Heir to the Throne

(Edited and improved by the lovely s0rethr0at)

Princess Adne stepped out onto the balcony and into the brilliant summer sunlight. The cheers of her people rose to meet her ears as she took her place between her parents, the King and Queen. She smiled and dipped her head graciously in acknowledgment, waiting for the applause to die down. When it did, her mother and father each placed a hand on her shoulders. To her right, her mother began to speak.

"To our esteemed guests, I extend a warm welcome. We are gathered from far and wide to celebrate the birth of my daughter, heir to the throne, Princess Adne, twenty-five years ago today. Today is a day to feast, drink, and dance in honor of your future Queen. Before we begin the festivities, the Princess has prepared a few words for us all."

Adne stepped forward, the high-waisted skirt of her lavender-colored gown rippling in the sun. She placed her hands on the railing of the balcony, her long oversleeves falling back to her elbows.

"Thank you all for being here today," she began. "With each passing year, my love for this Queendom grows, as does my dedication to serving its people, both now and as your eventual Queen..." She continued speaking but allowed her mind to drift away from the well-practiced words. She had always found a speech to be overly formal for such an occasion. But it was a tradition that her mother adored, so Adne humored her. After all, it provided her with a valuable opportunity.

Her eyes scanned the crowd as she spoke, working their way to the back of the group where the gleaming suits of metal stood guard. The knights attended the event in full armor, helmets and all, another old tradition that the knights took immense pride in carrying out. And over the past five years, it had proven itself very useful to Adne. Her gaze passed over the last row of knights, still patiently searching. They came to a halt on the penultimate metal-clad figure. Her gaze settled here as she concluded her speech, the roar of the crowd filling her ears once more. Adne smiled a small, secret smile to herself.

She looked forward to the coming evening very much indeed.

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The Knight sat in the guard tower next to one of his fellow soldiers, watching the guests trickle out of the castle. Some appeared more steady on their feet than others. The temperature had mercifully gone down with the sun, and the sound of laughter drifted up to the tower on a cool twilight breeze. It was a very peaceful scene.

Peace, however, was the last thing the Knight was feeling.

His mind was ablaze, and every nerve in his body was wound tight as a bowstring. He replayed the event in his mind for the hundredth time, trying to make sense of it:

He was standing in the courtyard during the Princess's speech, dutifully sweating buckets in his armor, when it happened. The Princess -who, from his position at the very back of the crowd, was not much more than a dazzling purple and golden sunbeam upon the balcony- somehow looked right at him. A jolt like lightning had shot through his body, and suddenly he could see her as clearly as if they were standing face to face. Her delicate features framed by honey blonde locks spilling from the braid coiled atop her head, her jeweled circlet glinting in the sun, her emerald green eyes staring straight into his. She smiled at him.

He had only a split second to wonder at her beauty, and at the sheer madness of what was happening before she hurtled away from him with frightening speed and became an indiscernible faraway figure once more.

The Knight decided that he must have suffered some sort of heat-induced hysteria. After all, he had never actually seen the Princess up close before. Perhaps his mind had simply conjured a momentary escape from the sweltering heat? Yes, that must have been it. He was finally starting to feel at ease when his companion suddenly scrambled to his feet with a cacophony of clanking metal.

"Good evening, Your Royal Majesty," he said a bit breathlessly. The Knight jerked his head around to see Princess Adne standing not ten feet away from them, having approached soundlessly on soft slippered feet. His mouth fell open, and had he not been stunned beyond all reasonable thought, he might have been glad for the cover of his helmet.

For there stood the woman from his hallucination, in the flesh, unmistakably real. She met his eyes and flashed him the same exact smile as before, a smile wrought with mystery and promise. His companion's gauntlet made sharp contact with the back of his helmet, and he realized with a thrill of horror how disrespectful he was being. He clambered to his feet and hastily saluted.

"Your Majesty," was all he could manage. She inclined her head to each of them in turn.

