In the Kingdom of Smut Ch. 05

byHookedonPhoenix©

Martin leaned still closer, baffled at the strange way the lettering seemed to jump out at him. The text was clearly not like the rest of the book, done in looping, bolded lettering using ink that was clearly newer than the rest upon the page. It didn't even seem completely dry, in fact. Martin only realized what he was saying as he read it out loud:

"I will not be tardy to Ms. Aveline's class again, under pain of- oof!"

The sound of clicking latches signalled a sudden pressure on his wrists. With growing horror Martin saw himself shackled by hitherto unseen clasps sprouting out from the arms of the chair. He twisted in place as a sudden heat arose within his body. He was... it was so hot in here! Why was he sweating? Martin looked up at Aveline, and immediately understood his predicament.

"Hmm..." She said, regarding him with the same care and intent as a scientist viewing her dissection. "I suppose you can be tricked that way. I'd have thought better of my pupil. It seems that I owe General Telriss a fair amount of gold, now."

"Uh... Aveline?" Martin asked, dread filling his voice. "What are you doing?"



"Instructing you, young master." She said, smiling sweetly at him. She leaned forward, displaying her bounteous cleavage at a sharp, vertical angle to him. "A lesson in common courtesy, and in manners..." her hand reached out and boldly groped his stiffening cock through his breeches. "-And in trust." She stroked him through the fabric and he groaned. "I trust you to be here on time and ready to learn, and you trust me to not spike your drink with a powerful aphrodisiac and lock you to your chair."

"What?!" Martin gaped, still flabbergasted by the whole situation.

That same, reserved laugh lifted from her lungs again. "You know, Martin, for a person as naturally gifted and intelligent as yourself, you are quite gullible." Her smile widened across the whole of her face. "Let's begin the real lesson of today, shall we?"

"Lesson one!" Aveline leapt to her feet like a drunkard starting a bar fight. She planted one of her long-socked legs atop the table sitting between them, giving Martin a long, stolid look upon her bare thigh. With the force of practiced strength she shoved aside the end table, moving into Martin's space with a dark grin and a gleam in her eye. She stepped atop the arm of his chair, narrowly missing spearing his elbow with her high heel as she spread her leg and shoved her crotch in his face.

"Vocal training! You've used your tongue so callously, lying to my face with such poor falsehoods. It seems I haven't given you the gift of gab, after all!" She pulled back her skirt, exposing her crotch. Aveline rocked her hips against him, and Martin found himself frenching her barely covered pussy lips.

"The first way we do that is by sharpening your tongue. A shame, I seem to have the only whetstone lying about." She looked down at him, a wild, triumphant look folding upon her visage. "You have two minutes."

Martin tried to pull his mouth free to retort, but she simply leaned closer to him. He could smell her sexuality through her undergarment. Martin only managed out a muffled: "Befwoh whuh?" He felt her fingers thread themselves through his hair. Her other hand pinched his shoulder, pulling him yet closer. Her smile was as sweet as spiderwebs.

"You probably don't want to know the answer to that question, young master." Martin's eyes widened. Pulling back for only the barest of instants, Aveline pulled aside the offending fabric, exposing her sex and shoving it against Martin's mouth. He redoubled his efforts, bending his face into the act as he dove his tongue deep into the folds of her vagina. Aveline let loose a soft sigh of approval, running her fingers through his majestic, blonde curls as she began to work herself into it. "Mmmm. That's a good pupil: plumb your teacher's depths!" Martin did, working his wrists around in their manacles as he did, trying to find some alternate method should his efforts be in vain. They didn't budge. He was trapped by the stacked comportment of her presence.

She loomed over him, the hem of her skirt bumping his nose as he licked hard against her labia, staring up at her eyes as though he were a youth peeking from beneath his covers. Aveline turned her head, a precise movement as she applied a bit more force into her grasp. She pulled his head harder, cooing as he leapt up her leaking snatch in long, thrusting movements. She reached behind her and pulled something from the back of her skirt. It was a silver pocket watch, engraved and intricate in design. She flicked open the cover, peering with laughing eyes at the time. "A minute and thirty."

