Her Queen

Disclaimer: All characters in this story are eighteen years old or above. All readers should also be eighteen years or above. There are elements of non-consent and reluctance, as well as sadism and sheer evil. I would like to thank LaRascasse for editing and critiquing my writing. This is the fairytale that no one would write for me, so I wrote for myself. And with that being said, I hope that you all will enjoy my first work. -lescivious

Once upon a time...

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She was born Princess Luciana of the Kingdom of Delphine. The daughter of Lionel the Strong, and his queen, Wilhelmina. A grand celebration was held in her honor upon her birth, a parade with every nobleman and peasant in attendance. Her parents named her for the brightness she brought to their kingdom. And she lived up to that name. She was a beautiful, radiant, and happy child. At two years of age, Luciana was allowed by her mother to run barefoot through the castle, flowers adorning her sandy brown curls. A smile was ever-present on her gentle features. And from it, the most weathered of warriors were made to grin. At six years of age, Luciana would sit on King Lionel's knee as he met with the leaders of his military and foreign lands. All would admire the girl's sweet smile and coo at the swinging of her legs from under her skirts. At twelve, Luciana stepped from the palace with her mother to attend to the queen's duties, and the common women would style their daughter's hair to match the flowing curls of their princess. At eighteen, Luciana had grown into a beautiful young maiden. Her smile continued to charm every person she met. Her golden skin was the envy of every maid in the lands surrounding her kingdom. She was envied by all, but arrogant to none.

Now, even after her eighteenth birthday, Princess Luciana would beg of her mother on the third day of every week to leave the castle and visit the orphanage. This, her mother would allow her. Luciana would don layers of rags and a hood before traveling to the outskirts of the main city. Her mother would make excuses to her father as she read the children stories from the books she carried with her in her satchel. She did so love the smiling, dirty children, though they would never believe that the kind-hearted, hooded girl was their own princess.

On one occasion, Luciana brought each of the orphans a gift. After almost every child had his own, Luciana approached a girl seated in the corner. To Mathilde, the quiet child with matted golden curls, she brought one of her own brushes, encrusted with gold that she insisted was real. The other children fell over each other in laughter, but Mathilde believed Luciana. She believed that there was no way that someone so kind as her could be anything less than a princess, but she kept that knowledge to herself, offering only a toothless smile to the gift-giver. Hastily after, Luciana bid the children farewell to return to the kingdom and dine with her family.

And this happened every week on the third day, the only day when Luciana's schedule was not filled with teas and lessons to become a more graceful version of herself. A version of herself suited to be wed, as was her destiny as princess. For, in Delphine and the surrounding kingdoms, once a royal turned eighteen, she was hastily married off. Each day, Luciana's parents hurried her from meeting to meeting with possible suitors, all princes from nearby kingdoms, with the goal of advancing the power of Delphine. But Luciana had never once considered princes, herself. As her close friends and even servants bantered incessantly about the young men they fancied for themselves, Luciana would merely smile and look away. Unbeknownst to any person other than herself and her diary, Luciana was fonder of the fairer sex. This infatuation started with the nude sculptures that stood in the palace's gardens that Luciana had always paused to admire. Her companions were under the impression that each time she stopped, she was appreciating the artistry. In fact, Luciana was appreciating the artistry of the female form. With every curve and dip, she was further mesmerized and drawn into a lustful state. Her underclothes would stick to her wet skin as she fantasized about the sculptures coming to life and caressing her gently. She imagined that they would touch and grope her body and send her into waves of fulfillment no man ever could. When no one was near, she would reach out to graze her fingertips along the nipples of the statues, imagining the cold marble could grow harder under her touch. This was her secret.

When Wilhelmina would invite her companions to the palace, Luciana always asked to be in attendance. She observed as her mother's companions tried on her old dresses and laughed in merriment about how dreadfully thin she and her daughter were. She would watch intently as the women shed their frocks, exposing soft, milky-white skin that was rarely ever exposed. Her heart caught in her throat as she watched the women remove their bodices and reveal the smooth skin of their stomachs and breasts. O, how Luciana yearned to reach out and to touch them. Luciana would watch intently until she sweated profusely and her mother grew concerned. Upon one occasion, the princess was so struck by her desire that she fainted, causing a large stir to erupt among the occupants of the castle.

