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.Corsicanthrax (and Forrestal)	By : keithcompany Category: M through R > Monty Python Views: 1912 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Monty Python, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Zoot audited the knight's treatment from her bedroom. Since Dingo was the one who'd dated a Chirurgeon, Zoot brought her and Carborundum's cage in to help monitor.
A light scarf of imported wool was draped over the mirror and they listened in.
"Now, don't touch yourselves," she warned her captives. "You'll confuse the good doctors."
"No we won't," Dingo replied. "That only works for the mirror's owner. You unpacked it, it's yours."
"Oh. So if you were to lay down and finger yourself while listening… It wouldn't interfere with Piglet or Winston?"
"That is what I just said, sister dear." Zoot returned her sister's oily-sweet smile and leaned near the cage.
"And if I were to spank you again, they wouldn't feel it?"
------
Down in the guest room, they had found the Knight unable to turn over and allow their examination. He was willing, but his cock was stuck to the bedsheet.
Piglet had mobilized half a dozen volunteers to untuck it, wrap it around him and roll the whole assembly over. Then they had gently applied soaking cloths to unstick the fabric.
When it was finally peeled back, a very abused man-stick was revealed. Abrasions and bruises dotted the flesh, with seeping wounds from friction burns, rug burns and overenthusiastic gripping.
Winston chased the laundry crew out and demanded fresh bedclothes. She did not tolerate any comment about it being two months early for new sheets.
Piglet assembled her bottles and Winston filled a kettle. Between the ointments and brews, steeped herbs and preserved aromatics, they fashioned a concoction to bring him immediate relief.
He lay back and whimpered as Piglet crawled onto the bed and knelt down beside him. She gently lifted the purple tip. "No, no," he cried. "It's too hard!"
"It's not hardly hard enough," Winston pointed out from the other side. "That's why it needs treatment!"
"Maybe you should lift it," Piglet suggested, releasing him gently. She and her partner watched him raise his hands. Hoary rough paws they were, calloused from years of fighting for Camelot, training at Camelot and pushing the pram a lot. They would have sworn afterwards that his penis actually cringed from his own touch.
Each woman gently touched him at a wrist and stopped his hands. "No, no, milord," Winston said. "Those are much too mighty instruments of war for this task of therapy." She looked to her partner. "But if our hands are too rough, what would possibly be useful in applying the tonic?"
"Something soft," Piglet mused. She smeared the ointment upon her lips as a balm and leaned down. Winston glanced from the kisses she bestowed and the look on Von Grandis' face.
"I believe you may have hit upon an applicator," she congratulated her colleague. "But how shall we manage to get it everywhere?"
Piglet continued her efforts as Winston cogitated upon the issue. Von Grandis moaned and wriggled. "AHA!" she finally shouted. "Get his feet over the edge of the bed," she told her partner and began to undress.
She knelt beside the bed, between the knight's legs, and smeared the concoction through her cleavage. Piglet lifted the half-erect member as Winston closed her breasts around it. She then squeezed and pumped, stroked and fondled his cock with her firm breasts.
"Oh, that feels so good," Von Grandis groaned.
"You should probably try to stay off of, uh, not use this limb," Winston cautioned him. "A week should clear up all the sores."
"However," Piglet quickly added, "though you should stay off it, as it were, the medication should be applied daily."
"Twice daily," Winston corrected. She raised herself from sitting to kneeling as it was harder to reach the medication to the exam area.
"Twice, yes, that should avoid any altercations over the application," Piglet agreed. She glanced at the still form of the patient. He lay almost as if he had swooned, concentrating on the attentions of the application. "Good heavens, sir, this will not stand!"
He looked at her questioningly. But at his lap, Winston gently sucked at the tip of his cock where it poked out of her cleavage and cut the legs off of any protest.
Piglet undressed and swung a leg over the knight's head. "You should not be moving violently during treatment, good sir knight! I will hold you down, with might and main, to ensure your treatment takes!"
He stared up at the bare nethers hovering over his face. As a German knight, and cursed, he had learned about sex from the boasts of Englishmen at the Round table. Thus he only knew of two things to do with the anatomy that filled his view. Actually, they were the same thing, the difference being with and without the serf's, servant's, maid's or witch's permission.
