Phoebe sat in a velvet tufted chair. Her lady’s maid stood behind her, brushing her hair with a soft bristled brush. One hundred passes of the brush over Phoebe’s long light brown hair. The maid’s hands were washed in a fragranced oil that she applied, almost, to each individual strand. Working the moisture into Phoebe’s hair with each stroke of the brush so that it would be shiny and smell like fresh flowers.
Phoebe stared at the mirror and smiled prettily at her reflection. It was true, what the people in the town said. She was the fairest woman in the kingdom. She may even be the most beautiful woman to ever go through the Ruling. It had made her particular ordeal so much more complicated than the usual Trials the suitor’s must go through. Even her renowned great ancestor, the lady Penelope, had only had 50 prospective suitors. At the time, it was considered an astonishing number of countries to send their princes, finest warriors, and greatest minds to participate in the Ruling. But now it seemed paltry compared to Phoebe’s 100 suitors.
100 men had traveled to from all over the globe to seek her appraisal in the Ruling. Most years, women in her kingdom might see five. Her own grandmother had only received three men during her ordeal, but she had been born hideously disfigured. With 100 suitors, there had been multiple rounds of elimination, Endeavors before the prescribed Trials could even begin. Each hopeful bachelor that was eliminated before the actual Ruling, was sent home in disgrace. To submit to the Ruling was a risk not lightly undertaken.
Any man not selected to stand in the final three would be ruined. He would return home only to be outcast. Rejected from polite society. Her mother’s fourth had been a Russian nobleman, the first-born prince to the Czar and in line to inherit the throne. Even though he made it all the way to fourth place, when my mother eliminated him before the Ruling, he was so ashamed he threw himself from his carriage and down the side of the mountain, rather than to return home.
It was a heavy burden to see so many men’s reputations completely wasted, but Phoebe didn’t mind. In fact, she had decided to be much more heavily involved in the eliminations than previous generations. She liked to see the men vie for her attention. She worked with a cabinet of her father’s closest advisors to pick challenges that would be fun for her to watch but would still serve the purpose of the most satisfying Ruling outcome.
The first Endeavor was easy, she cut anyone who was not attractive to her and sent them home. But Phoebe had an eclectic taste, and still had over seventy men after her first appearance-based cull. For the second Endeavor she, asked all the men to present her with a gift. Phoebe liked gifts and thought it would be great fun to receive so many.
There were so many glorious gifts and packages she had received on that night. She had sat on her thrown, her hair curled into ringlets, and clapped with joy as each new box and bauble was carried to her by a hopeful suitor. She enjoyed watching them, their hopeful eyes pleading for her to accept their gift; the moment when she might give her nod of approval. She was delighted when they won her favor, but also found pleasure in rejecting the gifts with a pout of disappointment and a dismissing motion of her hand.
Lars had brought her a beautiful chocolate egg filled with the loveliest marzipan flowers. That she had approved of. Her dear cousin Augustus had given her a fluffy kitten with fur as pure white as the driven snow. She loved her new pet. But, the dark and sweaty Phineas had brought her a large telescope and told her to look inside to see the constellation named for her. Boring. Her guards escorted Phineas, and the telescope outside and threw them into the pig stye. That wasn’t necessary, but Phoebe enjoyed the theatrics.
Several suiters had given her gifts of their bodies. That was not uncommon, for the lady to have her suitors before the Ruling. And Phoebe was very curious to know her suitors better. When Alfonzo had approached her, his body painted in gold dust and nothing else, she had dismissed the entire court to spend some time alone, inspecting her prize.
In the end, fifty gifts were accepted and twenty were not. In the next elimination, Phoebe wanted to make sure the men were prepared to serve her. She gave her entire castle staff the day off and left her suitors in charge of running the house. Georgie was eliminated for bringing her breakfast late. And Caesar was cut lose when he ironed a hole into one of her frocks. But Alastair impressed her, he braided her hair in two long plaits, and he whispered in her ear that he had been trained at the House of Lads to serve her. That was a particular pedigree that she knew would bring her great happiness. Ferdinand likewise had gone to finishing school at the House of Lads, and during his servitude Endeavor, he brought her many savory morsels to snack upon on lovely little tea trays and fed her from his hands.
