Not So Sleeping Beauty Ch. 04

The Queen sat back from her easel. She put a finger to her lips and considered the angle of the final line she was about to ink into being. Her subject lay nervously on the fainting couch. He was staring away into the distance. The view of the castle grounds was spread out below him but he desperately hoped that he could not be seen through the window. His young cheeks were flushed with embarrassment and nervousness. His black hair was cut short to his head and his intelligent brown eyes, those of a puppy dog, twinkled nervously in the light. The pose that the Queen had chosen for him was nonchalant, positive, almost lewd. He held up in his hand a ripe succulent apple as though he was about to take a bite from it. The curve of his arm showed muscles hardened by his work on the stable yard. His chest was hairy with brown nipples and suntanned skin. His hips were thin and strong from the many hours he spent in the saddle each day, his thighs muscular enough to almost ripple in his pose. One of his legs was pulled up and bent at hip and knee. The other hung casually to the floor. His cock, warmed by the sun to be large and full between his legs, lay against his inner thigh. Not erect it was still sizeable and was very pleasant to look at beneath his scraggly patch of black pubic hair. There was further hair between his legs around his lush young scrotum with its balls the size of robins eggs, and back around the tight coming together of his firm young buttocks.

The Queen licked her lips absently as she drew in the loose folds of his foreskin, her eyes moving with not-quite-professional interest from paper to young man and back. She sat back and sighed happily. "There!" She said, setting down the charcoal stick upon the table next to her. "The outline is finished. In a couple of days we will have your young form recorded for all time."

She grinned and winked at the young man. Queen Beatrice had always been quite a dab hand with the paints and easel. She had found that when she married King John the opportunities for her to paint her favourite subject - nudes - had opened up immensely. At first the young men and women of the court had been shy to accept her offers of a portrait. There had been a few minor scandals. Now it was widely accepted to be painted by the Queen. In fact it was considered an honour. The fact was, dear reader, that the Queen was a highly accomplished painter. Her name signed upon the base of a portrait could turn it from a minor masterpiece to a priceless object of art. Twice a year she held viewings of her private

gallery,

where every portrait was framed sympathetically and differently. It took her two weeks to produce each portrait and she never seemed to tire of the pursuit, spending at least four hours each day upon it. If she was asked she would answer "What else is there for a Queen to do? Certainly one could spin. There are many women of the Kingdom who do nothing but this. Spinning and darning and tapestry are for those who wish to copy greatness. I choose to indulge my own inner muse by creating something new and different."

This she accomplished with abandonment. Ask any viewer of her fine portraits of their quality and they could not deny they were the finest that one could ever lay eyes upon. In four months time this young stable lad's parents would be brought in from the countryside and would marvel at the work: the sensitivity of the brush strokes, the eye for proportion, the sheer attention to detail, the depth of color used. It would be impossible for them not to. If she had not been the Queen, Beatrice would have been making a very fine living by selling her skills to the highest bidder.

The streams of stable lads and warriors and blacksmiths and seamstresses and dress makers and brewers that petitioned each year to be painted by the Queen was endless. If any member of the Kingdom was called upon to the Queen's private studio they would drop everything and rush immediately to appear upon the walls of her studio.

Of course the Queen, being a powerful woman who had just hit upon her fortieth year, chose only the best subjects. She waved her hand royally to the eighteen year old lad upon the couch to beckon him over. "Come here and look!" She said. Her eyes were bright and excited as they always were when she painted. As he came to stand next to her he could not help but admire her work. Jim the stable boy had never before seen himself in the flesh but he knew that she had the proportions entirely right.

"W-wow!" He stammered, looking down at the Queen. She was dressed this day in her painting clothes. A black tunic, cut to show the top of her breastbone and the softness of her shoulders, fell to her knees. Her legs were bare underneath this; her feet encased in black court shoes. The swell of her breasts was visible through the thin silken fabric as they rose and fell with her excited breaths. Jim gulped as he realised that she was wearing no hosiery beneath the sheer material, her nipples erect in her obvious excitement.

"I shall paint a shadow across here to accentuate your chest and hips... and here I shall use an ochre brown... and here I shall dab chocolate brown for your eyes... and here I shall place a vase of roses to signify love... and I shall reflect them in your skin right here..." She was talking so happily that Jim was entranced by her beauty. His nervousness at being naked around the Queen died and he felt at ease. As he listened he breathed in her subtle scent of rose. It was not powdery like some cheap tavern wenches but alive and warm; as though someone had dripped dewdrops from a flower straight onto her skin.

What a wonder her skin was. It was soft and smooth. There were small creases at the corners of her eyes but the rest of her face was flawless. She had a small button nose and lips that, unpainted, were a soft curve of welcoming pink. As he looked down Jim realised that he could see somewhat down her tunic. Her breasts were not overly large but widely spaced. As she looked up at him with those sapphire eyes Jim coughed and turned his attention back to the portrait.

