The Queen of Fecundia knew she needed an heir, so she needed a stud. Would it be the exotic stallion with strength and experience, the worldly mustang with hedonistic temptations, or the trainable colt with devotion and aspirations? Would her heart, body, and mind agree on the choice to be made?
Queen Jeena always thought of her people first. Tall and strong like her father, she was known far and wide as a capable ruler. Fecundia was named appropriately, as it occupied a broad, fertile plain between the mountains and the river. Her kingdom, or queendom as it had been since her father died, was prosperous and peaceful, thanks to good relations with the neighboring countries.
A problem that simmered in the back of her mind was: What would happen when she was gone? Jeena was about to reach her thirtieth birthday with no suitable husband. More than a few kings and princes had made their interest known, but she had found none to her liking. A husband was desirable, but an heir was essential. Perhaps compromises must be made.
All knew of the tragedy of Old Paleoland, a neighboring kingdom that fell into generations of chaos when it was left without a clear line of succession. Her father had helped it recover, and relations with New Paleoland were good.
Her content citizens had planned a celebration for her birthday. Some new and past suitors were making appearances. There were three days of parades, feasting, and dancing.
The last afternoon, there was an odd moment as a long line of subjects brought gifts to bestow. Some wealthy merchants lavished gold and jewels. Some artisans proffered hand-crafted items. A child gave a portrait of the queen she had painted.
Jeena accepted them all graciously. The end of the line brought an old woman before her. Dressed plainly rather than for a party, she bowed respectfully before she spoke. Most in the room were already whispering about the next event and paid no attention to one such as her.
“Dear Queen,” her voice was old but strong and her eyes were bright, fixing Jeena’s attention. “My humble gift can help relieve the irritations that may afflict you.”
She removed something from its burlap wrapping and held it out. Some who were still paying attention gasped; others laughed. It looked to be made of wood; whether carved or natural, Jeena could not immediately tell. It resembled nothing so much as a human forearm and hand bones. A stick about that long ended with a few finger-like extensions.
To demonstrate its utility, she mimed scratching her back with it, before laying it carefully at the queen’s feet.
A page reached for it, but Jeena stopped him, standing and bending to pick up this last gift ceremoniously. “I thank you, one and all,” her voice silenced the room, “for your many thoughtful and generous gifts. I must retire to prepare for the ball.”
Noticing the face of the woman, joyful to see the queen holding her gift, Jeena held onto it as she made her exit. Inspecting it more closely as she walked to her quarters made it no less peculiar. She idly set it on her nightstand as her attendants bustled about, getting her ready for the gala ball that was the capstone of her birthday festivities.
That night, she danced with many princes and narrowed her choice down to three. Ricardo was ten years older, strong, handsome, and well able to rule a kingdom. Geoffrey was her age, dashing, cute, and funny. Jason, almost a decade younger, was well-mannered and well-educated.
Without letting the others know, she approached each of the three and suggested he stay on after the celebration. She would arrange a day in the coming week to spend alone with him.
It was well after midnight before she could leave the festivities and head back to her bedroom. Her ladies-in-waiting helped free her from the elaborate gown and jewelry. When they had left, Jeena stretched out in her bed, her feet aching from the evening’s exertions.
As she tried to find sleep, an itch on the sole of her left foot nagged at her. Scratching it with the big toe of her right foot brought a moment of relief, but it returned. The more she scratched, the more it seemed to itch, and the more she tried to put it out of her mind, the more it demanded attention. She was reaching for the bell to call an attendant to come to rub her feet when her hand found the old woman’s gift.
How fortuitous, she thought, to have the solution arrive before the problem.
Eyeing the oddly-shaped implement skeptically, she pointed it toward her foot. Uncertain of its durability, she first drew the fingers along the itching sole lightly. The feeling was strange, more like real fingers than the bony projections, with a touch so light it tickled. Pressing more firmly, she was sure she felt a hand on her foot and she yanked it away in surprise. Unable to resist trying again, she soon concluded that it was no illusion.
This device must be enchanted! she thought. I must remember to find out who that old woman is.
As she used it more boldly, Jeena could feel a second hand join the first, giving her feet a massage as good as the best of her attendants. It was so soothing and relaxing, she was asleep before she knew it.
In the morning, she awoke refreshed and had forgotten the whole episode until she saw the scratcher, as she began to think of it, on her nightstand. She picked it up and gingerly touched it to her foot, but it just felt like a stick against her skin. Confused, Jeena thought perhaps she had dreamt it all, but her feet did feel wonderful, which was surprising given the hours of dancing the night before.
With the birthday celebration behind her, she needed to move on to considering her three suitors. That day she would have lunch with Prince Ricardo of Latinia in the North Tower, the highest point of the castle.
His dark hair and eyes, bronze skin, and exotic accent from the far south had caused many a maiden to swoon. The third oldest son of a king, he knew he would not inherit that throne, so he sought another. Skilled as an ambassador as well as a general, he might well make a worthy husband.
The secret meeting, known only to the most trusted and tight-lipped, would allow them to meet casually, without all the pomp. After several days of large and heavy gowns, jewelry and shoes, Jeena felt light in her simple frock and slippers. Ricardo, too, wore a comfortable shirt and pants without medals or epaulets.
Over lunch, they discussed the affairs of the kingdom. From the tower, they could see as far as the mountains of New Paleoland. In the other direction, the wide river was both the boundary and the means of commerce with the domains to the west and beyond. The queen well noted the interest and insights that Ricardo offered.
When the dishes had been removed and the two were left alone, they adjourned to a comfortable couch. The queen broached the subject of his bachelorhood at his age.
“Certainly you understand that I have been available if my father needed to seal an alliance,” he said. “There have been many women who have willingly served my needs in the meantime.”
“Yes,” Jeena nodded, “love, sex, and marriage are often separately decided among our kind.”
“My father has other sons, now more suitable than I for such marriages,” he laughed. “So I must find my own path.”
They had been moving toward each other on the couch, eyes seeking eyes. Ricardo abruptly closed the remaining inches, placing his hand behind the queen’s head and pressing his warm lips to hers.
Face to face, he whispered seductively, “When I sense agreement, I move quickly to conclude negotiations.”
