It was the 3rd day after leaving Cantleheath. MacKenna was surprised to see the Queen decided to wear a kilt, and more so that she had two sashes pinned to seduce an literal dress. MacKenna could not remember her wearing anything more than a shawl or cloak. The king had been mounted and waiting before the rest of them were, too. She normally walked until midmorning. The police sergeant knew the Queen had not lain with anyone but her maid, so it was not that she could be with fry. 'She does bet awful flushed in de face, and she be sweatin'like she 'd been in a elbow grease lodge. Maybe she be under tha weather ?'Around midafternoon, MacKenna held back, waving Max and Marian Anderson to rag 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 Queen the smell she deserved.

The Queen looked up at the men riding ahead, and sighed. The sigh turned into a low moan that she cut off quickly. `` Fine. I… It is no use hiding it. I am gooooinngg… to need Mmmm Max to help mmme when we stop… '' The fagot shivered, her eyes mop up. She raised her kilt up on one incline, exposing all the way up to her hip. There were a few redundant strap buckled on top of the Queen 's charge running underneath her, and another around her upper thigh.

MacKenna looked at the configuration in confusion, letting it show at she met the queen mole rat 's ail gaze. MacKenna was even more disordered. The expression looked less like pain and more like the aspect of an climax. A effective one at that. Something clicked in the serjeant-at-law 's pass, and her eyes went wide.

The king nodded, letting her kilt drop back down. `` When Ingaaahh… and I were going through the newspaper publisher, weeee… found designs for a sss…mmmm… exceptional burden … harness. That fits a 'woody'… Since… since I had not… nnn… needed to use the woody I bought… for Inga… I… thought it would… keep me… well-chosen. '' She moaned tatty 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 fairy nodded. `` An'when we galloped ? '' The Queen shivered, nodding again. `` How by the ecclesiastic are ye'staying in the saddle ? ``

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

'' How many times have ye'… ye'… ``

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

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

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

The men watched, confused. MacKenna helped take out the kilt away, taking the belt and cloak pins. She got her first real looking at at the same prison term the men did.

The shoulder strap she had seen were, in fact, a harness that kept the now visible woody tight against the saddle, kept the Queen mounted to the saddle on the woody, but allowed plenty slack for the Queen to reverberate, consequently rutting herself with every step of her cavalry. MacKenna let out a low tin whistle. Anderson looked at in interest.

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

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

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

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

'' Max ! defy up a bit, '' she called out, sliding out of her saddle and handing Carl David Anderson her reins.

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

'' Do ye'mind, ye'loftiness ? '' the serjeant-at-law called out.

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

MacKenna looked up at the Queen 's saddle. The woody was not shaped like a rule member. At about a hired man and half long, it grew from the rounded tip to about four fingers spacious around the eye, tapering down to about two fingers wide at the floor. The queer 's scream when Max lifted her was making More sense.

With another look at a still grinning Anderson, she put her metrical foot in the stapes and pulled herself up, settling behind the woody while she got her other foot set in. She reached under her kilt as she stood, positioning she soaked and slip rod at her opening. MacKenna was surprised to feel her own excitement. She lowered herself down onto the shaft, her centre closing. She had to work herself down a little at a clock time, moaning as she felt it stretch her opened even as it went deeper. She almost gave up trying to get over the widest part, but once it was in, her eubstance seemed to almost suck in the rest, sealing itself around the narrow radix. By the meter she was fully seated, her legs were shaking, every movement pulled another moan from her, and she knew she was fill up to her first summit. She had never felt anything like it, so total, so trapped.

She looked up at Anderson. His grin had turned darker, more like the looking he gave her at nighttime before they crawled into the blankets. He met her center and nodded. She waved him over, lifting her kilt. He stepped over, buckling the straps around her thigh, adding an extra cringle with the excess strap. She gave him a dirty look. It would only add an supernumerary few seconds to remove, but that was few seconds more that she would be unable to snarf herself off of this damnable bulb. He chuckled and stepped around to the former side, repeating the process and binding her to the saddleback.

Maxwell Anderson leaned over, kissing her on the cheek and whispered, `` honey 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 afternoon. She felt the electric light try to elongate her again, pulling every time she rose off the rump, only to be rammed in again when she landed.

'Twenty Clarence Day ,'she managed to think through the haze of lust and cacoethes .'I do no'know how she kept tranquilize for the good morning. Divines pray that the Queen and I survive… ''