"Iiiit... is very f-fine your l-ladyship." Jim had always had a stammer to his voice. In truth he was a bright lad but it took him a long time to come to a conclusion. The stammer allowed him to form his thoughts and lent him a shy charm that had so many chambermaids seeing his company.

"Do you really think so?" Asked the Queen.

"Y-yes." Replied the lad. He then halted. He coughed once more. A soft touch ran along the shaft of his cock and he bit his lip to stifle a groan. The Queen took up talking again as she absent-mindedly ran her cool hand and fingers over his rapidly hardening manhood. Her touch was so brief and light that she almost appeared to not know she was doing it, as though she was fondling the hilt of a table knife while discussing affairs of State with a diplomat. She talked in length about how the composition of this painting was meant to echo that of a painting of some long-dead saint; about how she would be mixing ancient colors using almost forgotten techniques that she had unearthed in a book only last week; about how this may take longer than her other paintings but it would be worth it.

When Jim was fully erect the Queen wrapped her hand around the girth of his penis and pulled back the skin. His foreskin moved back to reveal his giant purple cockhead. She stopped talking about the piece and turned her head to look up at him. Her eyes met with his and she winked girlishly. Her gaze roved over him as though truly seeing him for the first time. Jim gulped. There was an astonishing hunger in those eyes that he had never seen before. He felt his heart pounding in his chest and heard his pulse in his ears. Her eyes stopped upon his dick and her look become one of pure hunger.

What does one say when the Queen of the Realm is standing there looking at your cock like the most experienced whore in the house? What would YOU say dear reader? Jim the stable boy decided to cover his confused excitement with a deep throated groan.

"Most interesting," Commented the Queen. "You are a lot bigger hard than you were soft. Maybe I should paint you with an erect penis. That could certainly be a challenge. I would have to make very close observations." With this she leant in and placed a warm lipped kiss upon the very head of his dick, just where the hole was beginning to leak pre-cum. She licked her lips as though savouring the taste of the finest caviare.

"Mrs... Lady... Q-queen... errr... are you sure this is e-entirely... errr?" Asked poor confused Jim.

"Entirely... what?" Asked the Queen in her regal accent as she gently moved her hand up and down his shaft as though feeling the ripeness of bananas.

"Correct? Y-your husband the K-king?" Jim flushed as red as the roses she was offering to put in his picture.

The Queen still had her eyes crossed on his pole. The corner of her mouth tweaked upwards. "My husband the King is probably screwing one of the maids right now. What do you think we Royals do all day? We do not have to work for our money and after a few years affairs of State become a little dull. We can indulge ourselves especially on a beautiful summers day such as this. If I want a little cock... or a BIG one... well, you ARE one of my SUBJECTS." She said with a commanding tone in her voice.

Jim did not know what to say to that. Instead he moaned as she leaned in and sucked at the head of his cock with her perfect pink lips. "Or are you complaining?" Beatrice said as she leaned back, removing her hand and leaving him lurching in the air.

"N-no!" He cried out despite himself.

"Goooooooood." Moaned the Queen in her low, breathy voice. Her lips - oh her lips! - went tight around the head of his big dick meat and she sucked him with all of her might.

Jim wondered how long he might last. For as most young men Jim had plenty of stamina but very little control. The sheer amazing technique that the Queen was working upon his turgid meat was guaranteed to drive him over the edge very quickly. When she cupped his balls in her hand and squeezed them he flinched, but the warm soft skin of her palm upon his tightly draw up sack sent shivers through his body. The noises that her regal mouth was making upon his cock were so lewd - she sucked and smacked even as she hummed to vibrate his cock. She inched down it until it was all within her clinging oral cavity and his bloated cock head was lodged firmly in her throat. All the while she looked up at him with those big sapphire eyes. She seemed to be begging for his spunk and he felt it burning in his testicles. Jim knew that soon he would end.

Just at the moment when his orgasm was almost upon him Beatrice stood and pulled her painting tunic over her head with a single fluid movement. For a forty year old woman who had given birth to four children her body had been touched very lightly by the ravages of time. Her breasts were large without much sag, perfect pink nipples sitting atop them like jewels on a crown. Her stomach was rounded not to fat but to health and pierced with a gem. Her hips were wide and a little fleshy, as were her thighs. Her pubic triangle was shaved to an arrow head that pointed at her thick dewy lips. She giggled and turned for him, showing him the globes of her fleshy ass that had only just begun to creep down her legs. A freckle, so perfect and brown, dotted the bottom of the left cheek.

Turning back to him the Queen twined her arms around his neck and pushed her voluptuous body against his firm muscular chest. Jim's cock became trapped up between them. His eyes were watering. He could not bring himself to believe quite what was happening. He was about to speak but the Queen silenced him with a kiss. The kiss tasted of his own precum mixed with cherries, and as she pushed her lithe tongue between his lips he decided he did not care a single bit.

