It was the third day after leaving Cantleheath. MacKenna was surprised to see the Queen decided to wear off a kilt, and more so that she had two sashes pinned to take a crap an literal dress. MacKenna could not commend her wearing anything more than a shawl or cloak. The Queen had been mounted and waiting before the rest of them were, too. She normally walked until midmorning. The sergeant knew the Queen had not lain with anyone but her maid, so it was not that she could be with shaver. 'She does look dire flushed in de face, and she be sweatin'like she 'd been in a sweat society. Maybe she be under tha weather ?'Around midafternoon, MacKenna held back, waving Max and Anderson to ride on.

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

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

The police sergeant gave the Queen the flavour she deserved.

The fagot 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 involve Mmmm Max to help mmme when we stop… '' The Queen shivered, her eyes windup. She raised her kilt up on one side, exposing all the way up to her hip. There were a few extra strap buckled on top of the Queen 's bicycle seat running underneath her, and another around her upper thigh.

MacKenna looked at the configuration in confusion, letting it appearance at she met the queen regnant 's pain gaze. MacKenna was even Sir Thomas More confused. The expression looked less like pain and more like the expression of an climax. A undecomposed one at that. Something clicked in the serjeant 's promontory, and her eyes went wide.

The tabby nodded, letting her kilt drop back down. `` When Ingaaahh… and I were going through the newspaper publisher, weeee… found conception 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 brassy 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 fag nodded. `` An'when we galloped ? '' The Queen shivered, nodding again. `` How by the divine are ye'staying in the saddle ? ``

The Queen had let her reins go slack, trusting her horse cavalry to follow. `` Ssss.. Staying on the saddle is easygoing. 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 count at fifteen… around midmorning. ``

MacKenna called as halt, waving the men to join them again. She could not tell if the fairy was blushing or in the centre of another peak. `` Boyo 's, 'er Majesty needs ya'assistance. Majesty, it would probably help oneself if ye'took off ye'kilt. ``

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

The men watched, confused. MacKenna helped pull the kilt away, taking the belt and cloak pins. She got her first material flavor at the Same time 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 pouf mounted to the bicycle seat on the woody, but allowed decent drop-off for the poove to bounce, consequently rutting herself with every pace of her cavalry. MacKenna let out a low whistle. Anderson looked at in interest.

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

The Queen screamed, her organic structure shuttering and quivering, the evidence of her pleasure squirting from her now that the male plug had been removed from her sex. Max laughed again, cradling the still twitching and moaning fagot as he climbed back into his saddle.

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

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

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

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

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

The queen regnant raised her manus, waving before curling against Max.

MacKenna looked up at the Queen 's saddle. The woody was not shaped like a formula member. At about a hand and half long, it grew from the rounded tip to about four finger wide around the middle, tapering down to about two fingerbreadth wide at the radix. The fagot 's scream when Max lifted her was making more sense.

With another flavor at a still grinning Anderson, she put her foot in the stirrup iron and pulled herself up, settling behind the woody while she got her other animal foot set in. She reached under her kilt as she stood, positioning she soaked and sly rod at her orifice. MacKenna was surprised to feel her own excitation. She lowered herself down onto the prick, her center shutdown. She had to run herself down a little at a time, moaning as she felt it adulterate her open even as it went deeper. She almost gave up trying to get over the wide division, but once it was in, her torso seemed to almost suckle in the rest, sealing itself around the pin down base. By the time she was fully seated, her legs were shaking, every apparent motion pulled another groan from her, and she knew she was finis to her first gear crest. She had never felt anything like it, so full, so trapped.

She looked up at Anderson. His grinning had turned darker, more like the look he gave her at dark before they crawled into the mantle. He met her eyes and nodded. She waved him over, lifting her kilt. He stepped over, buckling the straps around her second joint, adding an spare loop with the supernumerary strap. She gave him a dirty flavour. It would only add an surplus few secondment to withdraw, but that was few irregular more that she would be ineffective to swipe herself off of this damnable bulb. He chuckled and stepped around to the former side of meat, repeating the process and binding her to the saddle.

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

The sudden movement caused an contiguous response, and MacKenna screamed her first crest of the afternoon. She felt the medulla try to stretch out her again, pulling every prison term she rose off the seat, only to be rammed in again when she landed.

'Twenty days ,'she managed to suppose through the haze of lustfulness and mania .'I do no'acknowledge how she kept quiet for the sunup. Maker pray that the Queen and I survive… ''