Touching a woman, being touched by a woman, these were Luciana's fantasies...never to be shared with a soul. She lusted even as she slept, sleeping feverishly and waking up in pools of her own sweat and essence. Her kindness and gentleness were only matched in magnitude with her desire to be touched. And not touched and penetrated by a foul-smelling, rough lad as her companions described to her. Luciana wished to be touched by the slender, deliberate hands of a woman, one who would take her virgin body to places she couldn't yet imagine. Places she wished were real, instead of the marriage in her near future. Luciana didn't wish to be married, but her marriage was as sure as the sky was blue. She would be paired off and married to please her parents; this was her destiny.

Fortunately for Luciana and few others, the demand for diplomacy drew constantly upon her parents' attentions. The Andromeda Kingdom to the West was in need of more Delphinian crafted goods, and the Corrina Kingdom to the South demanded that Delphine purchase more silver. Luciana's father, King Lionel, tried desperately to subdue the raging emotions of the rulers in his vicinity, to avoid war. The armies of Delphine were far inferior to those of the surrounding kingdoms. Were the kingdom encircled by another army, it would be surely besieged. King Lionel was forced to find a way to strengthen his armies to better prepare for the prospect of war. What would benefit him more than anything else was an army to aid him in the chance that war befell Delphine.

Luciana felt safe from destiny, as she spent her days living freely ruling her subjects generously, notably the children. She avoided destiny for months of turmoil until her father asked that she and her mother be present one night for supper. The women hastily agreed and were soon seated at the large hall table along with King Lionel, who shared that he had wonderful news. Luciana and the queen grinned perfect smiles of delight in response to this announcement. The king had come to an agreement with the Andromeda Kingdom that his daughter would be married to their esteemed Prince Andrew, forging a military bond and economic agreement between the two lands. The king announced that Andrew would in two days' time visit their kingdom to meet Luciana, and in a fortnight, the two would be married. Queen Wilhelmina was overjoyed upon the announcement of this news. She and the king smiled into each other's eyes, delighted that their only daughter would finally be married, and in an advantageous marriage for Delphine.

Luciana was devastated. Staving off her tears, the princess asked to be dismissed to her chambers to revel in her excitement about the coming marriage. Her parents delightedly allowed this to her, still discussing merrily the day's agreement. The princess ran to her room and threw herself upon her bed, heaving deep sobs into her expensive bedclothes. When marriage was a distant prospect, it didn't have the same effect as it did now. The thought of being married, having a man put his hands on her, and further, touch her intimate areas with the foulness of his flesh sent her into another fit of sobs. That was not what she wanted, it was the opposite of the gentle touch she craved, the gentle feeling of a woman kissing her softly and causing her to shiver violently against her flesh. Luciana would not allow this to take place. She would run from the kingdom before she allowed it.

And run she did, sneaking from her window into the trees beyond the palace. To her advantage, one of the palace guards had fallen asleep next to his horse. She released the animal with all the stealth she could muster, and successfully mounted it. By the time the guard realized what had taken place, Luciana was riding off into the wood. The princess tore her dress on loose branches and splintered her soft bare feet but continued to ride. She wouldn't be promised off to any prince, not if she could stand it. Luciana evaded the guards by steering the horse away from the worn paths. The princess rode as far as she could before fatigue took her over. Yawning softly, Luciana dismounted the horse, tied him to a rock, and rested under a willow tree to take her repose. She was afraid, but not more afraid than free. If she were eaten by wolves, it would be a better fate than that which awaited her back in her castle.

deux

Queen Adira of the Kingdom of Valencia was a forceful and powerful woman. She was as ruthless as she was cunning and as beautiful as she was terrible. The woman stood at the height of a man, though her statuesque figure was undoubtedly feminine. The eyes of every man were drawn to the ivory white of her prominent chest, the smallness of her waist, the seduction of her glance. All would agree that never was a woman so fair. With her long tresses of raven hair and piercing, pale-green eyes, the woman could will any man to his knees. All of Adira's subjects lived in reverent fear of her and she had the strongest armies of all of the kingdoms as far as the eye could see. Every able-bodied man was required to train in her military to fight for his country and his queen. Adira was wicked, but the men of her kingdom loved to serve her, for her beauty far eclipsed any of their objection. Every king far and wide feared Queen Adira's power. A handful had even sent messengers to ask her hand in marriage to subdue her. Each messenger had returned mutilated beyond recognition, most of the time only able to move enough to steer a horse back to his kingdom. Strangely enough, every time a female messenger was sent in order to soothe the queen's wrath, only stray empty horses donning royal colors were returned to their kingdoms, whipped badly and volatile. What happened to the maidens was never known.

