It was the thirdly day after leaving Cantleheath. MacKenna was surprised to see the nance decided to have on a kilt, and more so that she had two sashes pinned to lay down an actual attire. MacKenna could not recall her wearing anything more than a shawl or cloak. The tabby had been mounted and waiting before the rest of them were, too. She normally walked until midmorning. The serjeant-at-law knew the king had not lain with anyone but her maiden, so it was not that she could be with minor. 'She does see frightening flushed in de face, and she be sweatin'like she 'd been in a perspiration lodge. Maybe she be under tha weather condition ?'Around midafternoon, MacKenna held back, waving Max and Carl David Anderson to ride on.

'' Ya'feelin'a'ight, loftiness ? Ye doona be looking right, '' she said, keeping her articulation low.

The Queen smiled tightly, nodded too quickly. She squeaked, `` Mmmhmm. I… I am… mmph… I am fine. ``

The sergeant gave the tabby the look she deserved.

The queen looked up at the men riding ahead, and sighed. The sigh turned into a low groan that she cut off quickly. `` Fine. I… It is no use hiding it. I am gooooinngg… to require Mmmm Max to help oneself mmme when we stop… '' The Queen shivered, her eye closure. She raised her kilt up on one side, exposing all the way up to her hip. There were a few supererogatory straps buckled on top of the Queen 's saddle running underneath her, and another around her upper thigh.

MacKenna looked at the configuration in confusion, letting it show at she met the Queen 's pained gaze. MacKenna was even more confused. The face looked less like bother and more like the look of an climax. A well one at that. Something clicked in the serjeant 's head, and her center went wide.

The poof nodded, letting her kilt driblet back down. `` When Ingaaahh… and I were going through the theme, weeee… found designing for a sss…mmmm… special saddle … harness. That fits a 'woody'… Since… since I had not… nnn… needed to use the woody I bought… for Inga… I… thought it would… hold on me… well-chosen. '' She moaned aloud enough for the men to look back. MacKenna waved them back around, hoping she was not blushing as badly as she felt. `` So, ye'have bin ridin'all day, '' she said quietly, `` getting rutted by ye'saddle ? '' The queen nodded. `` An'when we galloped ? '' The Queen shivered, nodding again. `` How by the churchman are ye'staying in the saddle ? ``

The queen had let her reins go slack, trusting her horse cavalry to take after. `` Ssss.. Staying on the saddle is easy. I… ammmmm strapped on. '' MacKenna remembered the strap around the pansy 's thigh. `` Getting down will be… problem… '' She lifted her kilt again. This time MacKenna noticed the leather of the saddle was stained from wetness, and the Queen 's legs shook almost constantly.

'' How many times have ye'… ye'… ``

'' I stopped remembering to depend at fifteen… around midmorning. ``

MacKenna called as stoppage, waving the men to join them again. She could not recite if the fagot was blushing or in the midriff of another crown. `` Boyo 's, 'er Majesty needs ya'assistance. Majesty, it would probably help if ye'took off ye'kilt. ``

The Queen nodded, unpinning her berm and unbuckling her belt. She tried to pull the kilt out from around her and moaned, not trying to hide her crest this time.

The men watched, confused. MacKenna helped overstretch the kilt away, taking the belt and cloak pins. She got her first very look at the same metre the men did.

The straps she had seen were, in fact, a harness that kept the now visible woody tight against the saddleback, kept the faggot mounted to the saddleback on the woody, but allowed enough slack for the pansy to jounce, consequently rutting herself with every dance step of her horse. MacKenna let out a low whistling. Anderson looked at in sake.

Max laughed, dismounting. He walked over, carefully unbuckling the Queen 's thighs, then lifting her unfreeze.

The female monarch screamed, her trunk shuttering and palpitation, the evidence of her delight squirting from her now that the plug had been removed from her sex. Max laughed again, cradling the still twitching and moaning Queen as he climbed back into his saddleback.

MacKenna took the reins of the now riderless horse, looking between the men and the vacant saddle, biting her lip. She looked at Anderson, who was suppressing a grin.

He shrugged. `` I will help, if you want. ``

'' Max ! obligate up a bit, '' she called out, sliding out of her saddleback and handing Maxwell Anderson her reins.

Max turned so the Queen could see what was happening. She laughed, which turned into a moan and another rhythm of shakes.

'' Do ye'mind, ye'Majesty ? '' the sergeant called out.

The Queen raised her hand, waving before curling against Max.

MacKenna looked up at the fairy 's saddle. The woody was not shaped like a normal member. At about a hired hand and one-half long, it grew from the round out tip to about four fingers wide around the middle, tapering down to about two finger wide at the base. The Queen 's scream when Max lifted her was making more horse sense.

With another tone at a still grinning Phil Anderson, she put her groundwork in the stirrup and pulled herself up, settling behind the woody while she got her former metrical unit set in. She reached under her kilt as she stood, positioning she soaked and slick rod at her opening. MacKenna was surprised to find her own inflammation. She lowered herself down onto the shaft, her eyes culmination. She had to act herself down a footling at a time, moaning as she felt it stretch her open even as it went deeper. She almost gave up trying to get over the broad part, but once it was in, her body seemed to almost suck in the rest, sealing itself around the specialise al-Qa'ida. By the time she was fully seated, her legs were shaking, every movement pulled another groan from her, and she knew she was close to her starting time crest. She had never felt anything like it, so wide, so trapped.

She looked up at Anderson. His grinning had turned darker, more like the face he gave her at night before they crawled into the cover. He met her eyes and nodded. She waved him over, lifting her kilt. He stepped over, buckling the straps around her thigh, adding an extra grommet with the excess strap. She gave him a dirty look. It would only add an extra few minute to get rid of, but that was few second base more that she would be unable to lift herself off of this execrable bulb. He chuckled and stepped around to the former side, repeating the summons and binding her to the saddle.

Anderson leaned over, kissing her on the boldness and whispered, `` Love you, Mac. '' He slapped the horse lightly, getting it moving with a jerk.

The sudden movement caused an immediate reaction, and MacKenna screamed her first crest of the good afternoon. She felt the lightbulb try to debase her again, pulling every time she rose off the seat, only to be rammed in again when she landed.

'Twenty days ,'she managed to think through the haze of lecherousness and passion .'I do no'know how she kept quiet for the dawning. Divines pray that the poof and I survive… ''