The contact sent a thrill through her body, and she reached to pull herself against him. Indeed, he seemed to have known her attraction to him before she admitted it to herself. His shoulders and arms were firm and strong and she felt her will bending to his. His fingers found her buttons in the back; hers found his in the front; together they loosened their garments.
Her full breasts found cool air but warm flesh as they pressed against his chest. Hands massaged skin eager for touch as their breathing grew hotter.
Ricardo stood and stepped out of his pants. The queen eyed his tall, muscular form, with the shape and hue of a bronze statue. What dangled between his legs would have been too lewd for public display. Its length and girth exceeded Jeena’s experience. By the angle, she judged it had yet more to attain.
Mesmerized by the organ, she allowed him to lift her legs and tug the dress off of her. It was his turn to feast his eyes on her body. Her breasts, large but not pendulous, were well suited to her frame, which tapered to her waist before swelling to sturdy hips. The dark triangle of her nether fur topped long legs that did not deserve to be hidden by layers of skirts.
She raised her arms to welcome him on top of her. One foot on the floor, one knee on the couch, he bent over her. Her hands, behind his neck, pulled their mouths together.
He shifted lower, his mouth seeking her breasts as his hand probed between her legs. His tongue wet her nipples as her pussy wet his fingers. She followed his lead as he lifted her leg to get better access to her opening. As unsure as she was that she could fully accommodate that massive cock, so was she sure that she wanted to try.
Stirring her folds with it, he received and spread her lubricant with the round head. She inhaled sharply when she felt it indent her opening. Ricardo pressed his lips against hers, giving her a moment to relax before he pushed into her.
When he paused with just the head past the threshold, the queen sighed a long, “Yes.” Although stretched, she felt she could handle this dimension of him.
Skillfully, he drove inward, slowly, by inches, in, then out, then in farther. He seemed to know when it was all she could take—for the moment. His retreats and forays grew longer as he set a rhythm.
Unlike her usually active lovemaking, all Jeena could do was respond to him. All she could do was focus on how he slid in and out of her cunt, filling her so completely, then creating such a vacuum that needed to be refilled. All she could do was stare up into the dark depths of his eyes as he stared down into hers.
As Jeena’s moans showed her readiness, he accelerated his movements. Losing control of her passion, she raced to the brink of ecstasy. Her body ignited, and she heard herself groan as Ricardo’s pounding drove her ass into the couch, the impacts causing her breasts to jiggle madly. It was just a matter of time, and not much at that, before the lightning struck. The flash of heat was followed by an echoing roar of pleasure that contorted her limbs.
He kept thrusting as Jeena gasped and moaned, his fierce expression replaced with a smile of satisfaction.
“I love watching a woman’s face when she climaxes,” his gentle voice belied the intensity that they both felt. Jeena was still flushed from her orgasm, but his words, in that accent of his, generated new heat.
“You are a rare woman,” he continued, and she relished every word. “I think you are big and strong enough to take me fully.”
Jeena was not in a state of mind to grasp what he said, but she offered no resistance. So far, he seemed to know her better than she knew herself. He withdrew from her and stood up, directing her with strong hands to roll over onto her knees on the couch. Ricardo took her ass and moved her to the height he wanted, her legs spread wide to reach it.
Standing behind her, her channel still flowing with liquid and stretched wider by her position, his cock easily sank into her depths. Jeena had no idea how much he had withheld the first time but she was ready to take it all.
Grabbing her hips, he proved his claim, driving deeper and harder. With the freedom of movement, Ricardo’s passion and his organ seemed to grow, larger and hotter. Jeena could only surrender to him; the tight slippery friction overwhelmed her, driving her not to one leap but to a continuous, crashing waterfall of pleasure.
As he had predicted, she was handling all of him and he showed no further restraint. He reached to grab her hair, pulling her head up off the couch, arching her back, making her meet his every thrust. For Jeena, there seemed no ending possible; every nerve in her body was in delicious flames. Her head jerked by his grasp of her hair; she closed her eyes. She could only wait for Ricardo, and he seemed to be in no hurry.
His voice was a rumble as he approached his culmination. Only the sound of his grunts gave her notice that he was spurting deep inside her. The pummeling from his cock masked any more delicate sensation.
When he stopped, releasing her hair, leaning his sweaty chest against her sweaty back, Jeena felt her own burning subside. Whether she had endured one long orgasm or many, or been kept interminably on the verge, she didn’t know. She was loath to move and risk losing the warm fullness between her legs.
As her senses slowly returned, she thought she knew for the first time how the mare feels about the stallion, and guessed that Ricardo well knew how the stallion feels.
To maintain the secrecy of the rendezvous, the queen had to leave, her dearest lady-in-waiting seeming to know when to arrive with a dressing gown. There were no more words to exchange. Donning the garment, she embraced the naked prince, mopping the sweat from his back with her sleeve, making a mental note not to have it laundered too soon. With a passionate kiss, they returned to their formal lives, the decision not yet made.
That night, Jeena again had trouble falling asleep, despite being worn out from the afternoon activity. Her neck was sore from the unaccustomed strain, as was her groin. After an hour of fitful tossing and turning, she again thought to ring for an attendant but remembered the scratcher. She held it tentatively and pointed it at her neck.
As she had hoped, the odd wand spread warmth to her neck and upper back. The initial gentle touch of a single hand grew firmer and seemed to become a pair as she stroked her shoulders and neck. It eased the tension throughout her body. As before, she woke in the morning feeling wonderful, but with no memory of finishing the massage and returning the device to the nightstand.
Again, she touched it to herself, but in the light of day, with no ill to remedy, the scratcher was just a stick.
The search for a husband continued. Widely-traveled, Geoffrey promised more exotic pleasures. Would he just be a plaything for the queen’s amusement, or could he become a true partner?
The queen had hidden the bon vivant in the head cook’s quarters. The chef didn’t mind relinquishing his room for a few days in exchange for some new recipes. People from Sybarisia were known for their love of food and Geoffrey had a well-deserved reputation in that regard.