Martin knew she wasn't close. He grunted and tried to lean forward in the chair, bending his arms back behind him in discomfort as he tried to find a deeper trajectory. So far, he had only managed to tease her entrance; if he wanted to succeed in satisfying her before the imposed deadline, he would need more leverage. He wrinkled his nose as he planted it atop her mound, shifting awkwardly along her crotch as he tried to move into a better position. Her scent was intoxicating, perhaps as a result of that drink she'd slipped him. Martin cursed himself for his foolhardy credulity in believing that all was well for a person as steadfast and rigid as Aveline was. Speaking of which...

Martin tried to shift his hips, the erection in his too-tight pants becoming a legitimate logistical problem as he fidgeted in place. The amount of blood in his growing cock was such that it felt more like a bending bone than a boner, and it was painful to sit in such a compromising position. He continued to lick at her all the while, working his way further and further afield, tasting the sweet honeypot that revealed itself to him. "One minute!" She called, and Martin groaned between the pain in his jaw.

Finding an ideal place with the tip of his tongue, Martin drove downwards like a bird of prey on the hunt. He found himself engulfed almost to the base by her insides, and he made the most of his temporary infiltration: swirling his tongue in a rough windmill fashion as he made increasingly frantic attempts to please her to the point of climax. By the sound of Aveline's ever rising pitch, he was doing a good job... just not a quick enough one.

"Oh!" She gasped, when he leaned as deep as he could go and dangled his tongue forward like a worm inside her. He'd reached as far as he could go, and the arduous friction of his taste buds upon her insides was having an admirable effect upon her. A blush arose upon her patrician cheeks. Her eyes squinted in an attempt to hide the clear pleasure she was garnering from this dalliance of the flesh. Her mouth opened, but she bit upon her upper lip to keep it shut, always attempting to maintain the stoic demeanor of a philosopher, rather than a philanderer. "Aah, th-thirty seconds! Best h-huuh... h-hurry, my pupil." She dropped her pleasured smile for a moment, flashing him a teacher's scowl. He knew what that look meant.

Out of options, Martin slithered his tongue free from her soaking nethers. He realized he had only one trump card to play, but it was both a longshot and likely a severe strain on him, given his current entanglements. Resolving himself to the act, Martin leaned forward yet again in the chair, shifting his hips back as he leaned his upper body forward, stretching his shackled arms to the limit of their ability to contort. He used his tongue like a measuring rod, poking and prodding along her sexpot in an effort to find the end goal he knew was at the end of her vaginal runway.

His tongue touched upon something thick, porous yet bulbous. Aveline gave a startled inhale, her fingers scratching his scalp as she clenched his hair in her hands. He'd found her clit, now to actually reach the thing. Martin extended his neck, opening his mouth wide as he used his tongue to guide his lips to their terminus. It took the whole of his effort; sweat beaded upon his brow, and his muscles screamed for release from the uncomfortable torture. His cock was both an erect pillar and a painful reminder of just how maladroite his unnatural sitting position was. Stretching himself to the absolute limit of human restraint, Martin at last managed to wrap his lips upon her buzzer, suckling upon it like the nub of a nipple as he lashed his tongue about, around and upon it in rapid succession.

"Oh, Martin!" Aveline gasped, dropping her tutor's moniker for him as her thin, perfectly manicured brows pulled up upon her sculpted face. At last her mouth opened, and Martin could see the perfect rows of teeth that curved across her awe-inspiring jaw line. She lifted her chin, her eyes lidding but not closing as she began to ride his face, bucking her hips like he was a stallion and she, a milfy jockey tasked with breaking in the wild bronco.

Martin pushed himself to his absolute oral limit, shoving his face atop her mound as he kissed and licked and sucked upon her genitalia. Aveline's voice became higher and higher as she gasped, her mouth shutting with sudden strength as she realized that she was getting too fervent in her 'discipline.'

She affixed Martin with the most chiding look she could manage as he nipped her clitoris, sending a blast of electric energy up her spine that made her cry out like a banshee. She arched her back, pulling Martin's face still closer to her cunt as a blast of girl juices crashed upon the Prince's royal visage. He coughed, continuing his attack even as he felt a small creak build in his neck from the force with which she held him. At last her twitching hip thrusts began to abate, and she slowly pulled back, her eyes observing him with a professor's curiosity.

