Gwennalyn's Sexual Awakening Ch. 25

Thank you once again to the lovely Emma Kendrick for her thoughts on the chapter!

Lucien ate ravenously, quite hungry after another night of debauchery. His asshole was sore, after all the thick cocks he had taken, and before the necessary application of elder salve. The chair was already cushioned, but as usual, the handmaiden had taken a pillow from the couch and placed it on the seat.

I'm not even married to the princess yet, and her handmaiden is taking care of me.

At the thought of their approaching matrimony, he glanced across the table.

A dark look was settled on the princess' face. She ate slowly and miserably.

I haven't been here that long and I don't really want to leave. I can't imagine how she must feel.

"Eat up," the handmaiden urged her, bustling about behind them. "We need to get you into a bath soon."

The princess only grumbled in response.

"Wouldn't want you reeking of sweat and cum when your parents get here."

"Not like they'd be able to smell it," came actual words this time.

"Well, I can smell you from across the room," the handmaiden shot back.

Another wordless grumble followed.

Lucien finished his plate and nodded gratefully when the handmaiden collected it.

"Come on," the handmaiden urged her again. "Eat a little bit more."

The princess fixed that dark look squarely on the handmaiden.

"I'm not hungry," she spat out.

Lucien glanced at the handmaiden, who stared back at the princess, bemused and resigned.

"What's wrong?" she asked, adopting a slight teasing tone to her voice. "Dreading your parents' arrival?"

"You know I am."

"You'd rather be taking cock?"

"You know I would."

A sly smile spread on the handmaiden's face.

"Rather be bent over this table with an orc rutting you?"

The dark look gave way to desire.

"Yes," the princess murmured, a flush rising on her cheeks.

The handmaiden slipped over next to her, and took her by the chin, tilting her head up.

"I'll make you a deal."

Interest swirled with the desire.

"If you eat your food, and stop whinging, I'll bring a few guards in to fuck you before your bath. Maybe I'll even let them stay while I'm bathing you. How does that sound?"

The dark look disappeared completely. The princess nodded.

"Will you be a good girl then?"

The princess nodded again, and quickly speared a chunk of potato with her fork.

"See that?" the handmaiden said to Lucien as she began to bustle about again. "Something to remember when you're married. Promise cock and she'll melt."

The princess blushed mid-chew but did not argue.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Gwennalyn glanced ahead, to her parents, who were walking beside King Victorin. Her father was deep in conversation with his orcish counterpart, while her mother, arm-in-arm with her father, glanced around, taking in the various buildings surrounding them.

Neither of her sisters had made the trip. Avalyn was back in Crownhold, taking care of her son, recently fallen slightly ill, while Dawn was abed, due to deliver any day now, not even able to make the first part of the trip from her home in Northseat to Crownhold.

Gwennalyn glanced back to where Brand and Brash trudged along at the back of the group, slowing her pace. The various members of the party accompanying her father passed her by, letting her eventually match the brothers' stride.

"Welcome back to Coronhar, good sirs," she greeted them. "I'm sure you're both quite happy to be home."

"Anything beats the stench of Crownhold," Brand said with a curled lip.

"And all that ceaseless chatter," Brash added.

"Ah yes, I know the ceaseless chatter very well," she replied sagely.

Brand narrowed his eyes.

"Of course you do," Brash grunted.

"You brought the ceaseless chatter here."

"It's hard to chatter when I'm choking on cock."

The brothers growled dismissively.

She let a smirk appear.

"Will the good sirs be helping me avoid ceaseless chatter? I can make room for princes in my schedule."

More dismissive growls followed.

A slight excitement bubbled up inside her. Although her last encounter with the princes had ended with them spurning her, she was still eager to tease them, to see if they might respond with the sort of treatment that always made her cunt gush.

The party made their way up to the castle, her mother occasionally complaining very passive-aggressively about the lack of a carriage, her father and King Victorin ignoring those complaints to focus on their conversation. The princess spent the rest of the trek in one-sided conversation, receiving more dismissive growls as answers.

"Shall we settle in?" her father asked her mother once the party reached the main courtyard.

"Oh yes," her mother replied. "I'm afraid I must rest my feet for a little spell."

"Will you be joining us for supper?" King Victorin asked them.

"We'd be delighted," her father said, smiling gratefully, her mother adding her own smile.