The prince had prepared quite a lunch for Jeena. She loved tasting all the delicacies and drinking the wines he brought to sample. The conversation wandered through the different styles of music and other entertainments, clothing, and food, as well as events and sights from the many places he had traveled. The queen hung on his every word.
The main meal completed, they adjourned to the couch; proximity incited caresses and kisses as they talked. Before serving dessert, he brought out a small box of powder and added it to the tea.
“This will make our love-making even more intense,” he promised. She didn’t mind that he made the assumption. Her body already tingled from the wine and the conversation.
The dessert remained half-eaten as the enhanced tea worked its magic. Jeena felt an intense longing grow between her legs and almost ripped the last buttons from the prince’s shirt. Wanting no more delay, she stood up and disposed of her dress and undergarments as if they were on fire.
Geoffrey’s eyes grew big at the sight of her body, but not in an entirely approving way. In fact, the prince almost chose not to say anything, the beauty he beheld far outweighing the flaw. “My dear queen,” his voice showed some hesitance, “Are you not aware of the current fashion in foreign capitals?”
“I have not been able to travel much,” Jeena confessed but was surprised by the timing of his remark. “Why do you talk of fashion when I am wearing nothing at all?”
The prince laughed as gently as possible. “I refer to the thick wool coat you have between your legs.”
Jeena’s puzzled shock and embarrassment were disarmed by Geoffrey’s smiling face as well as the amount of wine they had consumed. This was fashion she had never heard of.
“Many women remove it completely,” he dared to imagine her that way.
“I do not wish to look like a child!” she retorted.
“Indeed, yet those who wish to maintain a womanly aspect still tend their gardens, trimming and shaping to show their care and attention to the area. Either way, they find visitors want to spend more time there.”
“What would you advise?” she asked, the growing unrest between her legs demanding a quick resolution.
Geoffrey pretended to be deep in thought, but grinned broadly as he presented his proposal, “I could do it for you! I would reduce the main forest and leave a womanly woods, say in the shape of a heart. Below and along the sides, you would be smooth and beguiling. Once your ladies see it, they will be able to maintain it for you. And I dare say the style will catch on here as it has elsewhere.”
Before she could agree or disagree, the prince disappeared and returned with his shaving implements. He had obtained a basin of steaming water from the nearby kitchen. Spreading a towel on the floor for her to lie on, he lathered her dark triangle first.
Jeena was tense with a sharp blade near her most sensitive area, but Geoffrey showed his skill. “I used to shave my father,” he explained, then hurriedly added, “Only on his face, of course!”
It must be a similar process because he quickly reduced the dimensions of her patch. Carefully, he rounded the upper corners then carved an indentation in the middle. The queen had to admit, it was heart-shaped.
Gently lifting and spreading her legs for the next part, he soaped the hairy sides and lower territories, the latter which he wisely had not mentioned. The warm water and his confident technique allowed her to relax despite the completely unexpected activity.
As his fingers stroked the newly bald areas, it sent shivers through her body. He finished rinsing and patting dry. She reached to feel it for herself when Geoffrey planted his mouth on her newly exposed flesh. His tongue mapped the area, as Jeena’s hands stroked his head.
“I was just checking that I didn’t miss a spot,” he laughed, hopping up to dispose of the shaving equipment. He found a small mirror and handed it to the queen.
With some curiosity, she looked and touched and saw herself in a way she hadn’t done in many years. The prince smiled, watching her in her own world until she noticed him standing over her and became self-conscious. Seeing him wearing only pants, she remembered what they were about to do when this interruption occurred.
“The reason I wanted to do that,” he explained, “was this!” With a flourish, he dropped his pants and his own hairless genitals came into view.
If Ricardo had been bronze, Geoffrey was iron, his skin black and glossy like a well-used pot. Wiry and graceful, he was an excellent dancer. His truly naked organ swung freely as he posed to her acclamation. As if pointing to the midmorning sun, his flagpole stood out, with a slight upward curve increasing the angle.
The distraction and attention between her legs could no longer hold back the burning that the tea had instigated. The queen rose up to her knees and grabbed the appendage, pulling it and the prince to her. Holding it at the base, she licked the smooth circumference. She marveled at the testicles, angling her head to get better access, licking and gently sucking them into her mouth in turn.
She did not want to release her new toy, but the prince reached under her arms to raise her to her feet. He led her to where a thick rug covered the floor, quickly shoving a table out of the way. He sat down and patted the rug next to him. As she started to lie down, he quickly spun on his butt so they were head to toe—or head to crotch, actually.
Leaning over her freshly barbered pudendum, he hooked her far leg and raised it over his shoulder, rotating her hips and opening her to his face. Jeena, half-dazed by the pace of developments, felt Geoffrey’s hot breath on her bare skin at the same instant his engorged licorice stick bobbed inches in front of her face.
She kissed and licked the purpling head, then drew it into her mouth. Sucking hard, her lips gently munched the shaft, taking it deeper, nibble by nibble. Her lips loved the hairless surface as her head bobbed on his shaft while her fingers swirled around his balls. Wanting to taste all of him, she switched to wrap her fingers around his dick while her tongue painted his nuts.
She felt the prince’s mouth working in earnest, spreading her folds to probe deeper. The warm slippery contact helped assuage the inflammation—was it the tea or the novelty or the wine or everything. Her excitement rose in a crescendo as he played her flesh. His hand on the inside of her thigh tried to hold her open, but her strong legs could not be resisted as her body soared to the peak.
Geoffrey felt his head trapped in that soft, sweaty vice as he reversed strategy and instead grabbed her ass and pulled her harder against his mouth. Her thighs enclosing his ears could not block out the staccato grunts of her orgasm.
He waited until he felt the tension leave her muscles, then gently liberated his head, taking the opportunity to sip the musky wine that her ecstasy had produced. Jeena regained her senses, feeling his hands stroking the warmth into her body from her knees to her breasts as his tongue lapped up most of her juices.
Although derelict in its duty, her hand still held that slick rod. She resumed her stroking and sucked the tip as if it were a straw, drawing out the accumulating fluid. With her flames temporarily banked, she could concentrate on his anatomy.
Not only was his penis and scrotum hairless, but so was the surrounding area. She stroked his bald perineum and circled his anus, an area not usually easy to see on a man. She giggled to see it pucker as her finger teased it, but she was not going to be distracted from her main task.