Beyond her insurmountable power and fairness, Queen Adira lived lavishly. She had slaves to bathe, clothe, and feed her. In fact, the queen's palace was filled with slaves and servants, the majority of these being female. She was known in her palace for inviting young disobedient slave girls into her private quarters for hours on end, the girls leaving badly shaken and beaten, refusing to detail the events of their encounter with the queen. The queen dressed in the most expensive of fabrics, looking always the image of grace and elegance. Her subjects were well provided for so long as they lived in full submission to her, but those beyond her kingdom walls were not keen on this knowledge. They told tales of how ruthless and domineering the wicked woman was, how no one who entered her kingdom ever returned, and how no one that lived within her kingdom walls ever left. But Adira's reputation did her kingdom well. Valencia suffered few visitors and rarely experienced war. Each person there found himself accounted for and never needed venture beyond the walls of the kingdom. Save for the domination of their ruler, Valencians were able to make the most of their days.

One such day in Valencia, Queen Adira sat comfortably in her chambers as a new, pale slave girl knelt at her feet and massaged them. The queen sighed contentedly as the maiden's small fingers kneaded into her skin.

"Oh, Diana, Darling. That feels exquisite," Adira moaned appreciatively. The girl kept quiet as she continued to work her fingers into her Mistress's feet. Two other such slaves stood on each side of the queen, fanning her with large leaves as she relaxed into her furniture.

"Higher, Darling," Adira mused, causing the girl's hands to move higher up her leg. The woman hummed in approval, massaging the girl's scalp with the fingers of her left hand. "Higher," she whispered, now feeling hands on her thigh. Adira felt that it was time to initiate the new slave. She lifted her skirts to her waist.

"Diana," Adira stated in a commanding tone. The girl looked up to Her Majesty's eyes. "Use your mouth," the queen directed calmly.

Diana looked afraid, so Adira grabbed her face in her hands. "Kiss my legs, Diana. I should not be made to ask twice," she spoke frighteningly more sternly through clenched jaw.

"Yes, Mistress. I'm sorry, Mistress," the young girl responded hastily, proceeding to hesitantly press her lips to the queen's fair thighs.

"That's lovely, Darling," Adira sighed appreciatively at the young lips pressed against her skin. The other servants in Adira's chambers stood silently. Each was well aware of what was happening to young Diana but kept her eyes fixed and her lips sealed lest she be the queen's next victim. Adira looked from face to face of her slaves and laughed a hearty laugh. Each one was a wretched thing...and desperate for her control, she was sure.

"Diana, would you remove my underclothes? I think that it is time you became better acquainted with your Mistress."

Diana obediently began to pull down the woman's trousers from beneath her skirts, though appearing confused. "May I speak, Mistress," the young girl inquired.

"Of course," Queen Adira smirked.

"Am I not already acquainted with Your Majesty, Mistress? What does Her Majesty mean by 'become acquainted'?" Diana inflected. Her genuine innocent confusion pleased her queen to no end.

"In due time, my Dear," Adira spoke slowly. "Press your cheek to my thigh," she commanded. Diana obeyed; her nose and mouth now merely centimeters from Her Ladyship's womanhood.

Good Girl.

"Resume kissing me," Adira ordered.

The color drained from Diana's face. Clearly, the girl had not until this precise moment realized her Mistress's wishes. The young servant girl started to tremble, knelt at the queen's feet. The musky scent of the queen's womanhood filled her nose, amplified by the dark lower tresses of hair on the woman's sacred area. The queen couldn't mean that she wanted for Diana to kiss her there, but it became increasingly clearer that these were Adira's exact wishes. Diana was unaware that such perverse desires lived within the mind of the ruler of the land she resided in. Adira sank her fingers into Diana's hair as a warning to the punishment that she would receive upon her refusal to obey her mistress. Hot tears began to streak down Diana's youthful face; she was not ready to serve her country like this.