"Good Sirs," she said in her clear and melodious voice, "I thank you for your noble service, today and always. I know it is late, and the time is nearly upon us for you to retire to your sleeping quarters, but I must ask one last favor of you. I came up to the rampart to watch the sunset, but I fear I have lingered too long. I rarely venture outside after nightfall, you see, and would greatly appreciate an escort to my chambers."

Beside him, the Knight's companion betrayed his excitement with a squeak of his armor as he stood up even straighter.

"Your Majesty, it would be our most treasured honor-"

"Actually, good Sir," the Princess interjected, turning her gaze to the Knight, "one will suffice."

His companion's disappointment and jealousy were palpable, but the Knight paid him little heed. His heart was pounding such that he feared he might collapse. The day's events, coupled with the Princess's dizzying beauty, were bearing down upon him, and for a moment, he could not move. Princess Adne gave him an encouraging smile, and his head seemed to clear. He stepped forward and proffered his arm as though he had done so a thousand times. The Princess took it, causing his newfound calm to falter a bit, and together they set off down the rampart, leaving his companion to his undoubtedly sour thoughts.

As they walked, many questions rose up within him. What had transpired that morning? Had the Princess felt it too? Had she, in fact, been the cause? He feared that to ask any of them would be to reveal himself as insane. Instead, they walked in silence, broken only by the gentle creaking of the Knight's armor and the swishing of the Princess's cloak.

He stole glances at her through the slats in his helmet, afraid to let his gaze linger even though she couldn't see his face. She was slight, the top of her elaborately braided head not quite reaching his shoulder, and her profile peeking out from the golden waves was dainty and fae-like. She was somewhat dwarfed by the dark cloak that covered her from neck to ankle, but she carried herself with dignity nonetheless. She turned to look at him, and he felt a jolt nearly as powerful as the one from that morning.

"You may have noticed that we are not on the path to the Royal bed chambers," she said. The Knight had not noticed, but hoping to conceal this fact, he nodded. The Princess stopped walking, and he followed suit. They were standing at the foot of a spiral staircase leading up to a high tower. She let go of his arm and came around to stand directly in front of him. She looked up at his faceless helmet, which her eyes seemed to cut through like a knife through butter.

"Sir Knight, it is here that I must call upon your sacred oath to this Queendom. You must swear to me upon your life that if you ascend these steps with me, you will never breathe a word of what transpires at the top to anyone. If you cannot promise me this, then we shall turn back, and you shall escort me to my quarters and never mention this tower to anyone."

He stared down at her. There was no trace of warmth in her eyes now; she was deathly serious. She held his gaze, awaiting his answer. He looked at the shadowy, unassuming staircase and could not fathom a single guess as to what might lie at the top. Despite this, he heard himself saying,

"I swear on my life, Your Majesty."

Her face broke out into a grin, surprising him once again.

"Then let us continue!"

She turned on her heel, cloak swirling around her ankles, and led the way up the winding stairs.

At the top stood a wooden door with a heavy lock upon it. The Princess turned to face him again, some of the gravity returning to her countenance.

"I shall wait here whilst you go in. You will find a piece of parchment with a set of instructions. Follow these instructions exactly, then call for me, and I will enter. Do not call me until you have fulfilled all of the instructions, is that clear?"

The Knight swallowed, his mouth rather dry, and nodded.

From beneath her cloak, the Princess produced a large key on a chain placed around her neck.

"Oh, and you won't be needing that," she said, with a touch of amusement in her voice, "there are no foes to smite in here." The Knight realized that his hand had moved reflexively to the hilt of his sword in anticipation of this unknown quest, and he dropped it back to his side, chagrined.

The Princess unlocked the door and swung it open, stepping aside to allow him entry. He walked past her and was surprised to find himself in a simple circular apartment. A large bed adorned with many colorful cushions sat cradled in the farthest curve of the room, and an enormous stone bathtub was placed near the center. The tub was filled with water, purple flower petals floating languidly on the surface. He turned back toward the Princess, but she was already closing the door.

"I shall be seeing you soon, good Knight," was all she said.