Fully engulfing a cock ordinarily involved the taste and texture of hair in your mouth and on your tongue, as well as tickling your nose when you got to the base. But Geoffrey offered a delightful alternative. Jeena pushed him onto his ass and leaned over his upright pole. She began her final assault, spreading saliva and tasting every bit of his cock and balls before slurping his organ into her mouth. It slid in so easily, she was surprised when her chin hit his belly. He was no Ricardo, but his cockhead was nonetheless nestled deep in her throat, the curved shaft an advantage given her position.
Tweaking his twin figs, Jeena applied her fingers to the foundation as she raised her head, her lips sealed tight to maintain suction. When she withdrew sufficiently, she paused long enough for her tongue to swirl the head before returning it to the back of her throat. She kept a steady pace, leaning her forearms on his belly when he tried to buck and make her move faster.
Her fingers on his gonads felt his desperate twitching, and she poked and pinched to abate his urgency. The prince felt himself pushed out over the precipice but then pulled back, again and again. Geoffrey had many more and varied experiences, but Jeena had a few tricks of her own.
“Please!” begged Geoffrey when he couldn’t take much more. Jeena didn’t want to risk a less-rewarding accident, so she changed her grip. One hand seized the base of his cock while the other stroked behind his balls in sync with her head, which bobbed faster and faster. The prince reached for her head but could offer no better guidance than what she was doing to him.
She felt the tension in his groin and thighs as he gasped for breath. He almost sat upright when the first wave hit him. Her suckling mouth nursed his male teat, her ascending lips drawing out a giant spurt, then descending to milk out another. No drop escaped her tight lips as he coated the inside of her mouth with his creamy, salty sauce. When he had no more to give, she kept going, demanding more, making him writhe and jerk and moan.
Finally, she relented, and with a long careful slurp, she siphoned the last off his cock into her now full mouth. Raising her head, she swallowed his load, her tongue scouring teeth and cheeks to savor every drop. Geoffrey flipped around to kiss the queen deeply, as they both tasted their mutual cocktail.
Through the closed door, the queen heard the beginnings of dinner preparations. Although her hungers were best satisfied in this room, she knew she needed to return to her quarters to maintain the secrecy of the encounter. Idly, she reached to stroke that sweet dick one last time and found it stiff again.
The prince must have known the power of that powder and expected a quick recovery but had not anticipated the shaving interlude.
“If the queen wishes, I think we have time for a digestif,” Geoffrey grinned.
Jeena glanced at the clock and agreed. “Whether it was the earlier tea or your personal libation,” she licked her lips and giggled, “I find myself fully prepared.”
Indeed, her pussy was as ready and eager as his cock was. Rolling on her back and raising and spreading her legs in a most unqueenly way, she welcomed the prince on top of her. His penis pushed into her vagina with a squish, and the two worked against each other with the required dispatch.
The queen’s long legs gave him leverage. He closed her legs, leaning his shoulders against her calves, tightening her cunt on his thrusting dick. This would be no dance, no ceremony. They were both close to what they craved, what their bodies demanded posthaste. They raced together, with no way to know who reached the peak first. Both continued, grunting, gasping, throbbing, grinding, not wanting the rush of pleasure to stop.
Finally, Geoffrey’s spent organ demanded at least a brief respite and flopped out of Jeena’s sodden opening. The queen sighed, half contentment, half recognition that they had reached the end. She saw that her most loyal attendant had silently left her robe on a chair. With a final kiss, she bid Geoffrey goodbye, but could not resist a last squeeze of his penis. Standing with her robe still open in the front, she surveyed his handiwork, feeling the smooth flesh slick with their exertions.
“All the fashion, you said,” Jeena teased. “No doubt, it will become so here as well.”
The queen fidgeted all through dinner. The effects of the tea lingered, distracting her from the official activities of the evening. Jeena did her best to maintain her composure as she toasted the visiting delegation, not wanting her situation to negatively impact relations.
Her flushed cheeks caused her foreign minister to whisper his concern, and she confessed to feeling feverish. When the clock chimed nine, Jeena decided she had stayed long enough to avoid offense. As she begged their forgiveness for her early departure, the visitors spoke understandingly at her obvious condition—without knowing its true cause, of course.
The royal physician, who was like an aunt to her and would not divulge her suspicions if she had any, prescribed fluids and rest. Alone in her bed, Jeena’s fingers immediately sought to satisfy the continuing demands of her flesh. Yet as midnight tolled, she remained unsated, despite her sheets being soaked from multiple self-induced releases. Her fingers, nipples, and pussy were inflamed from the repeated bouts.
Jeena resigned herself to confessing the truth to her doctor and trusted confidant, with the hope she might know a cure. But as she reached to ring for an attendant, her hand again found the scratcher. Perhaps it could provide some remedy. She closed her eyes as she touched the splayed end to her left breast.
The effect was immediate, like a damp cloth on a fevered brow. Drawing it across her chest, she felt the lightest touch that made her shiver. A patter of wet kisses followed the track of the fingers, the sore swollen peaks of her nipples relaxing to soft hillocks.
She dared to move it lower and felt the impossible hands, cool and gentle on her belly and thighs. The relief it brought to the surrounding territory made the source of her frenzy seem even more intense. The queen closed her eyes more tightly and gave control to the magical wand. Like a divining rod, it sought its objective. Unseen fingers fluffed her remaining pubic curls, then stroked the bare skin below.
Jeena stiffened as she felt something wet probe deeper. The now-familiar hands were joined by a tongue. It flitted about like a hummingbird, replacing raging demand with calm comfort. Warmth rose as the burning diminished. Gradually, like cool breezes swelling and subsiding on a hot summer day, the feelings finally satisfied her without overwhelming her or leaving her wanting more. Her mind and body became a cloud as she felt herself floating, floating to sleep.
The queen awoke, curled up on the couch rather than in her bed. She was naked, with a robe draped over her like a blanket, whether by her hand or someone else’s, she didn’t know. She rose and looked at the bed, a damp tangle of sheets and blankets.