And while he was enthusiastically learning to use his thing to do that thing, that thing was being monopolized by the other young lady.
"Lick it!" someone shouted. He turned his head in the limited space available and searched the room. There was a tapestry over the fireplace and the voice had seemed to come from that direction. It depicted a knight standing on the steps to a temple where a buxom wench lay nude upon an altar. He and his drawn sword faced a group of ruffians apparently intent on clothing said woman against her will.
"For God's sake," the voice said. It appeared to be coming from the naked woman. "Lick it! Stick out your tongue and pretend it's your cock!"
"Very well, tapestry nude," he replied. She appeared to be in a position to advise him. He closed his eyes, opened his mouth, stuck out his tongue and thought of Briton. A rain wetted Briton. A wet Briton that got ever wetter yet strangely nicer as the time passed.
At his knees, Winston stood up to reach the ever rising cock. Piglet used a finger to slip more of the salve into place. "About time," she muttered, pressing her lips against the tip Winston wasn't covering. At least, she aimed for the tip. She found herself planting the kiss against his belly button. What in the name of Merlin's Pink Come-stain was happening?
Von Grandis became more enthusiastic, if no more skilled. Piglet ignored the mystery of the distant cock and pushed herself back along his torso. His rough hands reached to cradle her hips, feeling rather like a wooden corset warped in the rain.
She wriggled and squirmed under his attentions. "That's it, milord, widen the tongue. Cover much more area that way, dunnit?"
Her perch over his lips became precarious and she nearly slithered off of his chin. The strong hands holding her from hip to ribs lifted and pulled, settling her nicely in place.
She started to push down on his sternum to get more leverage. A squeak reminded her of Winston. She couldn't see the other girl, though the man's man-meat rose majestically up like a big fleshy sun-dial, dripping with restorative.
Then something flashed into and out of view. There was another squeak. Piglet realized that Winston was trying to jump up and grab the cock, but it was just to high.
The young medical professional pushed down with her feet, imagining herself pushing her body to where she could reach down and scoop her partner up. Once again, though, she fell short. Though the thrust surprised the man holding her and he allowed her to squirm free, she just landed, sweaty and slick, on his belly.
Then she slid towards his crotch, hands sticking out to either side of the cock. She grabbed Winston's wrists and pulled.
Winston's feet pumped until she could get purchase against the side of the bed, then she used Piglet's grip to help climb up and perch on the huge thigh. The paired paramedics stared at each other for a moment.
"You're so small!" Piglet squealed.
"You, too!" Winston protested.
After a second, both gazes slid inexorably towards the object of their medical arts.
"And he's so biiiiiiiiiiig," they said together.
Five minutes later, Zoot burst into the room and strode to the bed. "Sorry, sorry," she said as she came around to where his feet dangled. "It's just that they can't get too small or we'll be out of any sort of medical- Oh, my."
She reached down to pinch Winston's waist between two careful fingers and lifted her from her roost upon Von Grandis' balls. There was some sort of high-pitched squealing as the tiny figure kicked and swung. She dropped the woman down into her shift.
Piglet writhed across his belly, licking frantic strokes across his cock. "Ith okay," she protested as she was tried to keep licking while avoiding Zoot's grip. "Ith okay! All our elithirs an oinmenth are edibul! Juth like Dingoth lintherie!"
"Honestly!" Zoot said as she eased another captive into her cleavage. "Some people just have no self…" She licked her lips at the sight of the well-lubricated staff of life just before her. "…control," she finished weakly.
She established a rule that Von Grandis could take no more meals within his room. He'd have to dress for dinner as the rest of them. And there would be no unseemly behavior at the communal gatherings for breakfast, lunch, dinner and midnight rations, on pain of having to turn in all their adult-rated scrolls.
Then she made yet another trip to the gallery with a basket and once more climbed the steps to her rooms with a protesting basket of wiggly nudity.
-----
By the end of the first fortnight of Von Grandis' assault upon Castle Anthrax Zoot realized that things were started to unravel. She hadn't quite noticed how much effort was involved in preparing the food for eight score young blondes and brunettes, all between the ages of twenty three and a half and twenty seven. Even with so many reduced to the size of Leprechauns, and thus demanding less in the ways of food or other services, the Castle's infrastructure was poorly served by the remaining staff.
