The Black Queen Pt. 01: The Lottery

"Here! Forty-seven!" All at once a cheer went up. Stefan felt the blood drain from his face as he was heartily congratulated by the magistrate and his officials. Then the innkeeper came and clapped him on the back, declaring Stefan to be the finest lad he'd even known. Elizabeth also came before him and bowed her head demurely, looking at him with a new-found interest. The only person absent was Maggie, who had refused to even meet his gaze as she slipped away into the jubilant crowd.

Stefan was escorted back to the inn and pampered in a most humiliating way. Elizabeth waited on him with a smile, and even the stable boy showed him a grudging respect. Of Maggie there was still no sign, but Stefan was too overwhelmed by his sudden fame to give her more than a passing thought.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of activity. Stefan had until the next morning to say his farewells and put his affairs in order, and since he had no affairs to order he spent his time being plied with food and drink and praise from scores of people he had never met before. In the evening he was bathed, groomed, and outfitted with fine new clothes. It wasn't until he retired for the night that he finally had a moment of peace to reflect on his fate.

He had been given the best room in the inn, with a large glass-paned window and a bed made from the finest feather down. After years of living above the stable, the room seemed much too quiet, the bed far too soft. Unable to sleep or even keep himself still, he paced naked back and forth as he let his restless thoughts wander. That he was leaving the inn bothered him very little; that he would very likely never see Elizabeth or Maggie again bothered him very much. He could not even begin to guess what might await him at the Queen's castle. He now imagined the Queen as a toothless hag cackling over a frothy cauldron in some dark, lightning-wreathed tower. He was completely at her mercy. Escape was not even a consideration, for he had heard that the punishment for defying the Lottery was the torture and crucifixion of the winner's entire household.

At last his weariness overcame him, and he fell into bed with a resigned sigh. He was nearly asleep when the door to his room creaked open and Elizabeth entered. He rose to his elbows in surprise, but before he could speak she came over and pressed a finger to his lips, shushing him. As he looked on in disbelief, she began to deftly strip away her clothing, first pulling off her blouse and then her skirt and undergarments until she stood fully naked in the moonlight that fell streaming in through the window. She gathered her hair and placed her hands behind her neck to expose her breasts, which were small and pear-shaped with large puffy nipples. Stefan's bewildered gaze swept downward over her button-like navel to the dark blonde thatch between her slender legs. He thought her very beautiful.

"Do you like what you see?" She whispered, smiling dryly.

Stefan nodded, quite unable to speak. Elizabeth motioned for him to sit up and he obliged. He was painfully aware of his sudden erection as she sat facing him on the bed, her soft hands caressing upward along his thighs until her fingers brushed against the throbbing shaft. He could see the lips of her sex protruding from the little nest of hair between her parted thighs as she teased and toyed with his penis.

Then she encircled his straining flesh with her fingers, stroking lightly up and down along the length of him with one hand as she massaged the bell-like tip. Stefan's body gave a violent shudder as his pleasure abruptly swelled and he ejaculated, squirting his seed out onto her thigh. His face burned with shame, but Elizabeth only smiled and continued to caress him, keeping him fully erect and straining. After a moment she lay back and pulled him over and into her. It was difficult going until she licked her hand and applied the moisture between her legs, and then he was able to enter her fully. Elizabeth's nether lips were large and lush, and the sight of them parting to accept his cock thrilled him beyond measure. Soon he was thrusting into her, a virgin no longer, the moist, silken folds of her womanly sheath both soothing and exciting his eager flesh.

Stefan looked admiringly down at his lover. She lay with her eyes closed, her lips still wearing the thin smile she'd begun with. A tremor jostled her breasts every time he thrust home. He watched his thick manhood slide in and out of her furry cleft, spearing into her again and again. He drank in every detail, not wanting the moment to end. He moved to kiss her but Elizabeth denied him by coolly turning her head. Not sure what else to do, he contented himself with sucking at the skin of her perfumed neck until he was on the verge of erupting once more. As the moment arrived he slid his arms around her, groaning in pleasure as he spent himself into the warm clinging embrace of her womb.

When he was finished, she gently pushed him aside and dressed, leaving just as quietly as she'd arrived. Stefan stretched out on the bed, overcome with a muddled sort of bliss. The experience, while greatly enjoyable, had seemed lacking somehow. He supposed that after all his desperate yearning and fevered, lusty envisionings of what it would be like to bed her, the reality of it was doomed to fall short.

As he felt himself drifting off to sleep, he consoled himself with the thought that at least now he could leave with a lighter heart, and also much-relieved loins as well.

