Gwennalyn's Sexual Awakening Ch. 28

A big thank you once again to Emma Kendrick for providing her thoughts on the chapter!

The creak of wheels followed behind the trio on their way into the orphanage. The first barrow was laden with fruits and vegetables, the second with fish and meat, the third with chickens, the fourth with wooden swords and toy horses for the boys, the fifth with small sewing kits and whalebone hairbrushes for the girls, and the sixth with assorted clothing.

"Welcome, Queen Sabrina," the orphanage mother said, curtsying. "And Princess Gwennalyn and Ambassador Athar. Our most sincere and heartfelt gratitude for your presence and your gifts today. Please, come in! The children are all gathered and very excited."

"Lovely!" Queen Sabrina replied brightly, curtsying back. "Let's not keep them waiting."

Gwennalyn followed her mother into the main yard, Athar behind her, three Royal Guardsmen behind him. Children were gathered in ragged rows, varying in age and size. She quickly spotted three orc children, splashes of green amidst the otherwise generally similar colors.

"Children, this is Queen Sabrina, the Mother of the Free Lands. The eldest of you might remember her from her last visit."

The boys bowed and the girls curtsied, some clumsy and unsure, others more graceful.

"Now, time for what we practiced!"

The orphanage mother stepped up closer to the children, and raised her arms.

The children began to sing.

'Long May the Eagle Fly' had been the official song of the Royal Family since well before the princess had been born.

Never quite heard it like this before though.

Some of the children had obviously not paid attention during the practices, but offset their shaky grasp on the lyrics with boisterous voices, often overshadowing the children who did actually know the lyrics. Several sang very enthusiastically, but off-key, ultimately drowning out the good voices.

Gwennalyn glanced over at her mother, who beamed at the children. The orphanage mother looked slightly distressed, but her own glance at the queen helped her relax.

The children soldiered on through the song and ended gradually, some finishing the final note before the rest, leaving a dozen or so voices for a few seconds.

"Wonderful!" the queen said, clapping her hands together. "I have heard many renditions, but that was one of my favorites."

Gwennalyn clapped along, smiling at her mother's exuberance.

The children bowed and curtsied again, this time with a bit more confidence.

"Children," the orphanage mother continued, "the Queen and the Princess have brought us some gifts!"

The barrows trundled into the main yard. The children murmured among themselves, obviously curious, the more restless stepping forward for a better look.

The orphanage matrons took charge of the barrows with the chickens and food and clothes, but the remaining two stopped in front of the children. The Queen reached into the closest and took out a wooden sword, smooth and dull, the grip made of brown leather. The children murmured again. She padded towards them, her simple red dress swishing above the packed dirt.

"What's your name?" she asked one of the boys at the front of the gathering.

He blinked in surprise.

"Culver."

She handed over the sword.

Culver stared at the blade, swishing it back and forth, a wondrous expression on his face.

"You boys will all soon be men," the Queen continued. "Men of the Free Lands."

She glanced back pointedly towards the Royal Guardsmen.

"Men of the Free Lands are expected to fight and protect. In the name of the Free Lands, in the name of the gods, in the name of the family you may someday make. In my name, in my husband's name, in our children's names."

The boys all stared back with the same wondrous expression.

"Remember that swords are not the only way to fight and protect," her mother said wisely, walking back towards the barrows.

She reached into the second one, and took out a small sewing kit. The contents rattled slightly. She padded back towards the children and opened the box to pluck out a sewing needle.

"What's your name?" she asked one of the girls at the front of the gathering.

"Bethette," the girl said shyly.

The queen handed over the kit.

"And you girls will all soon be women. Women of the Free Lands. Mothers and wives."

Bethette peeked inside the kit, eyes bright with interest.

"Women of the Free Lands are expected to keep the house together. To nurture a family. Sewing might not seem all that important, but trust me, it will be one of the most important skills you learn. And it is just one example of how to keep a house together and nurture a family."

She slipped back towards the barrows, beckoning Gwennalyn to join her.

"Come, children," the orphanage mother spoke up, waving them forward. "Two lines, one for the boys, one for the girls."

The children lined up, the orphanage mother helping them stay organized. The queen watched, smiling idly, and began to scoop up the items from the girls' barrow. Gwennalyn followed her lead with the boys' barrow.

