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They use The Chair to help her friend.

Suddenly a striking bolt hit her body. Her legs thrashed and jerked in paroxysmal ecstasy. Like he would have tightened the reins riding a rearing thoroughbred, Lancelot took a handful of her silky blonde locks and yanked her head back. And thus, Queen Guinevere, speared to the hilt, her glistening body, snorting and cavorting in carnal bliss, finally died the mort d'amour in sweet agony.

Respectfully Lancelot let the orgasmic waves slowly flow away. Lovingly he looked down at her beautiful body. At the dew of minute short blonde hairs that covered her shoulders and arms, at the slender contours of her neck, the pearly drops of sweat on her heaving body and her pink lips, slightly open to allow her to breath heavily.

Guinevere was slowly recovering from the orgasmic fireworks that had shaken her body when she heard his whispering voice.

"My Queen... You are so beautiful... Let me make love to thee again...

She knew this was the wrong way... and she had to do something about it... immediately...

"I cannot love thee as a Queen, Sir Lancelot. That would be wrong because I can do so only to the King. But let me love thee as a wench... You had wenches before... I know thou had your ribald years when thou were young... Force me to do all the nasty things those women did to pleasure thee... I do not deserve anything better..."

"My Queen... How could I? Didn't I dedicate my sword and my life to serve thee as a Queen?"

Guinevere made a quick decision. This was going nowhere as she had considered already. She surely needed the services of his sword badly. But not the sword he spoke of...

"So be it... "

She rose. Nude as she was, Guinevere managed to assume the posture of a Queen.

"If thou really want to serve me, Sir Lancelot... Kneel down and kiss my feet..."

Lancelot was caught off guard by her command. It was completely different from what he expected. It seemed so out of character to him. But he never had questioned one of her requests in the past and he certainly wouldn't start now. He had to kneel down deeply to kiss the foot she offered him. Tenderly he brushed his lips over her ankle, the returning slowly to her toes. Guinevere had trouble to remain standing. She better finished her plan or she would fall.

"Do thee worship the ground I walk on...?"

"Thou knowest I do, my Queen... I told thee so this morning"

"Then kiss it, Sir Lancelot. Kiss the floor where I place my foot now!"

Lancelot still didn't have the faintest idea where this was leading to, but he was not going to argue. He lowered his head even more to kiss the floor where she just placed her feet before.

"Keep kissing the floor while I move over where I can watch thee crawling before me"

Lancelot started to feel uncomfortable when he realized Guinevere moved around him. With his naked bottom in the air he felt strangely vulnerable. He heard a scuffling sound behind him and then the silken touch of her hair caressing his cheeks. Before he even realized what was going on a tender, loving mouth was pressed on his anus... A tongue circling along the rim... pointing and pushing to come inside...

"Will thou accept me now as thy wench, milord? Do thou feel, how I am licking thine arse...!"?

Lancelot realized he was tricked. Guinevere had ambushed him and unexpectedly hit him at one of his most vulnerable spots. His tense body relaxed. He just surrendered himself to her obscene attentions. Her nose buried itself in the loose skin of his hairy balls. He heard the slurping noises of her mouth, sucking in the fluid around his anus. She stabbed her tongue in his murky depths as far as she could.

"Yield and accept me as thy wench or indeed I will leave thee in this room as thou are..."

Lancelot knew when he was defeated and never would be more delighted to accept defeat then now, being at the mercy of the lips and hands of this wonderful woman warrior. He turned around, clenched a handful of her blonde hair and forcefully pushed Guinevere to the bed,

"Bend over, we

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