The Knight turned back to survey the room, hopelessly confused but aching with curiosity. He spotted a piece of parchment resting on a chest of drawers near the bath and strode over to pick it up. It read:

Remove your armor and underclothes. Get into the bath. You have worked hard, so enjoy it, but do not linger too long. Towels are located in the bottom drawer. If you have a beard, please remove it. The necessary supplies can be found in the top drawer. In the middle drawer, you will find a clean set of underclothes and boots; dress in these. Roll the sleeves of the shirt up to your elbows and leave the laces loose. Replace your helmet on your head, but only the visor; leave the bottom half of your face exposed. Sit on the bed and call for me ONLY when you have completed every step.

The parchment was signed Princess Adne in a beautiful looping script. Still utterly nonplussed, the Knight embarked on the noble task of taking a bath.

With no small sense of relief, he removed his heavy armor and sword and set them against the wall. He peeled off his reeking undergarments and rolled them into a shameful ball which he hid beneath the armor, praying the Princess would not see (or smell) them. He climbed into the fragrant bath and nearly died of pleasure; the warm water was like a healing salve on his aching muscles. He sank in up to his chin and reveled in it for several minutes before remembering the admonishment to not spend too much time there. He dipped his head beneath the water and combed his fingers through his hair, then splashed water over his face. Upon getting out, he dried himself with a luxurious towel pulled from the bottom drawer.

In the top drawer rested a shaving blade, a pot of thick cream, and a small mirror which he examined his face in. Though he didn't have a full beard, he decided to rid himself of the stubble lining his jaw and upper lip for good measure. In the middle drawer, he found a crisp white linen undershirt, a pair of tan trousers, and soft leather boots. He put them on, tucking the trousers into the boots and arranging the shirt as instructed. He placed the top portion of his helmet on his head and sat on the bed, feeling rather foolish. After reading the parchment over thrice, he nervously called out;

"I'm finished, Your Majesty."

The door opened.

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Princess Adne entered the room and was greeted by a delicious sight. The Knight sat on the bed, hands resting upon his knees. He had followed her instructions to the letter. His sleeves were rolled up to reveal his sculpted forearms, the lacing at the top of his shirt roguishly untied so that she caught a glimpse of the tawny hair adorning his chest. He had a strong but not brutish jaw and lovely full lips. She regretted that she would not have the pleasure of seeing the rest of his face. Her gaze moved down to the tight-fitting trousers, and it was all she could do not to lick her lips.

She took a moment to compose herself before she spoke.

"I am well aware that as a knight, you have taken a vow to serve my mother, my father, and myself without question. But tonight, I ask you to set aside that vow in favor of another. A vow to honor not only my wishes but also your own, and to tell me if I go against those wishes. For tonight I am not your Princess, but your Queen, in name and spirit only. Do you understand what I am asking of you?"

The man cocked his head, thinking, then said, "No."

Adne threw back her head and laughed, the sound bouncing around the cylindrical room.

"I appreciate your honesty, Knight. Let me put it simply." She began unfastening her cloak. "I intend to fuck you senseless, and if you have any objections--" the cloak fell heavily to the floor "--please make them known."

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For the second time that day, the Knight feared he had gone completely mad. Her Royal Majesty Princess Adne stood before him wearing nothing but a gossamer chemise. The translucent white garment came just to her knees, and the scooping neckline revealed the tops of her breasts. The Knight blushed when he saw that her nipples were visible through the sheer fabric.

Only after he had fully taken in this incredible and improbable sight did her words register:

I intend to fuck you senseless.

"I--what--me?" he croaked.

"Only if you will have me, of your own free will, independent of your obligation to me as a knight. If you desire me in this way, say 'I accept'."

The Knight looked at her. More of her hair had come loose and was tumbling down her shoulders. Her erect nipples were straining against the chemise, and he could just make out the patch of light brown hair between her thighs.

He felt his cock begin to harden.

"I accept," he managed.

"Excellent," she said, and there was an almost animal glint in her eye now. But she did not approach him yet.

"First, the rules are as follows. You are not to touch me unless I give you my permission. You are not to attempt to remove my clothing. You are not to remove your own clothing, especially not your helmet. You are to address me as 'Queen Adne' or 'My Queen' only. It is as I said --in name and spirit only. You may refuse my commands at any time. Do you accept?"