Each boy received a wooden sword and a toy horse, and each girl received a sewing kit and a whalebone hairbrush. The queen made sure to ask each child's name and chat with them, adding a graceful personal touch to the brief interactions. Gwennalyn did her best to follow that lead.

After several minutes, the carts were empty, and the children were chattering happily. The queen strode through the midst, stopping here and there to compliment a boy's sword or describe the contents of the sewing kit to a curious girl.

Gwennalyn followed her lead again, albeit not physically, winding her own path through the gathering, smiling and nodding.

Ahead, three boys were whispering among themselves, gaping at Sir Raymus, the Royal Guardsman standing by the courtyard wall, arms folded across his chest.

"You ask him," one of the boys told another.

That boy hesitated, but then stepped cautiously towards Sir Raymus.

"Excuse me, Sir Knight?"

Sir Raymus glanced down, arching his brow.

"Is...is that real?" the boy asked, pointing to the sheathed sword hanging off the guardsman's hip, the hilt burnished and gleaming.

Sir Raymus nodded.

"Can we see it?"

The guardsman hesitated.

"Please?" one of the other two boys asked hopefully.

"Come now, Sir Raymus," the princess spoke up. "Surely it can't hurt to give them a look."

The knight nodded, and pulled his sword out. The blade caught a ray of sunlight, steel flashing dangerously. The boys stared in wonder.

Gwennalyn slunk past them, fighting back a laugh at the looks on their faces.

A few paces ahead, a small figure brushed past her, ducking around her skirt.

"Oh!" she said in surprise, looking down at the skinny girl crouching stealthily.

Two more girls ran up. The skinny one ducked around Gwennalyn again, pressing against her hip.

One of the girls peeked around her other side.

"Where'd she go off to?" the princess asked, turning away, pushing the skinny one behind her back.

"She's behind you!" the second girl crowed triumphantly.

"I think I would know if she was behind me," the princess teased, turning away again.

The skinny one dashed off. The two girls chased after her, giggling loudly.

Gwennalyn continued on, winding her way around groups of children. Her mother was now combing a lanky girl's hair and chatting with her, the girl flanked by a gaggle of other girls waiting their turn.

Ahead, Athar crouched before the orc children, talking solemnly to them, serious expressions on their faces. None were markedly bigger than other similarly-aged children around them, and their skin tones were slightly different. Closer now, she noticed their facial features, more human-like than Athar's.

Half-breeds.

She slowed to give the ambassador space with them, despite her curiosity.

After another minute of discussion, the children speaking up once or twice, he stood, and nodded. The children dashed off, peeling away from each other after a few yards.

The ambassador smirked at her.

"Do they make you think of having your own?"

She blushed.

"Perhaps..."

"You could always adopt them into the royal family."

She glanced over at her mother.

Imagine the scandal that would result.

"Ah, that's right. You'd rather have one squirted straight into your belly."

She blushed again, the description delightful.

...imagine the scandal that would result.

"I heard tell of the crown prince's going-away party. Supposedly you begged, not just to be bred, but to be turned into a broodmare. To be pumped full of countless half-breeds."

Her blush deepened at the humiliating memory.

"He tricked me..."

"Trickery or not, didn't take long for you to give in."

A gaggle of children ran past, blissfully unaware of her mounting arousal.

"I think I'll visit your handmaiden later," Athar mused. "It's been a little while."

With that, he strode off, easily parting the gathered children with his massive frame.

The princess looked around, still blushing hotly, her thighs rubbing together under her dress. Her mother, now combing a different girl's hair, was also blissfully unaware of her mounting arousal.

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

"Children are easy," Queen Sabrina said simply. "At least when they're young. They want attention and love. All you have to do is freely give them that."

The queen and princess were strolling towards the royal apartments, the three royal guardsman flanking them. A light patter of rain left the ground slick, both women picking their way around small puddles.

"You'll make a great mother," the queen continued. "Of that I have no doubt."

I don't want to be a mother anytime soon.

"I could always adopt those three half-breeds," she joked.

Her mother laughed.

"If you want to give your father a heart attack. Think of the rumors that would spread."

"What rumors would there be?" Gwennalyn asked, slightly incredulous.