"Do you have any afternoon plans?" her mother asked her next. "It has been so long since we had tea together."

"I'm all yours for the afternoon," she said brightly.

"Wonderful! Allow me some time to settle in, and then we'll catch up."

"I shall be there with bells on."

The party dispersed, and as Gwennalyn glanced around, she noticed that Brand and Brash had slunk away. She shrugged, setting off towards the guards' lounge.

I can fit in a few of them before it's time for tea.

The brothers were waiting down the next corridor she took. She fought back a smirk, steadily approaching them.

"I suppose all that conversation on the way here was to tease and annoy us?" Brash asked. "To see what we might do?"

"Just ceaseless chatter," she said smoothly, stopping in front of them. "I know you secretly miss it."

Brand lunged at her, his hand closing around her neck, shoving her against the wall. Her back smacked against the stone. A quick pain sparked up, a surge of neediness accompanying it.

"Pathetic whore," he spat, his formidable physique looming over her.

She moaned, her thighs rubbing together shamelessly.

"Do you want us to abuse you?" Brash asked, stepping up next to her, another formidable physique hemming her in. "To put our hands on your meager body?"

She managed to nod, her eyes fluttering from the way those fingers fit just right around her neck.

Sadly, Brand removed his fingers, and stepped back.

Brash slapped her, the strike burning her cheek, drawing out another moan.

Those fingers returned to her neck, digging into her skin. She squirmed against the wall, hands splayed over the cool stone.

"This is just sad," Brand snarled. "I thought you didn't need us anymore, what with all the whoring for the guards."

"I...want...more...please..." she croaked, struggling to force the words out.

"Go to the stables then. Or the docks. You have plenty of options besides bothering us."

"Wait, brother," Brash spoke up. "Perhaps they can't make her feel quite like we can."

The fingers let up, and she sucked down a much-needed breath.

"True. And we did give her that first taste of orc cock. That's not easy for a slut like her to forget."

She blushed, her cunt clutching at the commentary, her arousal surging.

Brash laughed darkly.

"The bitch is getting wet."

"I'm surprised she's not just eternally wet around us," Brand mused.

"So then, what is it, princess?" Brash continued. "Why us? Why not just slip away to the guards?"

She frowned.

"I am slipping away to the guards. You two are in my way."

Brand smirked.

"And yet you began teasing us on the way to the castle. Hoping you'd get a rise out of us."

"I was merely teasing," she said lamely, her blush still raging across her cheeks.

"Or perhaps you find yourself drawn to us."

"I pity you if that's the case," Brash said, laughing darkly.

Her frown returned.

"Do you think we have some special bond?" Brand continued, adopting a tone of incredulity. "Because we let out that raging whore inside you? Or maybe because we're the children of royalty?"

"Of course not," she managed to reply. "All I care about is you're not afraid to be rough with me."

"That applies to most orcs in the city, but yet you're standing here, hoping we'll tear that dress off and rut you against the wall."

"So then why don't you?" she asked acidly. "Unless you've adopted the ceaseless chatter yourselves."

"Because you're boring."

"And predictable," Brash added.

"And you have the body of a foal."

"Anything else?" she asked tersely.

"No," Brand said simply.

She narrowed her eyes.

Why did I even bother with them?

"What will you even do when you're back home?" Brash asked next. "You only have a few days left here."

She growled in annoyance.

Don't fucking remind me.

"You won't be able to take cock left and right," Brand added. "I guess your holes will finally tighten back up."

"Are you ready for nights spent only with your fingers?"

"Don't forget the handmaiden, brother."

She moved to slip past them, but their bulky frames blocked the way. She clenched her fists, digging her nails into her palm, funneling her anger there.

They want a reaction. Don't give them the satisfaction.

"And I suppose you two will go back on the road to find women to rape?" she asked, making sure to keep her voice even.

"Father will make us stay for a little while," Brand replied. "But eventually, we'll get out of here."

"Perhaps we'll leave the continent altogether."

"Find a ship to sail on."

"Have some adventures."

She scoffed.

"And all the while you'll be wasting away in Crownhold," Brand said, smirking.

"I wonder if your father will invite ours to the wedding. I'm sure it'll be a boring affair."

She glared at them.