He was awakened again sometime later by the soft bump of his door being shut. His blood began to rise, thinking that Elizabeth had come back. But the shape that appeared in the soft glow of the moonlight was altogether different.

"Maggie?" He strove futilely to conceal his nakedness as she slowly approached his bed. She was dressed in a simple close-fitting dress that revealed a great deal more curves than he'd ever known she had. Her face was pinched in an expression of distress, and she looked at him for a long moment before suddenly falling on him, sobbing angrily and striking him on the chest with balled fists.

Stefan endured her wrath, having no idea what he'd done to deserve it. At length the blows lessened and to his utter amazement she took his hands and began kissing them, murmuring quietly as tears streamed down her cheeks.

"My secret," she whispered as she touched his fingers to her lips, "is tha I'm a everlasting fool fer falling in love with an idiot."

Stefan was struck dumb as she began to rain a soft hail of kisses on his face, covering him from his eyebrows to his chin. He watched as she wriggled awkwardly out of her dress, and before he knew it she was naked atop him, her heavy breasts resting firmly against his chest as she kissed him full on the mouth. The touch of her warm, moist lips seemed finally to break his paralysis, and he took her in his arms and held her tightly as they kissed with mounting passion. He felt his manhood swelling rapidly, nudging upward against the soft curve of her belly.

Without breaking the kiss, Maggie took him in hand and guided him between her thighs. There was a brief resistance, then she gave a plaintive moan and her wet, fleshy tunnel slowly engulfed him until they were joined to the hilt. Stefan gasped as she began to ride him, her lips sealed against his as her body rose and fell. The heat and wetness of her was driving him mad with desire, and incensed, Stefan rolled her onto her back and entered her again smoothly, the plump, juicy lips of her sex clinging to the thickness of his cock as he thrust between them and passed deep into the tight embrace of her body. The hair on her groin was sparse and soft, and he gave her mound a loving caress as they lay joined, thrusting, their mouths seeking each other with a desperate hunger. The strength of her moans and the wild undulations of her hips both surprised and aroused him. He caught one of her nipples in his mouth and drew on it firmly, being rewarded with a sharp gasp and an almost painful tug as Maggie's fingers roughly entwined themselves in his hair. It was everything that his time with Elizabeth hadn't been, vigorous and heated, eager and passionate.

Finally he could hold back no longer and expelled his lust into her with a fury that was nearly agonizing. She answered his passionate groans and kissed him gently as he lay atop her, his body shuddering with the echoes of his climax. They lay side by side for a time, embracing until they fell asleep in each other's arms.

Just before dawn Maggie rose and dressed, seeming once again on the verge of tears. Stefan wanted to say something to comfort her, but he could think of nothing that would. He tried to embrace her but she broke away and vanished through the door. He stared after her, feeling in his heart that he would never see her again. The spots of crimson he discovered on the rumpled bedclothes did little to raise his spirits. He knew enough about lovemaking to guess that Maggie had given him her maidenhead, her innocence. He felt unworthy of such a gift.

Stefan dressed and went downstairs with the fleeting hope that Maggie would be there to see him off. But she was nowhere to be found, and without so much as a backward glance he walked down the steps to the black coach that waited in the street, taking nothing with him but a heavy heart and the clothes on his back.

* * * * *

Somewhere, far away...

The Princess ran in the moonlight, her blonde tresses flowing like spun gold, one arm held across her large pale breasts to keep them from bouncing. She was naked, barefoot, the loose soil of the garden path feeling soft and cool beneath her toes. She could hear the loping paws of the wolves close behind, could feel their hot breath on the back of her legs. Terror quickened her blood as sharp teeth nipped at her ankles. She willed herself to run faster. The wolves were trained for sport and would not attack as long as she kept moving. But if she slowed or fell...

"Run," the Huntress had said. "Run well to please the Queen, or tonight the beasts will feed on royal flesh."

And so, the Princess ran. She ran as fast as her strong young body could carry her along the circuit through the gardens. Four times she circled with the wolves at her heels, and behind them rode the Huntress, half-beast herself behind a leather mask. But on the fifth loop the Princess began to falter, her legs growing weary, her breath coming in ragged gasps until tears stung her eyes and her lungs felt aflame. She stumbled but regained her feet, hearing a warning growl from behind. Her eyes flicked upward toward the Queen's dark tower, wondering if tonight would be the night that her torments were finally put to an end.

The Princess stumbled again and this time her legs were too weak to save her. She fell into the dirt, exhausted, gasping for air as she saw the dark shapes coming for her out of the shadows, their eyes glittering cold in the moonlight. She closed her eyes and waited, promising herself that she would not scream.