"People would say they're secretly yours."

If only...

"People say all kinds of things."

"Of course. So, we must do our best to limit the possibilities."

"Or we could just live our lives and let people talk."

Her mother arched an eyebrow.

"Your time with the orcs really left some of their sensibilities in you."

You have no idea.

She shrugged.

"I'm not actually going to run off and adopt those half-breeds, Mother. It's simply a drudgery to always think of potential rumors."

"I'm more aware than you think. I gained a teensy bit of weight after my marriage to your father and the kingdom was immediately abuzz about my pregnancy."

The door to the royal apartments awaited. Another Royal Guardsman stood to the side, waiting patiently.

"Princess," Sir Daymond spoke up. "Your father wishes to see you."

"Very well then, thank you Sir Daymond."

"Shall I see you at dinner?" her mother asked.

"Yes, see you then, Mother."

Gwennalyn fell into step behind Sir Daymond.

I wonder what Father wants.

The past month had been lazy and relaxing, with the weight of impending marriage off her shoulders. Even despite the inability to rampantly take cock like in Coronhar, there had been very few worries on her mind. Her obscene itches were scratched by Deiara, through sex, or spying on the handmaiden's romps with men from a concealed position, or watching her more openly with the ambassador or the orcs in his retinue, all of whom had sworn to King Victorin that they would not fuck the princess.

Doesn't mean they can't fuck Deiara with me watching.

Soon enough, she was outside her father's office.

Sir Daymond knocked.

"Enter."

The guardsman opened the door and ushered her inside.

Her father stood expectantly behind his desk. Another man stood across the desk from him, tall, tanned, and much younger.

"Thank you, Sir Daymond."

The guardsman closed the door.

"Gwennalyn," her father said, gesturing to the other man. "This is Captain Edwin Chance. Captain, this is my daughter, the Princess Gwennalyn."

"Pleasure to meet you," she greeted him, answering his bow with a curtsy.

"Have a seat," her father directed her.

The captain waited for her and her father to sit before joining them.

"The captain here recently returned from the same expedition Lucien was on."

"Oh, the anti-piracy expedition?"

The captain nodded.

"He was made captain there. In the middle of a battle, I believe?"

The captain shook his head respectfully.

"I merely rallied the other shipmen after our captain fell. It was after the battle that Captain Lancear made me the official captain."

"You are a credit to the Free Lands," Gwennalyn told him, putting on a grateful tone.

"Thank you, Princess."

"And I'm sure you're glad to be back in civilization," her father said wryly.

"Yes, it is quite the relief," the captain replied, smiling slightly.

"Now then," her father continued, glancing at her. "I'm sure you're wondering why I had you brought here."

"Yes, Father."

He leaned back in his chair.

"These last weeks seem to have been relaxing for you, daughter. But, you're old enough now that you have certain obligations as a member of the royal family."

She looked over to the captain, who sat silently.

He's not going to marry me off to the captain, is he?

"I think it is time you learn more about the Free Lands. About the vassal states and cities that comprise it. You certainly had a hunger for learning from King Victorin in Coronhar. I'm sure we'll find the same closer to home."

So...I'm not getting married off to the captain then?

"So, you're going to go on a trip through the vassal states and stop at each capital. You'll meet with the governors and other important figures to learn about the states and cities. We'll of course notify the cities so they can prepare for your arrival."

Huh...that doesn't sound so bad.

"It'll also be good for the states and cities to get to know one of their princesses. I'm sure plenty of people will come out to welcome you."

She nodded.

"A new yacht was just finished at the shipyards. That'll be your ship. Captain Chance will be the captain. He has earned himself a less dangerous endeavor."

The captain smiled.

"It's an honor to be chosen."

"He will pick the crew, and I will send some guardsmen along with you."

She nodded again.

"Any thoughts on this, daughter?"

She thought for a few seconds.

"When do we leave?"

Her father smiled.

"In a week. There are still some things that must be handled."

"I'm looking forward to the trip," she told him, smiling over at the captain. "It'll be good to learn more about our home."

"Wonderful!" her father replied. "I'll let you know before you go what the itinerary will be and who will be arranging accommodations for you at each stop."

"Thank you, Father."

"Well, that's all then," he said decidedly, pushing back his chair and standing.