Seeing the scratcher in its place on her nightstand and recalling its palliative power, she reconsidered her name for it. “Perhaps you are a succor stick!” she quipped.
“That would be quite the lollipop!” the maid’s voice startled her. She had arrived to tend to the queen, who had unintentionally spoken aloud.
The maid set to straightening the room and changing the linens. “What should I do with your sucker stick?” she looked askance at it. It seemed out of place on the nightstand.
“I like it there. It was a birthday present and I have grown fond of it.” The queen saw no need to elaborate.
Despite the trials of the night, she felt well-rested. The queen’s physician insisted on examining her, but she found nothing unusual.
“Perhaps it was something I ate,” Jeena chuckled.
The third prince was young. Never having initiated a novice, Jeena thought it could be fun teaching him and molding him to be the husband she wanted. What he lacked in skill could be made up in stamina and enthusiasm until the artistry was taught.
The queen had sequestered Prince Jason in a room off the library. He had used the days awaiting her to study some history in volumes not available in New Paleoland. They discussed some of his research over lunch.
“Much of our library was destroyed during the dark times. I didn’t realize that there was a crown prince before King Thurston died,” he said. “Unfortunately, Prince Thurgood disappeared on a hunting trip shortly before the king became ill.”
“You understand, then, why it is important for me to have an heir,” the queen said. “It is why you are here now. Your father believes we could be a good match. You are younger than I am and lack some experience, but you are intelligent and well-trained. How does the prospect strike you?”
“It would of course further cement the close ties your father established between New Paleoland and Fecundia.” Jason rattled on about the various cultural and economic benefits.
The queen rose from the table and, offering her hand, led Jason to the couch. “That is all well and good,” she said, “but what do you think of me?”
He droned on, “You have done well by your people and made Fecundia—”
“No,” Jeena interrupted. “I mean what do you think of me personally? As a wife, a companion, and mother of your children?”
He tried to reply, “Well my father says you are a fine person, so—” The queen raised her hand to interrupt him.
“What I mean is,” she leaned in close, her voice soft and enticing, “what do you think of me here?” Jeena’s hand pressed against his crotch but found nothing of interest.
“I don’t understand,” Jason cried with embarrassment.
“Well surely your training included how heirs are created,” the queen laughed.
“Of course,” he said indignantly. “Our livestock is prized far and wide.”
“But people are not livestock,” Jeena stroked his chest as she leaned up against him. “There must be an attraction, and there can be delightful rewards.”
“I must apologize for any misunderstanding, honored queen. My father has taken great pains to warn me against engaging in any such activities.” The prince seemed to be quoting the king, “A momentary pleasure could lead to a bastard with a claim to the throne that could lead us into ruin again.”
It dawned on the queen how sheltered a life Jason had led. “Noble prince,” she began, “it is I who should apologize to you, for assuming you were as other men. Let us start again. In the process, I may be able to add to your substantial education.”
She adopted the manner of a teacher. “I will speak plainly. There is no reason for judgment or embarrassment. You are a virgin.”
Jason nodded.
“So you are unfamiliar with the workings of the female body,” she continued. When he seemed ready to interject, she emphasized “the adult human female body.”
He silently indicated his agreement.
“How well acquainted are you with your own genitalia?” she asked. When he hesitated, she was more specific. “Have you given yourself pleasure, say, using your hands, until your seed spurted out?”
His sheepish grin showed he was familiar with the practice. “Let me see,” she instructed. “Undress yourself.” Following her command, he quickly disrobed. Jeena was surprised that his penis was still in repose. Welcoming him to sit next to her on the couch, she gestured for him to proceed.
She tried to suppress her shock at how quickly it was over. Jason pulled the head of his penis. With a dozen strokes, he had achieved a hard member of respectable dimensions. He grabbed the shaft and began to pump with a speed and intensity that seemed to Jeena must be painful, especially given the total lack of lubricant. Nonetheless, within seconds he ejaculated all over his chest and belly.
Without thinking, the queen leaned over and started to lap up the virgin semen, causing the prince to recoil.
“I’m sorry for startling you,” she smiled, licking her lips. “I find men’s essence delicious, and men don’t generally deny me the enjoyment. Yours has a fresh taste that I love. May I?”
The prince gave a surprised and confused nod.
For the brief time stroking, Jeena found a remarkable amount to lick. By the time she had slurped it all up, he was fully erect again. The advantages of youth, she smiled to herself.
“With your permission,” she said, “I would like to demonstrate a way that should be more enjoyable.”
Getting on her knees between his legs, she took his cock in her hands, and slowly licked from base to tip. She gave only the lightest flick to the most sensitive spot, seeing it ready to explode again.
“You will find that it is worth spending more time on the road to the peak, rather than rushing to it. In the meantime,” she did another slow lick, “let the warm feelings flow through your body.”
Her tongue soon had spread her saliva all over his dancing rod. “Lubrication will also improve the sensation. Now I’m going to put it in my mouth. I want you to resist climaxing as long as you can. I want to make you feel good for a while.”
Jeena gingerly placed his slippery cock between her lips. Her tongue teased the tip but did not linger. She had positioned her fingers around his balls, and when she felt him tense, she pressed and tugged them to distract him. In this way, she was able to make him last a few minutes. Unfortunately, there was no warning before she felt the twitch and the gush when he came in her mouth. Jason’s whimper suggested that it had surprised him as well.
“Wasn’t that nicer than when you did it?” she asked when he had finished squirting and she had swallowed his brew.
“Oh, yes!” he exclaimed, “that was….” Words failed him.
“That is how it is supposed to be, and more, and better,” she said, rising from the floor. “Of course, the ultimate place for your penis is here,” she pointed below her waist. “I think it is time to give you a tour.” She stood and removed all her clothes as Jason stared in wonder.
“As you see me, I have a patch of hair here. Some women shave it all off, as I have recently learned. By nature, I would have more hair than this. And,” she laughed realizing the misimpression she might be creating, “the heart shape was the result of careful barbering. With less hair below, you can see my vulva more plainly.” Jason’s eyes hadn’t moved from that spot since it became visible.
“As a woman becomes ready for sex, she produces lubricant to make the process more pleasurable.” The queen dampened her fingers and presented them to the prince. “You may find the smell and taste strange at first.” He sniffed and tentatively licked her fingers.
