her black pawn to D5.

Lincoln responded by moving his knight to F3.

“I’ll have you know, Lincoln Loud, that chess is one of my favorite pastimes; you will not find me so easy an opponent.” She said confidently, moving another pawn to C5, playing a defensive game to bait Lincoln out.

“Like I said, Miss Turner, may the best player win.” He replied nonchalantly, as though Paige’s declaration of confidence simply flew over his head.

For the next couple of turns Paige and Lincoln were mostly touch and go. Lincoln made no significant moves until he moved his Bishop up further on the board. Paige responded with some more maneuvers of her own. The battle went on as such for about twenty or so more turns.

…

Both players were reduced to ten pieces for Paige, and eleven for Lincoln. Paige was feeling herself coming at her wits’ end as she observed their current positions.

“Unbelievable” Paige thought to herself, “He never really struck me as the type to be this smart or clever… I should move carefully.”

Lincoln, on the other hand, was not even thinking of the game at all, instead he was inwardly muttering to himself as he tried sorting out garbled voices in his head.

“What the heck is this? Are these… Paige’s thoughts, how is this possible?”

“Anything is possible with you, my Lord.”

He paused during his turn upon hearing her voice, “Carol, is this your doing?”

She laughed in his mind, “At some point, maybe. But this is your power now, Master.”

Paige’s Queen was tucked away behind some of her Pawns. She briefly sensed an opportunity and moved it forward, confident that she could take the game.

“Right, I’m almost there, as long as I can keep him at a distance, there’s no way he can…”

Then Lincoln giggled.

Paige looked up from her pieces, looking puzzled and a little concerned, “And what is so amusing?”

Lincoln stopped his bemusement and looked at her, “Paige, for someone who claims to be good at chess and strategizing, you sure seem amateurish to leave yourself out in the open like that.”

“What are you-” Paige glanced over the board in detail, and quickly discovered the spot that she had overlooked, “Oh no… no, no, no!”

Paige had been so focused on keeping her Queen to deal strategic blows that she failed to notice that her King was now over-extended and exposed to Lincoln’s Bishop.

With one last move, Lincoln moved his Bishop up and next to Paige’s King, and seeing that the battle was won, Lincoln stretched his arms upward, “Well, that was an impressive game, Miss Turner, but it looks like the better player has won today.”

Paige slumped in defeat. It was over and she lost; now her people were doomed, and she would be taken prisoner. Still reeling from the defeat, she would, at the very least, take it as gracefully as she would be allowed; she was still a knight, after all.

“Well, it would seem that victory is yours, Sir Lincoln.”

Lincoln smiled, “Indeed, I look forward for when we next meet, Miss Turner.”

In short order, Paige was manacled and escorted onto a caged wagon. A few citizens from her fiefdom boldly stood forth and caused a minor uproar, a scene of carnage would have surely ensued had Paige not ordered them to stay their hand, lest they put not only themselves but their friends and families at risk.

With head held high even as her heart sank, Paige assured them that she would return and her people and would be as it was before the troubles that beset them.

Lincoln watched from the sidelines as Paige put up a brave show for all to see. Many from both sides were impressed with her dignity, but Lincoln was not as easily swayed. He had other ideas for Paige, and if she was willing, this would turn out well for the both of them.

…

Night had fallen over Midden as Paige looked despondently around her cell. For the past several hours she had scrutinized every nook and cranny of her accommodations, trying to look for a means of escape, but the only openings were the bars, which were solid and unyielding, and a small opening barely wider than her face, looking out into the evening sky.

She heard the door leading out of the prison open and a familiar voice speaks, “Thank you. Please leave us.”

Footsteps walked towards her cell, and approaching her door was none other than Lincoln Loud, the instigator of her misfortunes.

“What do you want?” she asked curtly.

“Hello, Miss Paige, are you comfortable in there?”

She placed her hands on her hips, “I’ve a bed, a chamber pot, and a table. It is most luxurious.” She replied sarcastically.