The captain bowed, first to him and then to her, and strode towards the door.

"Please tell Sir Daymond to come in," her father told her.

"My father says for you to come in," she passed on to the guardsman once through the door.

He nodded gratefully and stepped inside, closing the door after him.

"So," she began, falling into step next to the captain. "Chance is not a family name I've heard of before."

He smiled slightly.

"We are not an old or powerful family, Princess. My grandfather was ennobled by your grandfather."

"Oh? How did that come about?"

"They sailed together. The story goes that your grandfather hid his princehood, so no one would know who he was. My grandfather took him under his wing, helped him get settled. And then saved his life several times. After your grandfather's service ended, he ennobled my grandfather as thanks."

"And so your grandfather chose the name Chance?"

"He felt it was fitting. He took a chance looking after the hidden prince without knowing who he was. The gods, and of course your grandfather, rewarded him by giving him a chance to make more of his bloodline."

"Then it is quite the fitting name."

"Indeed."

"And you followed in your grandfather's footsteps as a sailor?"

"Well, my father did first. And then me. Captains, all of us."

"A family tradition."

The captain smiled.

The corridor gave way to a garden, birds tweeting from atop a tree, the afternoon sun starting to wane towards setting.

"Your father was telling me about your time with the orcs," the captain continued.

My father doesn't have the slightest idea about my time with the orcs.

"Yes, it was a lovely experience. I learned so much about them, about their culture, their history, their customs."

How to pleasure them, how to be good and obedient, how to take cock in all my holes every day...

"It must have been an interesting experience, going from here to there."

"Well, they are quite different in many ways."

"The ones I met on the expedition were blunt and coarse, but trustworthy and brave."

"Did you meet many?"

"Not many. But enough to form an impression."

"Valenzis sent sailors to the expedition?" she asked curiously.

"No, these were pirates, Princess."

"Truly?"

The captain nodded.

"There were some who were willing to help us."

"Interesting."

"There was one in particular who told me about his dozen children. Some half-breeds, some full orcs. Said most of the profit he makes from piracy goes to them and their mothers. I had assumed pirates just spent their coin on..."

He hesitated.

"...unsavory things."

She fought back a smile at his choice of words.

Much more polite than 'whores and whiskey'.

The duo came back out onto the castle grounds.

"Well, this is where I take my leave," the captain said, offering a respectful bow.

"I would like to have you over for supper before we leave," she told him. "I think it's important I get to know the captain of my ship."

"I agree, Princess. I'll be over."

She curtsied, and strode away, sensing his gaze on her for a few seconds.

Once he was out of sight, her thoughts shifted to the trip.

A trip through the Free Lands with Deiara. I won't be able to slut around carelessly, but maybe we can have some fun. Especially if we're going to Rendevel. I can go back to the Pink Petal.

Other exciting thoughts kept her arousal humming on the way back to her chambers. She slipped into the corridor leading to Deiara's room. Moans reached her ears from around the corner, so she crept closer, and peeked inside.

Her handmaiden was atop Athar, her back to the princess, the ambassador's hands on her hips helping her grind sinuously into his lap. The princess slunk around the corner and padded forward.

The ambassador quickly noticed her approach.

"Look who finally showed up."

Her handmaiden glanced back, not stopping, her breasts swaying to her movements. The princess came closer, biting her lip, eyes sliding to where the older woman was impaled atop a thick orc cock.

Before she could speak up, Deiara pointed to the chair against the wall.

"Sit down and be quiet until we're done, sweetling."

Gwennalyn nodded meekly.

Her handmaiden turned her full attention back to the ambassador, putting both hands on his broad chest and speeding up her hips, driving herself onto his cock with a touch more urgency.

Athar rolled over suddenly, swinging her down to the bed, leaving her underneath him. Her yelp gave way to a purr, her legs wrapping around his waist. His hands moved, one going around to palm her ass, the other taking her by the shoulder, both points of leverage necessary for the ensuing series of thrusts. She moaned, her breasts bouncing from the force, her hands grabbing at the sheets, her eyes fluttering. The ferocity of his thrusts made the princess squirm on the chair. Deiara fought to speak, juddered by the constant impacts, skewered repeatedly by the throbbing shaft.