The initiates had always borne the brunt of the physical labor while the more senior girls had done the planning, auditing, budgeting, volunteering and organizing a whip-round for flowers. Being senior also put a girl to the front of the line for feeding or bathing guests, so the disappearances were disproportionately skewed towards the managers.
The initiates were slowly taking over the administrative duties, but out of desperation, not promotion.
Zoot had a thought. She stalked into the sewing room and made a quick head count. Very nearly half of the women from Anthrax occupied the cages, tanks and terrariums she had been collecting.
Arthur's plan to reduce Anthrax may have been well on the way, without a single catapult being fired.
She stepped carefully past a silken noose and paced the hallway outside her bedroom. Something had to be done. Other than the knight, of course.
He was grateful for the chance to explore his sensual side, but he still saw the Castle denizens as evil wantons preying upon Briton's populace.
Well, Zoot wasn't going to apologize for that, but she was going to have to put a stop to the shrinking. But how?
Zoot looked down the dining table towards the woman on Von Grandis' left. "Fifi!" she said sharply.
"Huh? What?" she replied. Her deep blue eyes slid off of the Knight and flickered across Zoot's face.
"Pass the Salt," Zoot repeated. Fifi complied, sliding the box over and apologizing to the man for jogging his elbow as he tried to eat his soup. Zoot opened the box and took a pinch for her jellied eel.
Von Grandis swallowed and continued his tale of fighting the Arthritic Berserker of Montpelitier. "And then I merely dropped my weapon to the ground before him. He lifted one foot to kick it to the side where I couldn't reach it. I counted to ten, and once his balance was as bad as possible, I tossed the sack of potatoes at him. He caught them, tipped over and I slew his before he could regain his feet."
All the girls clapped to congratulate his bravery and tactical skills. And with that, dinner was over. Zoot directed the girls to clean the place up, promised to choose someone to apply his medication later and escorted him to his rooms. He offered his elbow most gallantly and she took it gracefully.
"Tell me, Von Grandis," she asked on the stairs. "We've seen the speed and limits of your curse. Any woman that serves to sex you slowly shrinks. But what, I wonder, would happen should you sleep with a man."
He recoiled, stumbling on the stairs. "How can you ASK such a thing?" he shouted.
"Naturally," she said easily. "As I recall, you've called me a wanton, a strumpet, a trumpet, Jezebel, a fallen woman, a whore, slut, hustler, tramp, streetwalker, and a few more that indicate quite a judgmental, and misogynistic, vocabulary. So. No idea?"
"Actually," he said slowly, "one of the fairy queen's court spoke on that topic. To engage in such…unseemly behavior. Well, the queen would have considered that… Enlightened." He shivered in disgust. "To accept the attentions of a manly man on my manhood, or feel one, would cause her to relent. The curse would be broken."
"Would it now?" she asked with a playful smile.
"Aha," he said with an answering smile. "You scheme. But I remind you, there's not another man in many leagues of Castle Anthrax. And it would take quite some time to find one."
"Indeed," she murmured. "Still, in the meantime, I have had a thought." They passed the sentry, who curtsied deeply to the knight. Zoot signaled silently for privacy. The sentry turned the number being served from 64 back to 14.
"What's that?" he asked.
"Is there any place you have not indulged yourself with? Sexually, I mean," she added.
"Um…" He looked back and forth as she opened the room, glancing to up at his tapestry advisor. "Well, I haven't done it on an altar, yet."
Her lips twisted wryly, but she merely tried again. "Is there anything, any place, any part of the womanly form you have not penetrated to slake your lusts?"
"Oh, sure," he said. He began to tick places off on his fingers. "The ear. The other ear. The nostrils."
He muttered softly past the places he had come upon, with or towards. Zoot reached around his body to remove his clothes and heard hair, boobs, fingers, elbows, mouth, mouth, lips, teeth, mouth, vagina, rear vaginal entry and thigh.
