A Queen's Court

FOREWORD:

This is not something I do often, so forgive my brutish and heavy-handed style. Someone told me I should write - and so I did. If this story gains enough traction, then I might be persuaded to write a sequel.

Anyway, enjoy:

*

The hooded man dashed through the snow. His heavy boots leave heavy footprints in the forest as he hurries forward. The sound of hooves and the cries of men resonate around the trees, and fear beats its rhythmic drum against his chest. He reaches a clearing, and stops to catch his breath. The cloaked man doubles over, exhausted. He raises his hands and speaks a few words in an ancient, dead language. The sorcerer tries desperately to weave his spell, but his fingers are frozen and his hands sore. He thinks back to the castle, and the great fire in the centre, a flame to warm the whole world. There is a cluttering behind him, and he turns suddenly. He raises his staff, and clutches it in his cold, frozen hands.

"Stay back!" He roars. It is hardly a roar; his voice is hoarse and spent. The cold wind blows his hood away. He shouts again,

"Don't make me hurt you!"

A lone horseman stands, his lance pointed at the ground. Soft snowflakes fall on his shining silver armour. He doesn't respond to this wizard's threat. His power is spent; he cannot weave any of his foul spells. He raises his spear, the metal tip glinting in the twilight of that wooded clearing. The heroic knight starts to charge, images of victory filling his mind. He would return to the castle, all would adore and love him. He would return to the queen, and with the king dead he would take his place at her side. He roars out as he charges, slamming his lance against his shield.

---

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The doorkeeper was confused. The hour was late, and the castle was not expecting any visitors. He opened the grand wooden door, and a hunched hooded figure stood on the porch. He held a wooden staff. The doorkeeper let the man inside, and said gruffly,

"The village is a few miles down the road. This is not a hostel."

The man replied slowly, "They sent me here. Let me warm my hands and I will be on my way."

The guard grunted, and let the man through. The hooded figure stepped through the door of the castle, and crossed the threshold. In the centre, a great fire roared. Embers danced to a song as old as time on the incandescent logs. Lancers of light charged the darkness, driving it to the corners of the great hall. A man sat on a throne at the end of the room, a crown perched atop his head. He was fat, and he sat alone. There was no queen beside him. He spoke in a deep, rumbling voice,

"Who are you, and what businesses have you in my castle?"

"I am a simple traveller, driven here by the cruelties of the night." The hooded man replied.

The king leant forward with a smile and said, "A traveller! How wonderful! Sit and eat with us, I would be honoured to hear of your adventures." He turned to a steward, "Fetch the Queen, I'm sure she would enjoy this man's tale."

"And where might the queen be?" the steward replied timidly.

---

"Yes! Serve your Queen, knight!"

A slim, red-haired woman lay back on the bed, moaning softly. Her naked body was illuminated by the flickering light of a candle on the bedside. Her hair flowed gently down her face, falling on her naked, heaving chest. Her legs were spread, and her hands gripped the hair of the man between them. She cried out as his tongue lapped hungrily at her royal womanhood. As she cried out, her orgasm nearly upon her and as the man tasked to defend her husband's possessions buried his tongue inside her, she heard a knock on the door.

She sighed, and kicked the knight aside. She rose slowly, and dressed herself as the man scurried away to hide from the impending retribution.

"Come in," she said. Her voice was like silk.

The steward peeked in through the door and informed her that the King had requested her presence. She sighed again, and headed to the hall.

All eyes turned as she entered. She saw first the King, and was disgusted. The man smelt like a pig, but had the pride of a lion. She had refused his advances after their first child, and so he now spent his time fucking the chambermaids. Of course, she was still his wife, and she had to make sure she stayed that. She would do as he asked, sometimes. The queen turned her head slowly, and saw the King's trusted bodyguard standing to attention. She liked him, and she liked the way he quivered when she walked past. Lastly, she noticed the stranger, the hooded man with that long wooden staff. At first she thought nothing of him, and sat next to the King.

"Why did you summon me, darling?" she whispered.

"A traveller is here, and a wizard by the look of him." He replied. He could smell her sex rising from her legs. She was wet for him already -- he would certainly enjoy taking her this evening.

"What business brings you here, wizard?" She asked, loudly, ignoring the way her husband was staring at her breasts.

