The Erotic Adventures Of King Arthur

An eBook By Eleanor Tremaine.

When Myrddin came to our estate, which he did at least twice a year while Arthur was with us, he always regaled Arthur and me with lays and legends which he sang to us, accompanying himself on his harp. He, of course, always sang and played for the entire compound we lived in. But for us two boys, he sang the Mabinogion in its entirety every time. I have no musical abilities at all, but in my off-key way, I can sing much of the epic myself from memory of Myrddin's performances. He sang of the heros of our British race, Gwion, Kynan, Meriodoc, and the rest. He also sang of the times in which we lived, with lively tales of Theodoric, Clovis, and the other emperors on the Continent. I was always enchanted by the old man's singing. But, I couldn't stand the man himself. He was never pleasant to be around except when he was playing his harp. Otherwise he was cross, cantankerous, and just downright rude. During his interminable stays at Castrec, Myrddin took Arthur out into the woods to instruct him in the evil Old Ways of Wycha (5). It was clear to me that Arthur was more inclined towards the pagan teachings of Myrddin than the holy teachings of Father Byrhferth. Father seemed blind to the evil that Myrddin was stirring into Arthur's soul from the beginning.

Brigid had been removed from our bedroom, of course, by the time Arthur was five years old. But, she arranged to meet him in the stables when he was about six. I know, because I secretly followed him when he sneaked away to meet her. They lay down in the hayloft, and undressed. They caressed each other in most unseemly ways. How do I know? Because I found a hidden spot on the other side of the loft, from which I could watch, unseen. Why did I bother to watch these sinful scenes? I thought perhaps I would someday be able to explain to Arthur how wrong it was for him to submit to such odious practices. Perhaps it would help to save his soul. But, oh, my. The things they did there in that loft.

Arthur started to grow light face-hair when he was thirteen. I was, of course, sixteen that same year, and I was just barely cultivating the fuzz on my own upper lip. Arthur, although younger than me, always seemed to be my age or older physically. Back then, when he was thirteen, after we would go to bed, he would play with himself. He played with himself until he made a mess in his nightclothes. I did talk to him about that.

"Arthur, I see you playing with yourself at night before you go to sleep. I believe that is not a virtuous thing to do."

"Oh, come off it, Cai. I'll bet you do the same thing when I'm not looking."

certainly do not!" I huffed.

"How about dreams, eh, Cai? Don't you sometimes dream of girls in the night? And don't you wake up with your bedclothes as spotted as mine when I've been pleasuring myself?"

had to admit that I had such dreams. And Arthur just laughed, and said, "See. There can't be anything very wrong with that if a good Christian lad like you has experiences when his mind is asleep."

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