Lincoln clapped his hands together, “Delighted to know that the accommodations are adequate. Now, let’s get to brass tacks; I’ve come to negotiate a deal with you that could benefit all involved, and your people in particular would benefit the most.”

She raised her brow, “Oh really? Well then, out with it.”

“I have managed to convince the Royal Steward of Midden to provide aid to your fiefdom.”

Paige felt her hopes rise ever so slightly, “Truly? And what do you hope to gain from this charity?”

Lincoln smiled like a giddy young boy, “Not much, just your unconditional loyalty and willingness to obey my every bidding.”

Silence, awkward and long, hung thick between the two. It was broken by Paige, who burst out laughing as the words Lincoln spoke sunk into her mind.

“Are you… pardon,” she laughed some more, “Has your little victory over me addled your mind with overconfidence? Or did you crack your skull on a pavement stone? Who do you think you are to request me to be your bootlick?”

Lincoln shook his head and let a soft, hearty laugh, “Oh, dear sweet Paige, I am not asking you to be my slave, I am ordering you right now.” He then reached down the hem of his top and pulled it over and away from him.

“What… what are you doing?” Paige asked. Lincoln pulled off his boots and dropped his trousers as well, and Paige, feeling a bit uncomfortable at Lincoln undressing shamelessly before her.

Lincoln pulled a key from his pockets and opened Paige’s cell door, with the latter backing up slowly as Lincoln approached.

“Stay back, I’m warning you!” Paige prepared to attack Lincoln if he made any sudden moves.

“Come now, you can’t possibly mean to tell me that you aren’t impressed?”

Paige’s eyes wandered towards his surprisingly impressive manhood, a blush flashed on her face as she tried to keep herself calm and stay focused.

Lincoln walked closer, with Paige running out of room to back away as Lincoln stepped into her personal space.

“I said, stay back!” Paige threw a hook to try and stop him. Lincoln quickly grabbed her wrist and held it tight in a vise-like hold.

Paige tried to break free, but Lincoln held on tight. Paige attempted another punch, but Lincoln managed to catch that as well. With both her arms apparently out of commission, Paige tried to strike Lincoln with her knee at his naked member.

Her leg barely moved up a few inches when she felt something wrap around her leg, “What in the-!”

“Good timing, Carol.” Paige turned around to see a red-skinned, blonde-haired woman.

“I can’t let anything bad happen to Master’s precious seed.” Carol replied with a giggle.

“What is the meaning of this!?” Paige exclaimed, “I demand that you release me at once!”

“Carol, please hold her in place while I dispense the obstructions on her.”

“With pleasure, my Lord,” Carol quickly took hold of Paige’s arms, then with a snap, black iron manacles emerged from the stone and fastened themselves securely on Paige’s wrists.

Lincoln grabbed ahold of Paige’s top, and with a simple motion to the side, he ripped it open and watched her fruits dangle in the dank air of the dungeon, “Ah!”

Lincoln wasted no time in fondling her left breast with his hand and suckling on her right breast like a piglet nursing on his mother’s teat.

Paige could do not but squirm as Lincoln proceeded with his violation, unobstructed, “Stop, please! Don’t touch me!”

Carol scoffed, “That’s what they all say.”

Lincoln pressed her breasts together and began nibbling, salivating on her two nipples.

“Come now,” Carol whispered in her ear, “You can’t possibly tell me that some part of you doesn’t enjoy this feeling?” she reached down and started work on Paige’s lower lips.

“N-no… No! I am… am a knight… I will not… ah!” Carol pinched her clitoris.

Paige was flush with a mixture of shame and excitement. Lincoln’s assault on her breasts made her feel a heat borne of filthy emotions, and Carol egged her on.

“Out there, you may be a knight, but here, in the presence of our Master, you are but a pig. There’s no shame in this life, just give into the Master, and you will never want for anything again.”

Paige’s breathing turned shallow and nearly every pore on her flesh turned out sweat that reeked of pheromones.