Only thirty-five suitors completed their act of servitude and went on to a cock size Endeavor. Phoebe knew from her book, The Lady’s Principles, that cock size was a rather antiquated Endeavor. That most any cock would do. This challenge was really only to eliminate any that were much too small or misshapen or otherwise displeased her. She already had seen some of them naked, but it was easier to decide when there were other cock comparisons standing nearby.
Her suitors had stood in a line, thirty-five men with their backs straight and their pants around their ankles. They were instructed to pleasure themselves for one minute and then one of the servants would soak their cocks in a minty analgesic that would keep them hard and upright for Phoebe to complete her inspection. Phoebe loved this Endeavor almost as much as the gift giving, and much better than the servitude. Her suitors were so self-conscious. So vulnerable. Their cocks sticking right up, their eyes darting around to see how they matched up to those next to them. Poor Archie had tears welling in his eyes as he looked at Mathias and Gregor to either side of him, their monster cocks raging with proud erection, while his own cock only puffed up a little bit. A small salute to the lady Phoebe.
But Phoebe knew Gregor’s cock would only punish her special garden and she directed her guards to lead him away. Anyone ejected in this Endeavor would leave the kingdom naked, and painfully erect. Unable to receive the antidote to the numbing tincture and cursed with a perpetual hard on. Sean’s cock was very impressive. Pretty freckles dotting his helmet. She signaled her lady maid to spray the antidote in her mouth, and she sucked Sean’s prick until his erection could come down.
Now twenty-five men remained, and for the next Endeavor, Phoebe had vetoed her cabinets request to complete the Endeavor of Diplomacy, a boring game of negotiation and bartering, similar to Risk, and instead to engage in an exhibition of Oral Proficiency. Each of her suitors would line up and be given one minute to use only their mouth to make her cum. She would spread this challenge out over the entire day. Whenever she could hold back no longer, and gave way to her orgasm, that man would be rewarded with an invitation to move forward in the Endeavors, but only 15 men would be chosen.
The cheeky and cunning Daniel was up first, and Phoebe spread her legs wide to accommodate his mouth. But knowing he was first, and could not make her cum in a minute, he decided not to touch her pussy at all. Why give the next men in line the benefit of his hard work? He might get her so close, she could cum, just from the second minute. He sat with his hands on her thighs, and at the end of the minute, Phoebe looked down, disappointed. She signaled her guard to remove Daniel from the Endeavor. He was eliminated.
Broland had seen what had happened to Daniel, and so approached Phoebe’s cunt with vigor. He licked and lapped aggressively. After just thirty seconds, Phoebe signaled her guard to remove Broland, and he too was prematurely eliminated. The rest of the men played to the best of their ability, and then there were only fifteen suitors remaining. Connor had used his time the most wisely of all. Seeing her cunt puffy and sore from the many orgasms she had undertaken. He used his lips to massage her pussy and rest her clit. Only dabbing it with tiny little whispered licks now and then. He wasn’t allowed to use his fingers, so he buried his face in her cunt, pushing his nose as deep into her hole as he could. Then in his last twenty seconds, he licked in strong methodic circles and made her cum in just sixty seconds. Even after all her other orgasms.
With such a small group of men remaining, she allowed her cabinet to play Diplomacy, with a slight deviation, that all deals struck in the game would be agreed upon, not with a handshake, but with a peep suck. And Phoebe watched from her thrown while the men bargained and propositioned to suck one another’s cocks over any compromise they could come to. She noticed a soft, thin boy, called Jesse, that did not speak for himself, but would broker deals between two parties and then suck both their cocks in compromise. Willing to suck cock was an attractive quality in a suitor. But vying to suck cock was not. She eliminated Jesse from the Endeavor. Theodore and Jahlil had asked the moderator if they might make a special agreement, that they may appease the Lady Phoebe. They wanted to each give one half of their land to the kingdom, even if they were not selected in the Ruling. It was agreed, and the two men lay down upon each other in 69 until each was drinking the other’s salty gism.
Now there were ten men remaining. A much more typical number of suitors. Lars, Augustus, Alfonzo, Alastair, Ferdinand, Archie, Conner, Theodore, Jahlil, and the Lord Vega were the last men left and she could finally begin the Trials.