"Very... very good, Martin." She said, putting a hand to her chest to control her fluttering breath. A small spurt of her juices splashed him again, an aftershock of the previous gush. "Good tongue control, a vigorous pace of muscle movement. You've got a unique methodology with your cunnilingus, arrhythmic while avoiding being untidy in form and function." She looked at her silver pocket watch. A proud smile came to her lips. "E-even got it done within two seconds of the time limit. Well done, you've passed your first lesson."

"Thank you." He panted, collapsing back against the soft cushion of the chair, relieved that he'd managed to last as long in such a precarious position. He had succeeded in his tutor's revenging task, and now he was looking forward to being let out of these shackl- "...Wait," Martin said, "Why are you smiling like that?"

Aveline grinned. "Because I know how you think, young master." She said, chuckling to herself as she stepped off of the chair and leaned in to look at him. She took him by the chin, turning him this way and that as she appraised him with a learned eye. With the speed of a snakebite she leaned forward, licking hard along his quim-soaked cheek, gobbling up the tiny droplets of her own fluids that still stained his personage. Martin shivered as she touched him, the titillation bringing more blood to his pulsing prick. "Nasty lad." She whispered as she licked her lips. "Have I taught you nothing about the importance of appearances?" Martin's eyes went wide with fear again. "How can you expect to rule a nation, with so much of me dripping down your face?"

"Aveline-" Martin began. She put a finger to his lips, silencing him.

"Shh, my pupil. We don't get to use such names when we're learning lessons. You have to earn the right to call me that." She allowed a wisp of a smirk to grace her countenance. "What should you call me, instead?"

Martin gulped. "M-mistress."

Aveline's smile was in her eyes, the warm glow that dilated her pupils and made her look half enrapturing, half terrifying. "Now there's a diligent pupil." She patted his head in patronizing condescension, her other hand reaching down to grasp his turgid member, stroking it hard with clenched fingers through the fabric. Martin grimaced, the pleasure he garnered offset by the lack of release. He inhaled sharply. "Now for your second lesson: common courtesy, a trait you seem to lack, when it comes to my class."

She pulled his pants down his waist, peeling the trousers from his body as Martin did his level best to aid in her endeavor. He watched the hungry way she stared at his erection once it popped up into open view, swaying in the air from the pendulum effect of revealing it to the open air. The great beast twitched when she touched it, her fingers grasping naked skin and giving him an experimental jerk. She smiled, jacking him a second time, watching the minute changes in his facial expression as she made ecstacy into erotic torture.

"For example." She said, beginning to stroke him harder, using robust gestures. "This is common courtesy: granting your lover a modicum of foreplay before the plunge. Despite your repeated transgressions, I've decided to be a bit lenient with your punishment." Her eyes told him what she wanted him to say.

"Thank you, Mistress." He said. Aveline's smile widened. A stray lock of hair drifted down from her strictly controlled hair, and she brushed it behind her ear with a finger. She did the same for Martin, parting his low hanging locks so she could have an unabashed view of his ocular orbs. He blushed as they made eye contact.

"My lovely little pupil." She chided him, "It's so easy to give courtesy, when you're getting civility back. It's quite another when the other party is being... churlish. Would you say you've been ungracious with me?" He nodded, knowing that any other fool excuse would only bring more sensual castigation. "Good. Then we can skip this perfunctory fondling and get to business."

She stood up, stripping her skirt off of her like she was undressing in a mirror, observing her movements and appearance with care. She deftly relieved herself of her bottoms, folding them and placing them in a neat pile atop the chair, patting them fondly for future use. Martin watched her large bottom sway, a small freckle spotting the right cheek like the pointed mark of a pen. When Aveline turned around to face him, a fire was in her eyes. "Shall we begin?"

"W-what..." Martin panted, feeling a lump in his throat and a heaviness in his trousers. "What about our schooling?" He asked the question more for the sake of his freedom than any true loyalty to academia.

Aveline chuckled, hooking her thumbs beneath the fabric of her panties and pulling them off of her waist slowly, leaving a trail of girlish slime dripping from her sex to the soaking crotch of them. She stepped out of each leg one at a time. "How much can one really expect a wayward Prince to care for edifying pursuits of knowledge," She said, taking the second step out of the panties and twirling them about on the end of her finger. "-When there's a nice, warm hole to stick oneself into?" Martin gulped. She tossed her lacy undergarments over onto her chair.