“I expect you will come to relish it. Do you remember your first taste of ale?” she posed a similar situation. Jason nodded, remembering the bitter flavor in that beverage that he had grown to appreciate. He sucked her fingers dry.
“Our time grows short today, yet there are things I would have you learn before you go.” Sitting and leaning back on the couch next to him, Jeena boldly spread her legs and opened herself up to him. “Deep in my folds is my vagina, the place your penis most longs to be.” She took his hand and pressed his fingers to the opening.
“You know your most sensitive area,” she said, lightly stroking his frenulum, making him squirm. “A woman has a similar spot,” she moved his fingers to where her inner lips converged, “here. It can be stroked and licked and sucked directly and, during intercourse, it may get jostled around enough to do some good.”
She guided his hand to lay his fingers along her slit. Moving up and down, they slid on either side of her clit. Slowly and steadily she moved them, her pussy slick with her juices. She knew it would not take much to push herself over the edge.
“Some days you will have to work to give your woman the satisfaction she deserves. Today will be easy.” She moved his hand faster and pushed forward with her hips. She released her pent-up tension with a groan. Bewildered by her movements and the gasping sound of her orgasm, he looked to see the smile on her face to know it was indeed pleasurable.
“You know, most men (and you, too, when you are older) are not able to recover as quickly as you do now. Women have the advantage there. But since you are hard again and I am ready for more, it is time for you to stop being a virgin! Lie on your back.”
Jeena stood up to let him arrange himself on the couch, his rocket pointing straight up and ready to launch. “Don’t move, let me do it.” She knelt astride him and lowered herself onto him. His eyes were wild as her hot wet channel engulfed him. She dared not move.
“Grab my breasts. Play with my nipples,” she instructed, hoping to divert him from an early explosion. Sitting fully on his dick, she moved her hips in gentle circles “Wait,” she urged, “it will be better the longer you wait.”
He seemed to understand. She reached down her front to rub her pussy. She needed to accelerate her excitement. She wanted him to feel her climax, which meant preventing him from going off before she did.
Looking down into his big eyes as he juggled her boobs, the queen felt that she was performing a sacred ceremony, participating in a rite of passage as old as humanity. It was a different kind of excitement but, as the tingling increased, she knew it would be enough.
“Do you feel my cunt grabbing your cock?” her voice was low as she strained her interior muscles.
“Yes, I do!” he said excitedly.
“Stay still,” Jeena gasped, her fingers firmly on her clit, driving her to the summit. “Feel me cumming! I’m cumming!” Her vagina clamped rhythmically on his cock. She gave him a few seconds to experience that before she leaned forward.
“Fuck me now, cum with me!” she moaned. The way she had him pinned down, all he could do was thrust up into her. That was just what she wanted, and it was all he needed as she felt him spasming as he groaned another eruption.
She could not afford to take much longer with the prince. She bent to kiss his sweet face.
“You can tell your father that I said you could return to use the library,” she said. “We can continue the instruction if you wish, but I cannot make promises. Perhaps I will marry you, perhaps not. It will depend in part on how well you do, but there will be other considerations as you know.”
With that, she left the dazed lad to his books and the memory of the afternoon.
The royal work of the rest of the day took her mind off Jason. When she finally made it to bed, the queen found the session had left her unsatisfied. As she went over it in her mind, inside her grew a hunger for one, decent orgasm for the day.
It was as if the succor stick had heard her thoughts and called to her. She closed her eyes as her hand, almost beyond her control, reached for it. Touching the fingers to her cheek, she felt hands and lips caress her face and neck. She moved it lower along her body, causing invisible fingers and tongue to massage and lick her breasts.
Focused on the warmth that spread and swelled her nipples, she was unaware of exactly where the other end of the wand was until it tickled her pubic hair. Startled at the sensation, she raised it and opened her eyes. The blunt end was smooth and rounded. The idea of using such an object for pleasure was not unknown to the queen, but it had been unnecessary for many years.
Frustrated that the mood had been broken, Jeena closed her eyes and tried to continue where she had been. She had not formulated a plan when she started, but the instrument had been so satisfying the previous times she used it. Now, the temptation of the other end gnawed at her, and she felt compelled to experience it.
Moving it lower, she pressed it against the split of her vulva, feeling it larger, warmer, and softer than it was in reality. Sliding it up and down sent pleasing shivers through her. Exploring the different sensations, she pressed it here, stroked it there, and even teased her opening with the tip. That last drew a gasp as it felt so much like a throbbing cockhead ready to push inside.
Reflexively, she pulled back from taking that step. Her mind rejected that illusion. She thought to turn the wand around and use the other end as she had before, but the rounded end was tending to her pussy so well, she could not bring herself to switch ends. Guided by her hand or whatever enchanted the device, she teased and pleased herself more and more.
The lower end approached her opening, again and again, each time it was harder to move it away. She circled her clit, but instead of driving her to a peak to relieve the need, it created a greater demand to be filled.
Lust or enchantment finally overcame reluctance, and she angled the wand to enter her vagina. She felt no modest hard stick, but rather a warm, meaty bulb push into her. As it drove deeper, the texture of a veiny shaft followed, parting her stretched tissue. Deeper and deeper it went, and in the back of her mind, Jeena worried that the magical rod might impale her.
It seemed to reach some limit—whether its or hers—and paused, filling her wonderfully. As she knew and desperately hoped it must, it reversed its course until she felt the smooth head on the verge of exiting. Her worry that it might depart was dispelled when it moved inward again.
So it went, each repetition feeling more real and complete. She dared not open her eyes as she raised her knees and felt warm skin brush the inside of her thighs. At the limit of its penetration, a warm body ground against hers. Rational thought had been driven from her brain by desire and fulfillment, alternating with each movement, each exceeding the previous until more seemed inconceivable.
The final illusion would have been a surprise if Jeena had retained any further ability to experience that emotion. Hot breath on her face quickly gave way to a mouth pressed hard against hers. Hungry lips mashed and seeking tongues danced as the pounding grew impossibly fast and hard. Her arms and legs thrashed as she orgasmed and the ecstasy coursed through her body, as real as any lover had ever inspired.