In the first Trial, the men were once again lined up, their bodies disrobed, and their arms bound around a great may pole. ten of the ladies maids were called upon, and were tasked with wanking the men with vagina shaped dildos. No other woman’s hand should ever touch a suitor. And no suitor should ever cum from any females ministrations, except the pleasure of the lady Phoebe. Any man who came from the dick yoking would be eliminated.
Of course, Alastair and Ferdinand had been well trained to never receive any pleasure from any source but the lady they serve. But poor cousin Augustus had never felt anything as exciting as the fleshy silicone lips of the toy on his shaft. He spurted great white ropes of cum into the toy and was dismissed.
In the next trial, each of them men were required to show how quickly they could cum. Perhaps there would be a breeding emergency, the suitor was slain, and an heir must be sired. How quickly could they fulfill their duty to the lady, even under the direst circumstances. The men were held under water and wanked themselves, only allowed to surface for air once they had cum. No one would actually die in this trial. The men would be quickly revived if they asphyxiated, to be sent home in their shame. Lord Vega Came with two quick strokes of his hand. His helmet bursting with cum before his entire head had even been submerged. Likewise, Alastair and Ferdinand were quick to cream out great white bursts of semen. But the stress undid Archie. Him and Theodore bother floundered under the pressure and were revived only to be eliminated. Just as the oxygen was pumped into Archie’s lungs, a great white stream of cum shot out of his still erect twitching cock. His hands were at his sides and Phoebe whispered to her guard. He may stay.
In the third Trial, each man was required to make milk for Phoebe’s tea. They were given different instruments to insert in their ass holes and stimulate their prostate, but they were not allowed to touch their own cocks. Alfonzo sat down on a strand of beads and pushed them in and out of his ass hole, each bead graduated to a larger and larger side. But nothing was happening. He slid them in and out more vigorously. But still he could not quite hit his prostrate. Alastair and Ferdinand smartly chose the ice toy, a small, curved finger they could work against their prostate back and forth until the milk began to leak out of their quivering cocks. Archie watched the two men and imitated what they did until his own cock began to leak the milk straight into the teacup. Jahlil tried every toy he could find, but his ass hole was so tight, he couldn’t get anything to fit inside him. He wailed on the ground in defeat as a guard drug him away. Conner was toying his prostate expertly, but in a moment of blind pleasure, he grabbed his own shaft and began to pump. Thick hot semen spilled into his teacup, and he was eliminated.
Phoebe leaned back in her chair and appraised the work of the lady maid and once again considered her reflection. The maid approached with a small box covered in gold embossing depicting the family crest. She opened the case and pulled out a beautifully appointed tiara. Platinum lines bejeweled in pink sapphires. The lady maid gave a slight curtsey before setting the box down on the dressing table and lifting the tiara to place on Phoebe’s head.
Tilting her head this way and that, Phoebe let the light catch in the crystals and splay across her hair. She thought about the final Trial. Last night each of her suitors had been sent to her lady’s private bath house, one at a time, and instructed to sit on the floor and wait. Once she had arrived, she instructed them to open their mouth wide, and prepare to drink her body water. Lord Vega was first. He cupped his mouth around her pussy and placed one hand on her stomach as if to coax her pee out into his mouth. He then drank from her greedily, sucking her cunt to get more and more of her golden piss. Lord Vega would move on to the Ruling.
Next was Archie, compared to Lord Vega, he seemed so young. Meek and unassuming. Phoebe did not want him to fail but would not help him with the trial. Phoebe had been prepared for this night of Trials and was over hydrated. But when she sat squat over Archie’s face, she could not relax enough to let her stream out. While she waited, Archie lifted his head and began to lick at her pussy lips.
“My lady, there are still beads of piss on your cunt and I can taste the first signs of your wetness. Please don’t deny me a drink”. With that, Phoebe untensed and let a long stream pour into Archie’s waiting mouth. Archie would be moving on to the Ruling.
Alastair was the next suitor to enter. He momentarily braced himself in the doorway before entering. He brought with him a throning chair, which he sat over his face as he lay down. “Please sit, my lady. I want to drink your body water”. Phoebe was pleased he had brought a throning chair and asked him where he had gotten it, his answer was lost as he gulped at her piss flowing freely down his throat. When she was finished, she asked again.
“The sisters at The House of Lads made it for me. For us, for this night, my lady”
“But you never used it with them?” Phoebe asked, wanting to be certain he had never experienced body water before hers.
“No never with them”.