"More ceaseless chatter. Kindly get out of my way so I can go to the lounge."

"One last question for you, princess," Brash told her, "and you can leave."

Her nails dug further into her palms. She tried to dart around them but was denied.

"Fine."

"The next time we see each other, will you still be drawn to us?"

"Clinging to the idea that we're somehow bonded?"

She gritted her teeth.

"I don't know. I can't see the future."

The brothers exchanged an amused glance.

"Will you get out of my way now?" she asked in exasperation.

The brothers stepped aside, and she darted past them, heading hurriedly down the corridor.

"Have fun!" Brash called to her.

Assholes! I should've just ignored them.

She made her way to the lounge, her anger raging.

Several guards were seated on the couches. A cheer went up when she stepped over the threshold. She could not help but smile. The guards stood, crowding around her. Hands landed on her figure, squeezing, caressing, helping her strip out of her dress. Her cunt clutched, the annoyance dissipating.

It's nice to be appreciated.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

King Victorin stood, and the buzz of conversation died down, all eyes switching to watch him.

"A toast to my fellow king," he began, raising his glass. "We were once allies, but upon the passing of my wife, I let myself and our great nation recede into isolation."

Gwennalyn glanced over to her father, who nodded solemnly.

"It took time, and strength, to be able to resume communication with the Free Lands. And to the great credit of King Freirick, his hand was extended, as if it had never been withdrawn, offering the same friendship as ever."

Her father nodded again.

"We have re-established the connection between our great nations. The future of this alliance is bright. Whosoever trifles with the Free Lands, trifles with Valenzis."

"And whosoever trifles with Valenzis," her father spoke up, "trifles with the Free Lands."

King Victorin nodded.

"We toast also to his daughter, the Princess Gwennalyn. She has been a most courteous guest and a most willing student of Valenzian culture. I can only hope my sons were as much a treat and treasure for King Freirick as she was for us. We shall miss her, and we hope she visits in the future."

The princess blushed, smiling gratefully.

"To our great nations! To Valenzis and the Free Lands!"

"To our great nations!" came a resounding chorus.

"To Valenzis and the Free Lands!" her father followed.

King Victorin sat back down. The feast resumed, the buzz of conversation following suit.

As the evening wore on, the princess found herself less and less enthused, the specter of a return home looming in the morning.

I don't want to leave.

Soon, the hall began to empty. Her parents took their leave, as did King Victorin. She finally dragged herself from the table, feet heavy like rocks on her way out.

"Princess!" came a voice from behind her.

She turned to see Sir Hathwell and his wife approaching.

Oh great.

"Are you off to bed?" Selenis asked, the couple matching her strides.

"Yes, we have an early morning tomorrow."

"We are off to bed as well," Sir Hathwell spoke up. "We must be there to see you off, of course."

"Of course. My father would expect no less from his ambassador."

"We just wanted to say before you left," Selenis began, "that we will miss you greatly here. You brought a most necessary grace to Coronhar."

"The city will not be as bright without you," Sir Hathwell added.

Am I a piece of bread to be buttered up so?

"As King Victorin said," Selenis continued, "we hope you visit in the future."

"Oh, I will make sure to. And I hope we will see you soon in the Crownhold courts."

The couple nodded, and parted ways from her, Selenis offering a curtsy, Sir Hathwell a deep bow. The princess glanced around the mostly empty courtyard, and spotted Deiara slinking over from a nearby bench.

"I thought they'd spend more time kissing your ass," she murmured.

"I'm grateful they didn't."

The handmaiden smirked.

"I don't want to leave, Deiara."

The smirk faded.

"I know, love," she said softly, reaching out to squeeze her arm.

"And I don't want to get married."

The handmaiden gave her a slight smile of understanding.

"I don't know what to do."

"Well," Deiara began, "you don't have to think about all that tonight."

Gwennalyn nodded.

"I know. It's just hard not to."

"Come with me," the handmaiden said, nodding for her to follow.

"Where to?" she asked, falling into step. "I was planning to go to the guards' lounge."

"One last night of whoring?"

"Yes. For old times' sake."

The handmaiden laughed.

"And where did you go off to, by the way? I saw you slip away."

"I had something to take care of."

Gwennalyn raised an eyebrow.

"What something?"

"You'll see. Just keep following me."

The duo made their way from the courtyard.