The thrusting became as erratic as her movements, then slowed, lingering at its deepest point, as her cunt continued its milking grip. As the afterglow settled on her, so did the weighty presence of a torso against her. Her arms and legs wrapped around it, and she struggled to keep her curious eyes shut, lest she destroy the magic.
Impending sleep kept her eyes closed.
The morning found her supremely refreshed physically, but profoundly troubled mentally.
As days of indecision stretched into weeks, the queen became more irritable. The choice for her husband had not been resolved by her time with the three princes. Each could be suitable, but none seemed obviously superior. Yet these were the three best options she had discovered from hundreds of suitors over the past few years.
She found herself turning to the succor stick regularly, although not to the degree of that night. The memory of the intensity and realism made her uneasy. The warmth and relaxation of its less intimate use were sufficient to allow her to drift off to sleep.
Efforts to locate her benefactor had been unsuccessful. No one in the city knew the old woman. She might have traveled from any distant hamlet to deliver her gift and return to tell her grandchildren how she had met the queen.
One night, though, even its power was insufficient to give her the respite she needed. In the morning, Jeena felt sick to her stomach and generally out of sorts. She summoned her royal physician. With warm, comforting hands the middle-aged woman examined her.
“Oh!” the sound of the doctor’s voice and the surprise on her face caused Jeena to be concerned. Seeming to retrace her steps, she poked and prodded the queen more brusquely than her usual manner, until she stopped with a sigh.
“My queen, I remember the day you were born, and I have cared for you ever since,” she seemed to want to put off revealing her diagnosis as long as possible. The queen’s facial expression demanded that she continue.
“You are pregnant,” she barely whispered.
The news struck like lightning, stunning Jeena for a few seconds before the implications hit her like a roar of thunder. She burst out cackling, frightening the middle-aged woman.
“Do not worry,” the queen smiled. “I have been trying to decide which prince to take for a husband, and it seems the decision has been made for me.”
“Who is it?” blurted the doctor, her curiosity overriding her usual decorum.
“I don’t know!” chortled the queen. “It could be any of the three. But,” she giggled, “they are different enough that my baby will make it clear.”
Indeed, the infant would certainly show traits of the bronze Ricardo, the ebon Geoffrey, or the pale Jason.
As the months proceeded, the circle of people aware of the queen’s condition slowly grew. Jeena continued her tutelage of Jason, so he first became aware of her condition. In the fall, she separately summoned her other two suitors and informed them of the situation. All three were happy to be finalists in the unorthodox lottery.
Through the winter, it was easier to keep the queen out of sight or, when visible, swathed in bulky clothes of the season. There were rumors, of course, but optimistic ones, since the arrival of an heir would be celebrated.
What women endure during pregnancy is not the stuff of fairy tales. As the queen fulfilled her duties, it seemed each week invented a new kind of discomfort. She put her soothing wand to good use regularly, from her tender breasts to her swollen feet.
Although her expanding belly eliminated her opportunities for encounters with potential partners, it did not erase the desire for the rewards of such encounters. Sometimes she felt it increased it. She found herself using the magic fingers to satisfy those urges as well.
Only a few times did she dare to apply the base of the wand to her needy flesh. When she did, the feelings were so realistic and intense that she would yank it away, afraid she would be overwhelmed again as she had been that night.
When spring melted the snow, Jeena decided it was time for her people to know the truth or at least some of it. A proclamation of the pending birth was made, and the promise to introduce the prince she had taken for her husband at the same time added to the excitement.
As the day approached, Jeena declared Jason ready for fatherhood and husbandhood, if that was his luck. Ricardo and Geoffrey arrived secretly and were appropriately ensconced.
Jeena was ready to greet her child and be rid of the many annoyances of pregnancy, but the days continued to count up. Without real expectation, she lamented to her physician, “If only there were a way to speed things along.”
“My queen,” her doctor slowly shook her head, “some say that the attentions of a husband can help bring the child forth. But who would you choose for such duty?”
Jeena knew she could not ask for such assistance. As willing as each had been to participate in this adventure, it would be cruel to anyone except the true father, who could not yet be known.
That night, the exhaustion of the day and the prospect of yet more days, drove the queen to consider the blunt end of the wand. Lying on her left side, it was awkward to reach past her swollen belly to where she wanted to apply it. Bending her right leg, she gingerly touched it to her vulva from behind.
Whether it was her cautious approach or the enchantment of the wand, it somehow sensed the dimensions of her need, moderating the intensity of the earlier session.
As before, the smooth hard rod became warm and soft. Moment by moment, the illusion became more real. Warm skin pressed against her buttocks and back. A strong arm moved sensitive fingers across her distended belly. Splayed wide, they seemed to seek the new life growing inside.
She felt her child stir within her and reflexively let go of the wand to reach for her abdomen. Her hand encountered not the smooth swell of her body, but the back of a strong hand. Spreading her fingers to touch between his, they shared communion with her baby.
Propped between her legs, the device continued to work its magic. Jeena surrendered to the experience of a complete man: the hairy strength of his legs against hers; the heat of his breath on her ears and neck; the roaming exploration of his fingers stimulating and soothing from her chest to her crotch; the meaty firmness of a cockhead teasing her opening.
There was no explicit thought of her doctor’s advice, as her brain was too busy processing feelings to do any analysis. She dared not think, lest reality banish the wonderful hallucination. Her body knew what it wanted, and she let it decide what to do.
Fingers, it didn’t matter whose, on her tender swollen nipples, spread warmth that satisfied yet increased her desire. A familiar, but too long absent, tingling grew between her legs. The elixir of excitement spread throughout her body, relieving all the accumulated discomforts, making her feel light and glowing with energy.
Only one element seemed missing from the feeling of perfection, and Jeena’s pussy knew what it was. Shifting her hips backward, she felt her flesh welcome it inside her. It made no sense not to call it a cock, for as a cock it felt and moved. She could not even wonder under whose control and to fulfill whose need it slid in and out. Her soft moans grew as it began to satisfy some of hers.