Adira grew impatient with the pathetic, whimpering girl between her legs, and gripped Diana's hair tightly in her fingers. Adira pushed the young girl's face deep into her nirvana, sighing as lips caressed her where she most craved them. "Kiss me, Slave," she cruelly dictated, her previous kind demeanor lost in her annoyance with the girl.

"Oh," Adira moaned, rubbing her essence into every pore of her servant's face. This was the type of massage the queen enjoyed. The remaining slaves in Adira's chambers did not flinch from position as their new colleague was assaulted and humiliated by the cruel monarch. Each had endured her initiation, and now, so would Diana. Thus, professional and aloof the servants stood as Diana's youthful face was smothered by a mixture of the queen's royal nectar and her own sorrowful tears.

Adira was preparing to disrobe and further ravish the girl when a knock sounded from the door of her chambers. The queen let go of her grip on Diana's head and let her skirts fall around her ankles again. Adira was already far from pleased with whoever stood on the other side of those doors. Pushing Diana's pathetic form a number of feet away so that her crying would not disturb her royal duties, Adira spoke,

"Let them in."

The slave closest to the door rushed to open it for Her Majesty. A frazzled looking young lad stood outside the door, seemingly already aware of the queen's annoyance at his disturbance.

"Mistress, I'm sorry to disturb you during your leisure hours, but there is a situation of urgency."

Adira crossed her arms atop her bosom. "Very well then. What might that be?"

"A group of knights surveying the woods surrounding the kingdom walls has found a maiden. She had fallen asleep against a tree, and they assume that her horse ran away during the night."

"What is urgent about a maiden, William? I should hope you've not disrupted me without good cause."

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty, but this is not but a peasant girl. She claims to be a princess. Luciana of Delphine, no less."

"She claims?" Adira narrowed her eyes at the boy.

"She does, Ma'am. And her clothes are made of expensive materials, though she seems to have tattered them whilst running in the forests."

Adira wondered to herself what a decent young royal would be doing wandering about Valencia, of all places. Hadn't her parents warned her of the evil that lay just beyond those walls? The queen smiled to herself before standing to her feet and again addressing the male in her chambers.

"If this Luciana really be royalty, then I should like to see her. Have her bathed and then bring her to the hall."

Adira snapped her fingers, commanding her servants wordlessly to place her furs upon her shoulders.

"I assume that she is in the dungeons already?"

"Yes, Your Majesty. And the servants have stripped and shaven her there as you request of your captives."

"Good. However, I shall need her clothed in order to enter into my castle," Adira stated calmly. "After she is bathed, put her in a dress. One of mine. And do not bother with a corset or underclothes."

"I shall tend to that immediately, Your Majesty."

The young man turned to leave the queen's chambers before being stopped abruptly by her next words.

"Do not leave just yet, William. I've not dismissed you."

The boy froze solid in his tracks. "Yes, Ma'am, I apologize. What is the matter?"

"I should hope that she be worthy of my time, William."

Adira fixed a very threatening stare on the lad before waving him away. Were William to lack ample reason, Adira would have him publicly flogged... or castrated. Perhaps she would even have Diana administer the punishment. In what most others would consider a sneer, Adira smiled to herself. The queen watched silently as William scampered off to do her bidding, justly. What with the lad's trembling form, Adira assumed the best.

Perhaps this princess would be worth her energy.

trois

The queen descended the large marble stairwell to the main hall. She was flocked by a number of servants, scrambling to meet her pace. Begrudgingly, the queen entered her hall and took a seat on her gold-encrusted throne. Whoever called for this much attention would have to prove themself to be more important than her unfinished business waiting within her rooms. Adira thrust behind her shoulders her long dark hair, fixing a scowl upon her handsome visage. Her cold green eyes shone with the power and dominance that her reign was so dependent upon. Whoever entered Queen Adira's hall would have to prepare for Her Majesty at her full capacity.