She sashayed forward, lacking bottoms but appearing for all the world to still be the austere tutor above the waist. Beneath, her pussy lips were engorged, split wide like the blooming of a budding flower. Her legs stood apart, giving air to the overheated confines of her femininity. Aside from the wild look in her eyes, her upper body remained stoic and unchanging.

She moved to him, her steel-toed shoes click a rapturous vexation to Martin's ears. She stepped around him, planting her ass in his lap, sandwiching his meat between her clenching thighs as she set her legs on either side of him in the chair. It was astonishing how flexible Aveline was. She smiled at him, running the back of her hand against his cheek, almost delicate in her soft strokes.

"This is your 'riding' test, Martin." She said, her lips so near to his own, whispering out seductive banalities. "Since there's no steed on hand, I'll just have to do. Proper etiquette must be observed at all times, correct?" He nodded, feeling precum build at his tip as she squeezed him with her thighs. Aveline took his chin in hand, turning him like she was inspecting a sculptor's work.

"Mmm, I always forget your features whenever we're this close. So... " She licked his cheek, nipping at his nose before pulling back. "Well-defined." Martin moved to kiss her, but she shoved him back into the chair, "Ah, ah, ah! Young master, where are your manners?"

"S-somewhere else." He managed out. She chuckled.

"A poor time to be making jokes," She squeezed her thighs, it was painful how tight she gripped him by his cock. He felt like he was going to burst. "Especially when I've got you at such a disadvantage." Despite her words, she leaned down, capturing his lips and licking the inside of his mouth with her larger tongue. She hummed in approval when he did not take the bait and try to match tongues with her. She pulled back, her face flushed as she fluttered her long eyelashes at him. "Better."

She planted her palm atop his throbbing head, rubbing on it as she continued to apply and then remove pressure on his base. Aveline moved her hips, beginning a slow, concussive exploration of Martin's limits. He twisted in place, pinned beneath her thunder thighs and expansive rear. Martin moaned with a lecherous tenor; he wanted nothing more than to grab her, to spank her ass and fuck her senseless. But that was not the point of the lesson, nor the reason he had drank that infernal tea. For now, he was helpless, at the tender mercy of her munificence.

Aveline seemed to sense his discomfort, leaning in and kissing the side of his neck, running her smooth chin across his collarbone. Her hip thrusts intensified, and Martin moaned. "The safety word is..." She breathed, pausing for a moment, as if a thought had just occurred to her. "I have to be honest with you, Martin:" She pulled back, flashing her teeth at him as she swiped her tongue across her lips again. Her hand went to his nuts and she gave them a hard squeeze, they squished in her iron grip. "There is no safety word."

The redhead scooched her rear forward, leaking a line of her juices from her twitching puss up the length of Martin's manhood at the same time she shifted her hips backward. The result was a slow drift up to the tip of him, the weight of her body lessening on Martin's entrapped figure. He stared, watching with part fear, part exhilaration as the divide between his upright dick and Aveline's gaping snatch grew less, and less, and less, until-

"Ungh!" Martin grunted. Aveline did not spare him, spearing herself in a single burst of sexual deviance atop his cock, bottoming out so fast that the Prince felt like he'd had the wind knocked out of him. The change in temperature to his penis was as immediate as it was clenchingly tight. Aveline was nothing if not a maestro of mating, smiling at him as she let out a half-huff from her nose, the only sign that she was as affected as he by the intrusion into her deepest place. Martin felt the tickle of her bum, resting atop his balls as she shifted her waist this way and that, working him around in her to the tune of her shifting thighs.

"You've been relying too long on brute force to get your way around your sexual partners, young master." Aveline said with prim efficiency as she stirred his rod within herself back and forth. Despite her strong affectation of scholarly forbearance, Martin could see the way her eyes lidded, her breath coming out in shorter bursts from her mouth. "I've seen it. All bang and no 'flash,' as it were. Absolute control will always defeat raw talent." She squeezed him on the inside. Her thighs clenched and Martin felt just the tip of his cock grow confined in her innards.

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