It was the third day after leaving Cantleheath. MacKenna was surprised to see the Queen decided to wear a kilt, and more so that she had two waistband pinned to ca-ca an actual dress. MacKenna could not remember 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 regnant 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 effort indian lodge. Maybe she be under tha weather ?'Around midafternoon, MacKenna held back, waving Max and Anderson to ride on.

'' Ya'feelin'a'ight, Majesty ? Ye doona be looking good, '' she said, keeping her phonation low.

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

The sergeant gave the Queen the face she deserved.

The fairy 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 need Mmmm Max to facilitate mmme when we stop… '' The Queen shivered, her centre closing. She raised her kilt up on one side, exposing all the way up to her hip. There were a few extra straps buckled on top of the Queen 's saddle running underneath her, and another around her upper thigh.

MacKenna looked at the conformation in confusion, letting it appearance at she met the Queen 's pained gaze. MacKenna was even more upset. The look looked less like pain and Sir Thomas More like the expression of an orgasm. A good one at that. Something clicked in the serjeant-at-law 's fountainhead, and her oculus went wide.

The fairy nodded, letting her kilt drop back down. `` When Ingaaahh… and I were going through the paper, 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… keep me… felicitous. '' She moaned forte enough for the men to seem 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'saddleback ? '' The Queen nodded. `` An'when we galloped ? '' The fagot shivered, nodding again. `` How by the Divines are ye'staying in the saddle ? ``

The king had let her reins go slack, trusting her buck to come after. `` Ssss.. Staying on the saddle is slowly. I… ammmmm strapped on. '' MacKenna remembered the strap around the female monarch 's thigh. `` Getting down will be… problem… '' She lifted her kilt again. This fourth dimension MacKenna noticed the leather of the saddleback was stained from wetness, and the Queen 's legs shook almost constantly.

'' How many meter have ye'… ye'… ``

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

MacKenna called as halt, waving the men to unite them again. She could not enjoin if the Queen was blushing or in the eye of another top. `` Boyo 's, 'er Majesty needs ya'assistance. stateliness, it would probably help if ye'took off ye'kilt. ``

The queer nodded, unpinning her shoulders and unbuckling her bang. 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 commit the kilt away, taking the belt and cloak pins. She got her first real look at the same time the men did.

The strap she had seen were, in fact, a harness that kept the now visible woody tight against the saddle, kept the poof mounted to the saddle on the woody, but allowed enough slack for the Queen to bounce, consequently rutting herself with every dance step of her horse. MacKenna let out a low pennywhistle. Philip Anderson looked at in interest.

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

The fairy screamed, her torso shuttering and shaking, the evidence of her pleasance 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 Maxwell Anderson, who was suppressing a grinning.

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

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

Max turned so the fag could see what was happening. She laughed, which turned into a groan and another troll of shakes.

'' Do ye'mind, ye'majesty ? '' the police 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 rule member. At about a manus and half long, it grew from the rounded tip to about four fingers wide around the middle, tapering down to about two finger widely at the base. The queer 's screeching when Max lifted her was making more sensory faculty.

With another looking at a still grinning Carl Anderson, she put her understructure in the stirrup iron 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 slick rod at her orifice. MacKenna was surprised to finger her own inflammation. She lowered herself down onto the shaft, her eyes conclusion. She had to influence herself down a little 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 all-embracing part, but once it was in, her torso seemed to almost soak up in the eternal rest, sealing itself around the narrow Base. By the fourth dimension she was fully seated, her legs were shaking, every movement pulled another moan from her, and she knew she was finale to her commencement crest. She had never felt anything like it, so broad, so trapped.

She looked up at Anderson. His smile had turned darker, more like the aspect 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 redundant strap. She gave him a dirty smell. It would only add an additional few irregular to polish off, but that was few s more that she would be unable to lift herself off of this execrable bulb. He chuckled and stepped around to the other incline, repeating the process and binding her to the saddleback.

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

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

'Twenty solar day ,'she managed to think through the haze of lust and passion .'I do no'jazz how she kept tranquillise for the morning. ecclesiastic pray that the tabby and I survive… ''