It drove her forward as on a switchback road up a steep mountain, occasionally giving hints of the view from the top, then turning back before winding around to be on a yet higher level. The queen continued with no urgency, the thrill and anticipation she had not experienced in so long were enough.
Jeena was content to linger near the summit, enjoying the feeling of excitement and the embrace of her unseen comforter. His gentle prodding eventually persuaded her to exert herself and sprint the remaining distance. As if emerging from the shade into bright sunshine, she let the warm ecstasy wash over her, laughing and dancing and twirling in it. Her partner responded in kind, his invisible pressure, rhythm, and grasp communicating a joint revelry. The mutual culmination traded intensity for duration; the feeling of delight lingered and merged into dreams.
As usual, after using the succor stick, the queen awoke in grand spirits with no memory of how it returned to its now permanent spot on her nightstand. Once the fog of sleep had dissipated, however, she noticed an annoyance between her legs. Apparently, she had peed the bed again, one more bedevilment that she would be happy to be rid of.
The attendant helping to tidy her up looked shocked, then shouted to her cohort, “Call the physician!”
The words were scarcely out of her mouth when Jeena felt the pain wrap her abdomen. Seeing the queen’s distress, the woman abandoned her task and moved to comfort the mother-to-be.
It took mere moments for the doctor to evaluate the situation as she rushed into the room. “It is time,” she announced, igniting a well-rehearsed flurry of activity that the queen, immersed in the first pangs of labor, hardly noticed. She found herself on a strange couch she had not seen before, yet it seemed to fit her exact needs. On and covered by fresh sheets, clean and dry for the moment, Jeena looked at the excited faces around her and felt excited herself.
Of course, babies do not pop out on a schedule, and there were hours of pain and exertion endured. The mothers in the room whispered their own stories out of earshot of the queen, but over nine months, she had already heard them. It was well past sunset when things proceeded.
When the baby was finally delivered, the sore and exhausted queen looked down and saw the pale infant. Jason, she thought, and other eyes in the room did the same calculation.
A wail emerged from the tiny bundle as the physician presented it to the new mother, smiling to reassure her that the crying was a good sign. Jeena, totally taken with her new child, hardly noticed the loud crash in the corner of the room, followed by shouts and cries.
“Guards! How did you get in here? Guards! Don’t move!” a cacophony of voices screamed. The women moved to protect the queen as the two guards entered. They had expected to spend the day watching the women come and go. Now they confronted a naked man in the queen’s bedroom.
“My queen!” the stranger’s voice rang out, silencing the room. Jeena did not want to take her eyes off her baby, but as the women parted to give her a view of the man, she felt compelled to.
Bowing as best he could with two guards almost lifting him off his feet with their vise-like holds on his arms, he pleaded, “You know me.” Jeena’s weary eyes looked at his face but saw nothing familiar.
He spoke, but it did not register. “The curse has been broken. It is a long story, but you have known me these last nine months.” Jeena’s eyes and ears were captured by the wailing newborn in her arms.
An officer had entered the room. At his gesture, the guards dragged the man toward the door.
“Please,” the man begged, knowing his fate if the queen would not intervene. “Let me prove it.”
“Bring him here,” the queen’s tired voice still commanded. She would dispense with this interruption so she could focus on her baby. The guards led him to the foot of the bed so she could see him clearly. Still, she knew him not.
Without calling attention to it, despite the guards’ grip on his upper arm, he managed to extend his lower arm to touch the queen’s foot with his fingers. He gently scratched the sole of her foot.
Startled by the sensation, she looked to where he touched her. The guards reacted, pulling him away.
“Wait,” Jeena tried to assemble the puzzle in her mind. “Let him continue.”
The guards inched him forward until he could resume his massage.
“The old woman gave me to you. The first night, I soothed the itch in your feet,” he paused, glancing at the room full of people.
The queen blushed, then smiled and nodded at the man, acknowledging his discretion not to go further with his story.
“I do know this man,” she announced, and the room gave a collective gasp. To the officer, she said, “He is my guest. Get him some clothes and attend to his needs. I will see him in the morning.”
The guards only slightly loosened their hold as they escorted the stranger away. With the intrusion resolved, the doctor resumed command of the room, and the women restored it to order so that mother and child could rest and bond and begin to feed. The broken nightstand was removed and, of course, the succor stick was nowhere to be found.
In the morning, as the infant slept, the queen met the stranger in her anteroom. She ate her breakfast as he told his story, filling in pieces she had not yet concluded on her own.
His name was Thurgood, crown prince of Paleoland. Jeena recalled Jason’s telling of the history. A witch had demanded that he give her a child and he refused. She enchanted him into the device, keeping him with her in her hut in a remote area until he fulfilled her demand.
Many years the witch used him in her attempts—he shuddered at the memory—but he resisted. One day, she went out but did not return. He was alone for unknown years as the hut fell to ruin around him.
A young girl found him—or found the odd stick—when she was exploring the decayed hovel. She never knew the potential of it, keeping it as a memento of her younger days when she could wander about and find such things. Only when she grew old did she discover its potential to soothe, and had used it sparingly.
It was her generosity that brought him to the queen. Both Jeena and Thurgood had strong memories of their interactions, so there was no reason to recount them.
“The curse,” he explained what he had figured out, “must have been broken by the birth of my child. The witch could not have known that someone else would be the mother.”
In the light of day, Jeena could see and feel the truth of it. Jason was not the father, although perhaps he would be a distant cousin to the baby. The mention of fatherhood reminded Jeena of the waiting princes. No doubt, rumors would have reached Ricardo and Geoffrey of their failure, as well as Jason of his presumed success. She summoned all three.
“You and Jason will have a lot to learn from each other,” she smiled as they awaited their arrival. “I suspect he will be happier to meet you than he would have been to marry me. You and I have much to decide and explain.”
The queen suddenly realized that she was taking a lot for granted. “In fact, I don’t even know if you—”
Queen Jeena’s voice was muffled by Prince Thurgood’s mouth on hers, as he gave her their first true kiss. No one dared interrupt the pair as each grew better acquainted with the other’s face. Even the three princes stood quietly when they arrived, exchanging puzzled glances.
Only the sound of the new heir’s waking cry roused them to their parental duties.