Something in his answer gave her pause. “If not them, then who?”
Alastair smiled. “I had some trouble conceiving of being able to drink from your body. A mental block. So, I would practice with goat pee until I could drink it unblinkingly.”
Phoebe spat at him in disgust and called her guard in to have him expelled from the Trial. “No one has more shame in elimination than you, Alastair Moriarty, you have dishonored me and your country. When the Ruling is complete, I will replace your father as head of state. You are done here!”
Phoebe called in Ferdinand next, certain he had also participated in this preparation. In her questioning, Ferdinand fell to his knees and pleaded for her trust. “This is not part of training at the House of Lads. Alastair must have invented this on his own. I would never consider taking body water outside of my lady’s. I would take the waste of anything my lady’s body could make. It would be a pleasure to me. Please, try me harder than the others.”
And with that, Phoebe stuck her fingers deep into her throat until her gag reflex responded, her vomit and bile spilling into Ferdinand’s mouth. He swallowed eagerly and licked the streaks of vomit off her face and chin. “Thank you, my lady.” Phoebe was decided, Ferdinand would be included in the trial. She summoned a guard to let Lars know he was eliminated.
Phoebe stood and allowed her lady’s maid to dress her in an emerald, green robe. It made her green eyes seem even brighter. She put on her gold slippers and was escorted to court by an entourage of guards and lady’s maids. She entered the room and a hush fell over the crowd. She took her seat on her thrown, an empty thrown was placed next to her in anticipation of the Trial victor. Her cabinet of advisors were sat to one side and her three remaining suitors to the other. She had thought all night about what her decision was to be in the Ruling.
She looked at the flag draped over the doorway; it too bore the family crest. A plate of armor in three sections, each with the silhouette of a man on it. One crowned, one holding his cock, and one beheaded. Each representing the fate of the three men before her. Every generation, the first-born daughter must complete the Ruling. The decision of who will be married and further unite the kingdoms. Who will be a lover, the simple sex slave of her lady’s chamber. And who will die. The one who was worthy in all ways, but not selected.
The death Ruling was easy. Lord Vega was only fit to pleasure himself. He was suited to any Endeavor and all of the Trials, but not suited to the Lady Phoebe. Keeping him around was a safety. Someone who could be relied on to make it through to the end, but she would not mind killing herself. She called him to her, and once he kneeled, she slit his throat.
Ferdinand and Archie sat motionless. Awaiting their fate. Phoebe called Archie to her next. Sweet young Archie. Willing. Curious. Without ego. He would be her lover. Her slave. Her pleasure giver. She would be able to use him whenever she liked. She gave him a small cage and locked it around his flaccid cock. He would sleep on a cot in her room, always on hand to pleasure her, but rarely allowed to cum himself, His only purpose to serve her. Many nights he would lay in his cot watching her fuck her husband, a cuckhold. He would wake every morning to take her first piss and lick her ass hole clean after shitting. He would spend hours and hours with his head buried in her pussy, taking his time drawing out her orgasms. For many, this was an impossible task, but Archie smiled as the lock snapped closed on his little flaccid cock. He would dedicate his life to serving Phoebe.
Finally, she called Ferdinand to her. Her chosen one. Her husband. Ferdinand was the best looking, polished and trained for diplomacy. He would lead her people and run the affairs of the state while she lay in bed with Archie. He was also trained in the arts of pleasure and had an ample cock to satiate her constant need. He was the grandest of them all. She withdrew another box from her robe and opened it to reveal a matching crown which she placed on his head. She leaned in and whispered into his ear.
“Ferdinand, you are the chosen one, the Ruling is final. Now you will consummate my decision by filling me with your seed.”
Obligingly, Ferdinand once again undressed himself, his cock already hard and wet with pre cum. The selection had aroused him. In front of the court, the cabinet, and Archie, and the fallen Lord Vega, Ferdinand gave Lady Phoebe his virginity. He had trained himself in edging and had restraint, despite his inexperience with a woman. Archie whimpered, hoping to be included in the consummation as the selected lover, but Phoebe ignored him entirely. Ferdinand stroked Phoebe with long deep thrusts. With his orgasm, the Ruling was sealed. Phoebe was the new Queen, and he, her King. With that thought, he pumped his seed deep into her. The hall filled with a thunder of applause as the people rejoiced over the outcome of the Ruling.