The man looked startled, "I am no wizard. I am merely a traveller."

"Do you think me a fool, hooded man? We are not as backwards as you might think. I recognize the seal on your clasp. Come, take a seat and shed those travelling clothes. We have food and wine."

"Some of the finest!" interrupted her husband. The queen smiled sweetly, seething with rage at the man's idiocy. The man smiled and thanked her, and took a seat. He took of his cloak, and his hood. He was a young man, with a slight beard that he had developed on the road. His face was weathered, but handsome. He was attractive, and powerful, and this stirred something deep in the queen's loins. She let her husband slip his hand between her legs, imagining what it might be like to be the bride of a magician -- it must be far greater than the wife of a lowly king.

The stranger ate quickly, shovelling the food down his throat. The members of the court looked on horrified as he gulped down the wine. He finished his meal quickly, and stood up,

"Thank you, your highnesses. I will be on my way now." He announced.

The king was about to ask the stranger to share some of his tales, when his wife spoke.

"No you can't! It is cold outside, and we would be terrible hosts if we let you out into the cold. Stay here for the night," she said in that wonderfully soft voice of hers. Her words warmed his heart more than the fire he stood beside. She smiled at him, a slight smile on her face. She continued:

"Come. Let me show you to your room."

The queen rose slowly. Her silk robes trailed behind her as she swayed towards him. The eyes of all the men were fixed firmly on her ass as she walked slowly towards the stranger. She took him by the hand and led him away. The king was so enticed by his wife, her supple body covered in those expensive clothes that she had him order especially, that he dismissed the court as she left. He then summoned his favourite maid to the throne. His bodyguard closed the door, as the young woman knelt before the throne.

The tall magician followed the queen up the winding stairs of the castle. She didn't speak to him, and he was used to keeping his mouth shut. They ascended in silence, and she showed him into his room. He nodded his thanks and stepped inside, prepared to sleep little and rise early. He was most surprised to turn around and see her still standing there.

"Is there anything further, your highness?" he asked her politely.

"Yes. What kind of wizard are you? Why are you travelling so far? Where are you travelling to?"

He was shocked by the number of questions; they came so quick and fast. As he paused and thought about the best answer, she strode over the bed and sat down. He noticed then, that the door was closed. The wizard turned to the queen and said slowly,

"I am travelling to the coast; there is news of a disturbance there. I cannot tell you what caused this news, I do not know. As for what kind of wizard I am, I am tasked with keeping the time."

She was confused by this, but didn't press further. Truthfully, she cared little for what magic he performed. The men and women who bore the Sorcerers Crest were renowned and feared throughout the land. She placed the lamp she had been carrying on the bed, and stood up to face him. She stepped closer to him, and spoke in a gentler tone.

"Is it true you wizards have to remain celibate?"

She could see he was startled, and as he started to reply, stuttering and floundering, she slid to her knees in front of him. She took his hand in hers, and placed it on her head gently. She smiled up at him, and then slowly undid his trousers. When he finally spoke, her hand was already caressing his cock, and she could feel it growing firm in her warm little hands.

"We cannot do this. You are married, and to a king at that" He said, but there was no confidence behind his voice.

"You think I love him? You think he cares for me? He sits at his throne while that slut of a maid hungrily sucks his smelly little cock. You on the other hand, are a far finer specimen." She giggled as she spoke, her voice sweet and sultry. She wrapped her pink lips around the head of his cock, as she cradled his balls gently. The queen smiled inwardly as the wizard groaned, and gripped hold of her hair. She was getting out of this disgusting castle, and away from that foul king. This wizard was the way out.

Something stirred deep inside that man of power, something that had been buried under layers of patience and silence. He had been with a woman before - before he had taken his vows - but she was nothing compared to the vixen that knelt before him. He gripped the back of her head with both hands, and started to thrust his cock into her throat. She opened up to him as his thick meat speared into the back of her mouth again, and again. She gagged slightly as he vigorously pumped into her, and he groaned out heavily.

"Fuck. Take my cock, you filthy queen." He grunted.

She was happy to oblige, and looked up at him sweetly, nothing but care in her eyes as he brutally fucked her face. She felt him spasm, and then felt his cum hit the back of her throat. She slurped up each and every last drop -- she'd had plenty of practice. One does not become queen without knowing how to manipulate men. She pulled his cock from her mouth slowly, and licked her lips.

