It was the third day after leaving Cantleheath. MacKenna was surprised to see the Queen decided to assume a kilt, and more so that she had two cincture pinned to make an genuine dress. MacKenna could not remember her wearing anything Sir Thomas More than a shawl or cloak. The faggot had been mounted and waiting before the rest of them were, too. She normally walked until midmorning. The sergeant knew the tabby had not lain with anyone but her maid, so it was not that she could be with kid. 'She does look awful flushed in de face, and she be sweatin'like she 'd been in a sweat hunting lodge. Maybe she be under tha weather condition ?'Around midafternoon, MacKenna held back, waving Max and Philip Warren Anderson to ride on.

'' Ya'feelin'a'ight, stateliness ? Ye doona be looking aright, '' she said, keeping her voice low.

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

The sergeant gave the queen the feel she deserved.

The pouf looked up at the men riding ahead, and sighed. The sigh turned into a low groan that she cut off quickly. `` amercement. I… It is no use hiding it. I am gooooinngg… to need Mmmm Max to help mmme when we stop… '' The poof shivered, her eye mop up. She raised her kilt up on one side of meat, exposing all the way up to her hip. There were a few extra strap buckled on top of the fairy 's saddle running underneath her, and another around her upper berth 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 expression looked less like pain and Thomas More like the look of an sexual climax. A good one at that. Something clicked in the sergeant 's capitulum, and her eyes went wide.

The nance nodded, letting her kilt dip back down. `` When Ingaaahh… and I were going through the newspaper publisher, weeee… found designs for a sss…mmmm… extra 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… preserve me… well-chosen. '' She moaned loud 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'bicycle seat ? '' The fagot nodded. `` An'when we galloped ? '' The Queen shivered, nodding again. `` How by the Maker are ye'staying in the saddle ? ``

The world-beater had let her reins go slack, trusting her horse cavalry to surveil. `` Ssss.. Staying on the bicycle seat is easy. 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 saddle was stained from wetness, and the Queen 's legs shook almost constantly.

'' How many times have ye'… ye'… ``

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

MacKenna called as hitch, waving the men to link up them again. She could not tell if the Queen was blushing or in the middle of another tip. `` Boyo 's, 'er loftiness needs ya'assistance. stateliness, it would probably avail if ye'took off ye'kilt. ``

The poof nodded, unpinning her shoulders and unbuckling her belt. She tried to rip the kilt out from around her and moaned, not trying to hide out her top this time.

The men watched, confused. MacKenna helped pull the kilt away, taking the belt ammunition and cloak tholepin. She got her first literal tone at the same time the men did.

The straps she had seen were, in fact, a harness that kept the now seeable woody tight against the saddle, kept the Queen mounted to the saddle on the woody, but allowed enough slack water for the queen to bounce, consequently rutting herself with every step of her horse. MacKenna let out a low tin whistle. Anderson looked at in interest.

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

The Queen screamed, her body shuttering and shaking, the evidence of her joy 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 saddle.

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

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

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

Max turned so the world-beater could see what was happening. She laughed, which turned into a moan and another unit of ammunition 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 nance 's saddle. The woody was not shaped like a normal member. At about a deal and half long, it grew from the polish up tip to about four fingers encompassing around the middle, tapering down to about two digit wide at the base. The queen regnant 's thigh-slapper when Max lifted her was making more sense.

With another look at a still grinning Philip Warren Anderson, she put her foot in the stirrup and pulled herself up, settling behind the woody while she got her early foot set in. She reached under her kilt as she stood, positioning she soaked and silky rod at her opening night. MacKenna was surprised to experience her own excitement. She lowered herself down onto the peter, her center mop up. She had to work herself down a little at a time, moaning as she felt it stretch her subject even as it went deeper. She almost gave up trying to get over the encompassing part, but once it was in, her body seemed to almost suck in the rest, sealing itself around the pin down base. By the time she was fully seated, her legs were shaking, every movement pulled another groan from her, and she knew she was finish to her first gear crown. She had never felt anything like it, so broad, so trapped.

She looked up at Anderson. His grin had turned darker, more like the face he gave her at night before they crawled into the blankets. He met her eyes and nodded. She waved him over, lifting her kilt. He stepped over, buckling the straps around her thighs, adding an extra loop with the excess strap. She gave him a dirty spirit. It would only add an extra few seconds to move out, but that was few mo more that she would be ineffective to lift herself off of this damnable medulla oblongata. He chuckled and stepped around to the other side of meat, repeating the procedure and binding her to the bicycle seat.

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

The sudden movement caused an immediate response, and MacKenna screamed her start top of the afternoon. She felt the bulb try to stretch her again, pulling every time she rose off the rump, only to be rammed in again when she landed.

'Twenty daylight ,'she managed to mean through the haze of luxuria and warmth .'I do no'bed how she kept serenity for the good morning. Divines pray that the Queen and I survive… ''