His instincts kicked in. They were no longer Queen and loyal subject; neither were they a teenaged man and a woman a couple of years older than his own mother. They were two animals ready to do what animals did when they such a powerful attraction. Picking her up Jim carried Queen Beatrice over to the fainting couch and lay her upon it. Her legs had gone around his waist and their groins ground together, but when he set her down the canny stable lad dived between her thighs. She was already

wet

but he had an urge to rub his face into her Royal juices and play with her clit with his tongue. This he did with great knowledge. The girls who had tutored him to play this kind of game had taught well. Jim's tongue flickered across her horny love bean as he drove his finger into her clinging snatch. The Queen shivered and then squealed loudly, her head folding back over the arm of the couch and her feet settling on his shoulders. Her snatch tasted of rose perfume and warm peaches and her juices dribbled down his chin and wrist. The wetness of the Queen astonished him.

"Oh Jim, my pretty Jim, my stable lad... don't stop! Treat me as a prized stallion would treat his mare. I am yours Jim!" Called out the Queen. She began to move her fleshy hips and his tongue was dragged across her lush valley from clit to hole to asshole and back. Her ass was clean and funky and Jim soon found himself making his way back and forward to enjoy the full delights of her Royal personage.

Just as Beatrice thought she could take no more the lad took his cock in his hand and guided it into her clinging box. She had worked herself back to the peak of sexual perfection after the birth of the Princes and Princesses, and while her cunt was well used it was strong as well. He plunged his girth full deep into it eliciting a wail of passion from her. Beatrice's hands grabbed his buttocks and pulled him in. Her nails scratched his taut young skin. He folded and placed his lips upon her mouth giving her a taste of her own sweet cooze.

Jim could hold back no longer and began to plough the Queen with long hard strokes. Her big soft breasts shook; her eyes rolled back; her heels hooked behind his shoulders; she pulled him in tight to her clinging wetness. Jim hunched his his and fucked into her none the less.

As is ever the case he did not last for long. The stable lad was soon decorating the inside of the Queen with floods of his sticky goodness. He threw back his head and pushed his cock so deep into her that she wondered his bloated balls did not get sucked up inside her as well.

The Queen, a very experienced woman, reached around behind him. With one of her long nails she tickled his tight little asshole to further his orgasm. He collapsed onto her chest with his face resting on her boob and his meat still very much locked inside her.

After a short while of resting Beatrice slipped from under the young man and picked up a wine cup. Spreading her legs and squatting over it she pushed out his cum so that it ran like a waterfall from between her lips. The young man watched in sheer bemusement as she did this. When she had finished she took a cloth and rubbed herself dry, giving him a wry look from her sapphire eyes. "Although that was very fun, Jim, I am not sure my husband would be happy to find that he was to be the father of a baby with black hair and brown eyes. It may raise a few eyebrows around court."

The stable lad blushed and nodded. He was very aware of how odd the situation was and now felt very naked. How did he deal with having just fucked the Queen? What did someone say at a time like that? Instead he sat up and did what many men would do - admire her beauty. The Queen was leaning over the easel with her heavy boobs hanging forward and hair tumbling over her naked shoulders, comparing him now to the figure sketched before her. "You are much more handsome after sex Jim. I shall have to screw this up and start all over again!" Laughing she pulled on her tunic and sat back down to return to work.

***

Beatrice turned and spat into the cup. The white fluid was halfway up the side now. Standing she gave Jim a warm sloppy kiss so that he could taste himself once more in her mouth and then patted him on the ass. The young man did up his trews and left in a confused air.

Laughing low to herself the Queen turned and examined the cup thoughtfully. The magic that she had learned recently was certainly taxing to the body. Jim was a lot more considerate than many of her other young lovers whom had left her sore for days afterwards. Sex Magic was very old and powerful, the ingredients rare and hard to come by. They had to be given freshly each time a spell was to be performed. The first concoction she had learned had been a potion of forgetfulness. This she slipped into a glass of wine and fed to each of her rapacious lovers. By the time he reached the stable yard Jim would remember nothing but a warm fuzzy feeling much akin to that of having been asleep. He would swear that all she had done was to draw him.

The second concoction, spread upon the grapes she had fed him from her naked body, would make his balls grow and fill more swiftly than even the youngest man was capable of. When she fucked him next he would provide enough spunk to fill the goblet entirely. For now though the small amount of fluid would have to do.

Taking the cup Beatrice moved into the private chamber she had found as a teenager within the wall of the studio. It was dark and she lit a single candle before pouring the mixed fluids of herself and the stable boy into a silver dish upon a stone pedestal. She stripped out of her tunic so that she stood naked in the cold of half-dark. Murmuring the words of magic over the bowl she watched within the ink-thick substance as images began to form. Watching the images she idly licked a drop of Jim's slick sperm from the back of her hand where it had splashed.

***

The spell finished. The candle had guttered out and the Queen found herself in complete darkness. Picking up the bowl in both hands she drained it. The thickness of Jim's inky, spent out cum slid down her gullet. Smacking her lips she giggled. At least the stuff tasted good! She made sure she finished it all before going to dress for dinner.