The Princess and Her Seamstress

Her body grew tense as the pleasure started to ebb throughout it. Now her world abandoned the darkness and she started to focus in upon this sensation alone. It was intense and powerful, singular in a world without sight or sound. It was hot and passionate, feeding into the lust that was nestled within her core.

Sol's hips rocked forward against it and the wand seemed to gauge her desire, growing more intense in its pleasure.

One of Abagail's hands soon rested upon her shoulder, kneading into it gently. She massaged her beloved queen for a moment before allowing her fingers to trail down, moving along her collarbone and towards her breasts. Her final destination was one of Sol's puffy little nipples as she gave it a rough squeeze, causing Sol to gasp and jerk forwards, only restrained by her bondage.

Even without hearing it she knew that Abagail was chuckling, reveling in her torment. This woman was apt at the art of discomfort and seemed to take pleasure in the power that her sinful little post bestowed.

The wand pressed harder against Sol's pussy and grew even more intense, bordering on that dangerous realm of overstimulation. Though thankfully this was stayed for just a moment, allowing Sol to revel in the utmost form of pleasure available to her.

Good little slut...

Those words may not have been spoken but she knew them well, knowing that she must've been quite the sight to behold. A princess bound to a chair with lovebites upon her body and rocking forwards against a wand like she was some kind of desperate whore.

The mental image was enticing, filling her with even more lust.

Sol was approaching the edge, stumbling towards that fabled little point on the horizon where the final pleasure resided. It wouldn't be much longer now. The vibrations were too intense in their relentless treatment. This was the inevitable conclusion and there was nothing that could deny her.

Though apparently, she really should've knocked on a wood. The wand drew away, the torment expertly performed as she was brought right to the brink, allowed to dance upon it before the ceaseless pleasure was robbed from her.

Sol whined softly, feeling drool pooling within her mouth. She groaned and knew that she was making such pathetic noises against the bit currently jammed between her teeth.

Once more, she swore she could hear a phantom voice chuckling.

Soon, Abagail's hands were upon her body, caressing and fondling. She squeezed at all the right places, groped at her breasts, and played with her nipples. Her mouth joined in upon the fray as she planted kisses upon every inch of exposed flesh: stomach, breasts, neck, and shoulder; none were safe from her treatment.

Though these kisses soon took on a more sinister angle as teeth became involved as well. Sol gasped as Abagail nipped at her flesh, gently at first, allowing those sharp canines to be felt across her body. They were a warning and soon followed up on as Abagail sank her teeth firmly into Sol's plush thigh.

The pain was bearable but still drew forth a sharp gasp from the Princess as she struggled against her restraints. She whimpered and could actually feel the rumble of laughter as Abagail shook gently against her thigh.

Sol wished for the wand but got something else as she felt a tongue lap away at her folds, dragging slowly between them. It teased her tender lips but soon parted them as she pushed inside. She gasped as Abagail started to swirl it around, moving with a practiced and seasoned ease. It seemed like nothing could slow it as it moved with such vigour and shameless power.

Abagail was a woman who knew her well. As such, she had no issue with finding all of the little places that garnered the most excitable of reactions. Sol's pleasure mounted with every passing moment and she soon realized that a more tactical response was far more effective than any magic wand could ever hope to be.

Her back arched and she once more felt herself heading towards the edge. She braced herself for disappointment, knowing that it would be just upon the horizon as Abagail had proven. There was no way she'd be allowed to climax, no reality where she'd experience pleasure without an asterisk attached to it.

Yet, with every passing moment and with every movement of Abagail's tongue, Sol grew closer and closer to the brink. She knew that her moans were relentless, hearing them even over the low beat of music.

There was a fire that was kindling inside of her core and it seemed to heighten with every passing moment, growing more and more dire.

When would the shoe drop, when would this all come to its regrettable end?

Surely, this could not continue forever, this could not be the end? Would Abagail truly be kind and allow her to climax without hindrance?

Then it happened, one final lick as the tongue formed a tight little circle inside of her. A thumb reached up and brushed against Sol's clit, tickling it slightly. The twin strokes of pleasure were a powerful combination and knocked Her Majesty over the edge.

Her whole body grew tense and strained against the ceaseless bondage. She shuddered violently and knew that she was panting viciously against the gag, feeling spittle break free and fly forth. The pleasure ebbed throughout her and she felt her juices gush out and splatter against Abagail's face, surely overwhelming her.

Sol's orgasm was long and ceaseless, as she rocked her hips feebly forwards with what little motion she still retained. Surely, there was no way that Abagail could ever hope to enjoy such a large ration of lust. Surely, she would've drowned if she attempted it.

Yet, Abagail remained in place, still licking and lapping, trying to make this last as long as possible. She showed no hint of discomfort, no sense of slowing. Her actions made the orgasm grow even longer and longer, seemingly endless.

It took many moments before it finally slowed. And only then did Abagail finally draw back, smacking her lips together.

Sol breathed heavily against the gag, wheezing for air as she tried to bring some semblance of order to her lust-ridden mind.

Slowly, Abagail stood up and moved around to the back and the chair. Her first action was to remove the headset, carefully placing it aside.

Sol could now hear herself breathing. It sounded wet and desperate from around the gag, feeble and weak, pathetic even. She revelled in such things, loving how overwhelmed she sounded.

Next, Abagail removed the bit, giving Sol a chance to rest her jaw. She hadn't realized the discomfort that had built up until the silicon was gone. There was now a prevalent dull throb in her muscles that didn't seem like it would be abating any time soon.