"Mm. That was delicious." She whispered, "Now fuck this little slut!"

As she stood up, running her hands up his body, he grabbed her, and pressed her against the wall. She moaned in happy surprise, as she was lifted up and pushed up against the cold stone wall.

"Take me! Take me, wizard. Fuck this whore-queen." She shouted in his ear as he slammed his cock, coated in her saliva, deep inside her tight, wet pussy. She cried out in pleasure, throwing her hair back to shout to the heavens. She could feel the power coursing through her as the wizard slammed into her, harder and harder. She barely heard his groans over her own pleasure, and his voice snapped her back into reality,

"You're mine, queen. I'm going to break you in like the little whore you are." He whispered, "First I'm going to fuck you. Then, I'm going to spank you. You will call me lord, slut."

She cried out happily in response, "Yes, yes! Fuck your whore, my lord!"

He roared out as he came, his thick, sticky cum filling her up entirely. His seed trickled gently down her leg as he pulled out of her slowly. Exhausted, he moved to the bed, and fell down on his back,

"Thank you." He said.

She smiled at him, a glint in her eye,

"Did you think you were done, my lord?" she said as she softly walked towards him. Her hips swayed once more, and she looked more beautiful than ever. Her hair fell across her shoulders, and her breasts heaved, her pink nipples standing erect. Her naked pussy, perfectly trimmed, glistened with the mixture of his cum and her juices. Her voice, soft as satin, resonated around the room, and his cock grew hard once more. She crawled onto the bed, and lowered her lips to his crotch. She kissed his balls slowly, and licked the last of his seed from his shaft.

"Come here, you little whore. Bend over my lap."

Sir Rynwolf was incensed with rage as he heard this. He had been listening at the door for some time now, and the anger had been building inside him. The queen was his! It had been less than two hours since she had called him to her chambers. He was going to be her lover when that fat old king passed away. She had promised him that, and he had believed her. What a fool he was to believe her. He was no fool, he was a knight. He had slain a dozen men, and he would not be bested by a woman -- by a conniving whore. She would pay. He hurried down to the main hall, with her moans chasing him out the hallway.

He burst into the great hall, seething with rage

"My king!" he roared, "I have someth-"

He stopped when he saw the king. He had the blonde maid, the one that worked in the kitchen, bent over the table where they had eaten earlier. The king was slamming his cock into her ass while she screamed out, tears streaming down her face. He had one hand wrapped around her blonde hair, the other steadying himself against the table as he brutally fucked the maid from behind. He was naked, except the golden crown that sat upon his head. The maid looked to Sir Rynwolf pleadingly, as her ass was viciously taken by the man she served. The king turned angrily to the intruder and roared,

"This better be good, you idiot."

"My king." He started nervously, "I did not wish to disturb you, but I have troubling news. Your wife is cheating on you; she is sleeping with the wizard."

When the king heard this revelation, his rage was unbridled. He threw the maid aside, and she gathered her clothes and hurried off. The king muttered angrily, and pulled on his clothes. He turned to the knight, "Give me your sword." He demanded.

Rynwolf kept his hand on the hilt of his blade, and answered cautiously, "My king. There is no need for violence."

The king faced the knight, his face seething with rage. He spoke slowly, enunciating each word with vehemence, "You will give me that sword, and I will go and kill that sorcerer, and then I will kill that bitch of a queen."

The brave knight took a step back, and the king advanced on him slowly.

"I am your king. You will obey me, or you will be out of this castle with nothing but your measly honour and a dirty washcloth!"

Rynwolf paled at the thought. He couldn't go back to that life. He slowly handed the king his blade, and the two of them rushed off to the room where the queen was grinding her hips into the sorcerer's cock.

---

Sir Rynwolf sat atop his horse, bearing down on the sorcerer that had taken his queen from him. He was almost upon him, and he leant forward, eager to spear the wizard. When his horse was almost on top of the cloaked wizard, he thrusted his spear forward. Instead of flesh, however, the tip of his spear found only empty space. The wizard was gone, but his cloak remained. Rynwolf got off his horse, and looked through the clothes. The clasp was still there. A plot hatched in his mind. He would still return victorious, with this golden clasp as the proof of the sorcerer's demise.