"I accept," the Knight repeated, still unsure whether this was real or just a very vivid dream.

"Excellent," Queen Adne said again, and pounced.

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Oh, how she had missed this.

Adne considered herself to own a significant amount of willpower. She did not engage in any dalliances outside of this yearly birthday gift to herself. But once the wheels were in motion, it was difficult not to tear her latest conquest to shreds within the first minute.

Her initial leap upon the man had knocked him flat on his back with a surprised "oof". After ensuring that she had not injured him, she set upon him. She pressed her lips to his, which were soft and pillowy. Adne had never kissed a man before; the act seemed too intimate for her purposes. She had planned to reserve it for marriage. But the Knight's lips were so enticing that it happened before she even knew what she was doing.

The first soft kiss instantly lit a fire within her that she had never felt before. He reciprocated shyly at first, but his intensity grew as hers did. She could feel him smiling beneath her lips. She opened his mouth with hers and plunged her tongue in. He gave a soft moan that sent shivers down her entire body. She could feel his hard cock through his trousers against her thigh.

Patience, restraint, she reminded herself.

She kissed him for a moment longer before pulling away, dragging his bottom lip through her teeth as she did so. It bounced back into place, looking a little bruised. She ran her thumb across his smooth cheek.

"You shaved for me just as I asked," she purred.

"Yes," he said breathlessly.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, My Queen."

She smiled. "Very good." She leaned down and followed the path her thumb had taken with her mouth, continuing down to his muscular neck, planting kisses over his throat. Now that that particular barrier had been broken she seemed unable to stop. He inhaled sharply when she came to the curve where his neck met his shoulder and gave it a quick bite. She wrapped her lips around the same spot and sucked. He moaned again. She slipped her hand down his shirt-- the hair there was soft-- and caught his nipple between her fingers. He moaned louder and arched his back, and she knew it was time.

She climbed off of him, trailing her breasts down his body as she went, and undid the lacing of his trousers.

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The Knight could only watch in a haze of amazement and arousal as Queen Adne took his throbbing cock out of his trousers. She gave it a few experimental strokes, causing his legs to jerk involuntarily. She looked up at him with an expression of care and concern that threatened to explode his overworked heart. He waved his hand in the air, trying to indicate that all was well.

"I just...I have never..."

"Had your cock touched by a Queen before?" she suggested wryly.

"Touched by...anyone before," he admitted.

She became very still. "I see," she said quietly. "Then I shall be gentle."

"Not too gentle, I hope," he said before he could stop himself.

She laughed. "You have a spark in you which I am quite enchanted by, Knight. Worry not, I will ensure you are well taken care of."

She focused her attention on his member once more. She lowered her head and opened her mouth, allowing the very tip of her tongue to touch the head. She flicked her absurdly green eyes up to his face. He nodded so hard he had to grip his helmet to prevent it from flying off. She hesitated a moment longer, breathing a hot teasing breath over his cock, before seemingly swallowing it whole.

The Knight very nearly broke one of the rules; his hand flew out reflexively to touch her head, not for the purpose of being forceful but rather to brace himself against anything at all. He caught himself and flung the offending arm across his helmet instead. Sounds he had been previously unaware he was capable of making came pouring out of him with every bob of his Queen's head. This seemed to galvanize her, and soon she was moving her wet mouth up and down his shaft with such vigor that he knew it wouldn't be long. As he felt his orgasm building, he attempted to speak.

"My Queen, I-I-" She somehow knew exactly what he was trying to convey. At the very last second, she pulled her lips away from his cock and continued to stroke him with a firm hand as spurt after spurt of hot cum landed upon the white shirt. The Knight writhed and howled under her grip, certain that he was to die in ecstasy at her hands.

As the waves of pleasure subsided, she laid down next to him and stroked his cheek. He was gasping as though he had just been pulled from a frigid river.

"That's right, my pet, catch your breath," she crooned. "Because we are far from done."

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