"I thought you might've snuck off for a quick fuck with Baltar," the princess spoke up.

"Oh, I did that before I took care of the something."

"What did you two do? Exactly, I mean."

She bit her lip, already imagining the answer.

"That's none of your business," Deiara replied casually.

"Please, Deiara?"

The handmaiden smirked.

"Well, since you asked so nicely...we snuck into a nearby closet and he bent me over a table. Rucked my dress up and went right for my cunt."

"Did he take you hard?" Gwennalyn asked, voice adopting a dreamy tone.

"He ate me out first, but then yes, he gave it to me good."

"Did he cum inside you?"

The princess glanced at her handmaiden, picturing streams of semen burbling from her slit.

"He put me on my knees so I could suck him. Finished right on my tongue. I can still taste him."

"Mmm, I love when they make me suck them..."

"You love whatever they do to you."

The princess blushed.

"It's all so much fun..."

The handmaiden laughed, leading them through a side corridor into another courtyard.

"My offer still stands, by the way," Gwennalyn spoke up. "I don't see why King Victorin wouldn't send Baltar to Crownhold if I asked him. I'm sure he's aware how close the two of you are. And all I'd have to tell Father is that he's been a wonderful attendant."

"That's very sweet, but it's alright."

"Are you sure? I know you're going to miss him."

"Of course I'm going to miss him. But he shouldn't uproot his life here just for me. And we'll see each other again. It's not like Crownhold and Coronhar are all that far apart."

"And it's not like I'll never come back here."

"That too."

The princess glanced around.

"This is the way to the guards' wing."

"That it is," Deiara replied simply.

The princess felt a surge of excitement, fully aware that her handmaiden had something in store for her.

I doubt she's arranged an archery lesson.

The duo came into another courtyard, this one at the start of the guards' wing of the castle. Instead of heading up towards the lounge, however, Deiara took them leftwards around the courtyard, towards the training pit.

Instead of the sounds of combat came silence. Gwennalyn peeked over to her handmaiden, who only smiled mysteriously back.

The duo headed through the entrance, their slippers meeting the dirt floor.

The small crowd waiting for them erupted with boisterous cheers.

"Welcome to your farewell party," the handmaiden told her, the smile now bearing warmth and amusement.

"Farewell party?" the princess asked in surprise.

"We couldn't just let you leave without celebrating your time here," Akarra spoke up.

"Not when you've been such a good guest," Narth added with a grin.

The handmaiden gestured for her to follow. The princess did so absentmindedly, looking around through the crowd, seeing guards, dockworkers, stable hands, and other orcs of assorted backgrounds.

"It'll be sad to see you go," Fulg said from nearby, the princess slowing to lay an affectionate caress along his broad chest.

"I'll pray for you often," Kishari told her next, nodding serenely.

The training pit had been transformed into a place for celebration, with tables and chairs laid out, bottles of various liquor abounding, bouquets placed here and there to add color. The handmaiden steered her through the crowd, around the tables, to the far corner of the pit.

Another table waited there, kept apart from the others. Nagasa stood next to it, a small wooden box under his arm.

"Welcome to the party," he greeted her, smirking.

"Such a lovely surprise," she told him. "I didn't expect this."

"You have been a great guest, and we take care to fete great guests."

He placed the box atop the table, giving her a better look at it. Her family crest was inlaid atop it, a majestic eagle with its wings spread and talons deadly sharp. A hole was cut in the bottom.

"What's that for?"

The handmaiden smiled.

"This?" Nagasa asked coyly. "We use these in the dungeons sometimes."

"This one was made specially for you," Deiara added.

"I commissioned it from a friend of mine."

"What does it do?" the princess asked, coming closer to examine the box.

Nagasa opened it, the halves parting to reveal a cushioned inside.

"You put your head in and then we close it. You won't be able to see or hear or smell anything. Usually, we use it for torture. When combined with pain or discomfort, it can be quite effective."

"But," the handmaiden cut in, "one person's torture is another's treat."

The princess bit her lip, understanding the implications.

"So, I'm to put my head in it?" she asked Deiara.

"Well, first, you're to take your clothes off."

Gwennalyn obeyed, leaving herself naked before the ogling crowd.

"When did the princess come to act so slavishly around you?" Nagasa asked Deiara.