“I think she’s all primed and ready, Master, shall we proceed with the final blow?”

Lincoln nodded eagerly after stretching Paige’s breasts away with his mouth, before letting them snap back in place and in proper form.

“I think you’re ready for entry,” Lincoln said mischievously.

“W-what are you going to do?” Paige asked frightened.

“What else is there? Carol, if you please?”

Carol nodded, and she levitated Paige’s legs upwards, spreading them perpendicularly and pointing towards the corners of the cell’s ceiling, her dainty flower now in full blossom.

Lincoln’s shaft jut outwards in anticipation of his prize, and Paige struggled harder, if futilely, at her restraints.

“No, NO! Let me go! Don’t do it, please!”

Lincoln couldn’t, nor wouldn’t, listen, instead he moved forward and prodded the outside of her opening.

“Do you yield, Paige?” Lincoln asked.

“No! Never!” she shouted.

Lincoln pushed in further, breaking in as far as his amazing length would let him, “Do you yield?” he asked again.

Paige only groaned and whimpered in response.

Lincoln decided to have his fun with Paige, and maybe then she’ll be receptive to being his slave. Starting with a slow motion, he let his shaft rub upon the sides of her entrance, feeling goosebumps as he felt himself ride in easily.

He proceeded with his movements, thrusting into her repeatedly. He moaned lovingly at the amazing feeling of her tightening around him as he plunged in.

“Gods, Paige, your hole is astounding!” Lincoln cried out.

“Ah, Ah! Haah!” Paige was feeling overwhelmed, this was her first time getting fucked in her once-virgin spot. The most amazing thing of all was the fact that she was… thrilled at the feeling, even as he porked her senseless she felt a comfortable sense that this was where she belonged.

“Paige… Do you… yield?” he asked once more, softly and punctuating every forward motion.

“I… I… I yield! I yield!” she continued to scream out loud, “Take me, Master! Take me away with you!”

“Thought you’d never ask!” Lincoln hastened his pace, “Oh yeah, yeah! I’m going to cum Paige!”

“Cum inside me, Master!”

“Argh!”

Lincoln released the seed that he had held back as Paige clenched her sex mouth around his shaft, taking his white, hot fluids into her system. This was followed by silence and heavy breaths from the two red-faced persons in the cell. Lincoln gently lifted Paige’s face to his, and he smiled softly.

“Whom do you serve?” Lincoln asked.

“You, Master…” Paige replied softly, tired from the ordeal.

…

Lincoln, Paige and the Royal Viceroy sat in the Viceroy’s office, waiting for someone to help secure what will hopefully be a lasting peace in the region.

There was a knock on the door, “Please enter” said the Viceroy.

The door opened, and who was there but Lincoln’s old friend, Inquisitor Clyde McBride, “Pardon my tardiness, I’ve had some official business to take care of, though I suppose this is my official business as of today.”

With the four of them seated, they pored over and discussed some paperwork laid out detailing certain plans that Lincoln, Paige and the Viceroy had been discussing.

“This agreement would benefit all parties involved?” Paige asked.

“Aye” the Viceroy affirmed, “except for the merchant lords of Midden. If their purses had eyes, they would probably weep.”

“Well, I’m sure that they wouldn’t mind coping with getting their pockets leaner.” Lincoln stated with a wry smile.

The Viceroy added to Lincoln’s jab, “And this would certainly help to curb their habits of sending out their thugs to go make donnybrooks in broad daylight.”

“So it’s in agreement,” Clyde spoke, “We will have, by Royal Decree and with the notary of the Inquisition, the merchant-lords of Midden supply much-needed funds and necessary resources to the Turner fiefdom for the purposes of bringing that fief’s economic state back to normal conditions.” Clyde turned to Lincoln and Paige, the latter of whom was clinging intimately to his arm, “Will these conditions be satisfactory?”

“Yes,” Lincoln turned to face Paige, who was looked at him back with a confident smile, “they will be extremely satisfactory.”
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The Ballad of Lincoln the Lewd