"What?" she said in a shocked tone. "You haven't penetrated any girl's shapely anus?" He looked shocked again. "Oh, grow up. Think about the tightest place your Little Knight has explored. Then imagine it tighter, and with, if I do say so myself, fanTASTIC muscular control."
"What?" he said, confused but intrigued. In answer she lifted a hand and inserted one finger into her mouth. She tightened her lips around the digit, working her mouth muscles to tease and entice. Then she moved his hand, dragging her lips back and forth as the finger pumped her face.
"Now, imagine that were your-" He growled and lifted her bodily. She bounced once upon the bed and rolled to her hands and knees. In seconds he was behind her, lifting surcote in haste. His clothes and boots remained in place, such was his hurry.
He also didn't notice the mirror at the foot of the bed, mounted right next to the jar of love-jelly from Dingo's private stash.
Zoot dipped her fingers in the jar and spread the material on and between her cheeks. He clenched his teeth and pressed himself against her.
The scholars' advice for this matching was the same for every century consulted.
Firft, yee muft relax yon sphincter wit digit single. Pour (apply, dofe, paint) herr area wit lubrication, to the defired depth. An ye canft reach it, it be not too deepeft.
Von Grandis grasped not this practical knowledge, thus he found the portcullis down when he tried the gate. Diligent thrusting, however, allowed him to worm his way inside.
Zoot assisted as she could, trying to cooperate and desperately working to match his frequency. She felt him slide in, an inch at a time, then retreat. It was hard to relax for his rough entry, but she enjoyed resisting his departure. He started to moan, to groan, to cry out the names of Saints martyred for preaching upon market days.
He became the teeniest bit tighter and Zoot made her move. She turned to face the mirror at the foot of the bed. It showed them from the headboard's view. She watched the mirror couple copulate, then concentrated.
The pressure in her ass was repeated in his. "What the hell?" he screamed, "Penetration is perpetrated!" He tried to twist around to see who was there, what they were doing. She used her thighs to trap him, her sight to warp him. He couldn't bring himself to stop screwing Zoot, and that action was already in synch with the ghost-penetrations rhythm. He shouted in terror and dismay, and screwed in fury and glee.
Zoot kept her eye on the mirror. She may or may not have dropped a dress size, she wasn’t sure. But suddenly Von Grandis came. He shot into her and blue lightning bounced around the room.
The curse, and his manly self image, were undone.
------
"We are the women of Castle Anthrax!" she told the assembled girls. "We are four score and five young blondes and brunettes, all between the ages of twenty three and a half and twenty seven. It has been many years since anyone visited this place. And longer since anyone joined our order."
She stepped down from the stage and walked among the lines. "Too long have our juniors been unable to advance, for the seniors have had no where to go. Well, I'm here to say, those days are over!"
She climbed back to the stage where a miserable man sat on a stool and contemplated his shame. "King Arthur has sent his man to destroy us." She glanced down at his broken posture. "So, we will need volunteers to return this man to Camelot." Arms shot into the air. She ignored them.
"We also need to recruit a few women. We have beds for another four score initiates. Because all of you have been advanced to at least Apprentice status." They cheered but none lowered their arms.
"But unfortunately, we have all gained additional responsibilities." Expressions froze and eyes met. Curious looks passed around the meeting hall. Zoot waited for a moment then pulled the tarp off of the stacks of cages. Four score (or so) tiny women looked out at four score dressed ones. Shock ruled on one side, dismal resignation on the other.
Zoot picked up the first cage, the one with Saraset clinging to the songbird perch inside. "Apprentice Rose," she called. That lovely rushed to the stage and climbed the steps. "I need you to take care of your former Anthrax sister. The curse that made her so has been broken, but unless and until the effects can be lifted, she'll have to be your private, personal ward."
"Ooh, yes, Mistress," Rose said breathily.
"You'll have to feed Saraset, and wash her and dress her and see that she gets exercise and doesn't get hurt."
Rose reached a finger through the bars and stroked a tiny, shapely thigh. "Ooh, yes, Mistress," she repeated.
"Very well. Go now and take her to your room and get her settled." It was a wonder Rose managed down the stairs as she never looked away from her new pet. Zoot shook her head and reached for another cage.
"Apprentice Humphrey!"
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.Corsicanthrax (and Forrestal)