He mounted his horse once more, and steered it towards the castle. With a mighty shout, he charged off back towards the castle -- back towards the queen.

As he rode away, the wizard let out a sigh of relief. He hadn't thought that would work. He could only teleport a short distance, his power was almost spent after slaying the king. He scrambled for his seal, but he knew he wouldn't find it. While its purpose was primarily to symbolize power, it was made of a rare metal that resisted most magical manipulation. He sighed. His task was complete, but he had lost the queen. He wanted her under him again; he wanted her to beg him for more. He wanted to own her.

---

The king burst through the door, to see his queen writhing on the bed. She had straddled the sorcerer, and was completely naked. Her moans filled the room as she was bobbed up and down on his cock. She didn't seem to notice the intruders, and neither did the man below her, furiously thrusting his hips up under her soaked cunt. His first cry of despair was unheard, lost in the pleasure of her being taken by the wizard, his hands grasped tightly on her hips. She ground rhythmically into his lap, her hands pressed to his chest, yelling out,

"Take me! Fill me up, cum inside your little whore!"

When she finally noticed the king, she barely seemed to break her stride. She whipped her head round, her flaming red hair plastered tightly to her smooth neck. The wizard was not so nonchalant, and hurriedly pulled her up and got up, crying out,

"I can explain!"

The king charged forward, sword in hand ready to run this sorcerer though, as the queen desperately cried,

"It wasn't me darling! He bewitched me. He made me do these things!"

But the king didn't listen, he couldn't. He swung his sword at the wizard, but missed. He swung again, and his sword flew over the wizard's head, as the sorcerer dropped to the floor. The metal embedded itself in the wooden bedpost. Rynwolf stood in the corner, shocked to a standstill. As the king tried to grab his sword, the wizard touched his staff to the king's heart. The room stood still. Sir Rynwolf stood, his hand outstretched to his king. The queen sat upright on the bed, wiping cum from her lips and pulling on her ripped clothes. In one second, the king stood a tall, proud, monarch. As time started to flow once more, the crown slipped from his head. The crown fell through the air, the jewels glinting in the light. In the reflection of the golden circlet, the queen was adjusting her hair, and the knight was running towards the king. The crown hit the cold stone floor with a metallic clatter. Beside it, there were the robes of a king, and what previously had filled them was reduced to dust.

Sir Rynwolf cried out in horror. His king was dead; the man who had brought him in from the cold had been reduced to nothing. He turned to the queen, and saw tears streaking down her face. She looked at him in sadness, and then at the wizard in anger. Before either of them could speak another word, the wizard gathered up his clothes and rushed out the room.

The knight turned to his queen, and cradled her face in his hands. His rough fingers wiped away the tears from her smooth face. He kissed her forehead gently,

"It's going to be okay, my queen." He whispered.

She spoke slowly, her voice choked with tears, "It will be okay, when you run that sorcerer through!"

As the brave knight left the room, and went to mount his horse, the queen went to the dresser, and sat in front of her mirror.

---

Rynwolf returned to the castle, clutching the wizard's robes in his hands. He stepped through the castle gates, and walked purposefully towards the throne. The queen was sitting there, in new clothes, a royal purple. He stood in front of her and loudly announced,

"The sorcerer is dead."

He threw the golden clasp to the ground. The queen rose slowly, and addressed the court,

"Men and women of the court, this day has been a sad one. My husband is dead, and we must mourn for him. But we must remember that his kingdom will live on. I see no harm in making this brave knight -- the knight who avenged the king, my beloved -- the man who will lead us."

Her speech was greeted with rapturous applause, and then she walked towards the knight. She led him away from that hall, to her private chambers. He followed her eagerly. He was the king now, in all but name. She would serve him whenever she wants, or he'd tell everyone about how she fucked the wizard who killed the king. He stood in her chambers, smiling as she stripped him of his armour. He imagined ruling over all the denizens of the kingdom, riding through the villages as they cheered for him. He imagined riding into war at the head of a great army. Most of all he imagined the queen, naked before him, while he sat on the throne. He kept on dreaming these fantastical thoughts, right until the moment that the dagger penetrated his heart. He looked at the queen in horror as he fell down the floor, trying to grab hold of her with cold, dying hands. She shook him off, and then wiped the blood off of her hands. She took a moment to compose herself, and then ran towards the hall screaming,