"How was that?" Abagail asked.

Sol drew in a breath. "That was..." She shook her head. "That was intense and absolutely divine, my love."

"I could tell," Abagail teased. "I don't think I have ever seen an orgasm last that long before. You were... you were quite the sight to behold. I almost wish I would've brought a camera along so I could take some pictures."

The thought of pictures excited Sol, especially when her lewd little mind thought about how those pictures could be used against her. Blackmail was a dark subject but unfortunately her mind had an apt bias towards loving things that weren't strictly ethical.

"You can always take one on your phone if you'd like," Sol whispered.

Abagail snorted. "Oh, I did but... sadly my resolution doesn't do justice in showing off your true beauty."

Sol shivered as she felt Abagail touch her shoulders, massaging into them tenderly. The woman who had put her through the wringer was now caressing her flesh, stroking at her soft skin. It was a strange but pleasant juxtaposition, knowing that both brutality and kindness could come from the same woman.

"You know, I do so enjoy getting to play with my little slut," Abagail teased.

Sol flushed. "I-I'm glad that I meet your standards, Mistress."

"I'm proud of my little girl," Abagail quipped. "I remember when we first started out with our sessions together. You were so new to things and it felt like I had to be so careful with you lest you break. But seeing how you've grown and how depraved you've become it's..." She ran a careful hand down Sol's cheek. "It's nice."

She finally reached up and removed the blinders, placing them aside and allowing Sol to see once again.

The first thing Sol did was look down at herself, flushing as she saw the way that her essence had soaked into the pricy material of her chair. Next, she felt an intense pleasure blossom as she noticed that various marks that had been left behind upon her flesh with little lovebites and teeth marks coating her entire body.

"My gods..." Sol whispered.

Abagail snickered. "Don't worry, most of them will be covered by your dress. Though a few might require some clever use of makeup in order to hide."

She reached out and gripped Sol's hair, yanking back upon it. The Princess gasped as she was snapped back in such a brutish fashion, her poor locks straining under the abuse. Her eyes were wide and frantic, filled with quite a lustful quality.

Abagail leaned forward and drew close to Sol's ear, whispering into it. "Though you and I will know about all those pesky little bruises that are lingering just under your attire. It can be our fun little secret."

"Y-yes Mistress," Sol whispered.

Abagail didn't release her hair and instead bit down upon her ear, sharply digging her teeth into it. Sol gasped and quivered, quaking against the abuse. Her breath came out in terse little puffs, desperate for the pain to let up.

"Gods... I love being a stone-cold bitch with you," Abagail teased as she finally drew away. "I hope you know that."

"I do," Sol whispered, unable to stop herself from letting out a nervous string of strained laughter.

Abagail let go of her hair and knelt behind the chair, starting to work on the various knots that clung to Sol's body. She worked through them slowly but efficiently, pulling them free one after another until they were all undone.

Once Sol was freed, Abagail moved around to the front of the chair and offered her hand.

Sol looked at it and smirked as she took it and carefully got to her feet. Her legs wobbled underneath her but she managed to stay up right, fighting through the fatigue of lovemaking.

"I hope your royal urges have been sated," Abagail said.

Sol nodded. "They are very much sated. Thank you for the assistance in occupying my mind."

Though at the mention of occupying her mind, she suddenly felt the tendrils of her prior anxieties starting to seep back in.

Abagail glanced at her and seemed to pick up on this as well as she placed a hand gently upon Sol's cheek. "Maybe some cuddling will continue to occupy your thoughts for a little while longer?"

She then leaned forwards and planted a tender kiss upon Sol's lips. The kiss worked wonders at taking all of those pesky little worries and pushing them away from her brain, even if the siege was only temporarily lifted.

"Maybe it would," Sol agreed, offering a thin smile. "And I certainly see no harm in trying."

Together they moved towards Sol's bed.

"I uh..." Sol bit her lip. "I hope that these distractions are not taking away from your design or slowing your progress."

"They are slowing it a little," Abagail quipped. "But I only see that as a net benefit as it gives me more of an excuse to spend some time with you."

Sol giggled. "That uh... that is a benefit, yes."

They reached the bed and Sol flopped upon it, sighing in relief as the soft material of her bedding embraced her body. Experiencing such softness after being put through the wringer only made it more obvious how intense things had been.

At the rate they were going, it was going to be hard to one up something like tonight's performance.

Abagail settled down beside her and rolled to face her, placing a hand upon her cheek. "You look beautiful by the way."

"Thank you," Sol whispered, feeling some red enter her complexion.

"I always wonder how a mere mortal like myself got so lucky to have a muse of your calibre," Abagail whispered. She leaned forwards and planted yet another tender kiss upon her cheek before trailing down along her neck. Her hand reached out and caressed at her side. "Why did you pick me?"

"You are skilled at your craft," Sol replied. "And you also have a personality that dwarfs any of your competitors." She smirked. "They curtsy and pledge their honours and follow every protocol ever written but to spend hours and days with a person like that..." She shook her head. "I wish to feel like a normal person sometimes and you do a good job of accomplishing that."

"I'm glad that you think so," Abagail whispered.

Sol rolled over and allowed her lover's hands to wrap around her body, holding her close. She was warm, comforting, an island in the ocean, an oasis in the desert.

Abagail kissed her on the back of the neck. "I am worried though."

"About?" Sol asked.

"You have such an appetite for the depraved and I worry that I am rapidly running out of fresh material to entertain you with," Abagail chided. "I worry that at the rate we're going, you won't be sated until I've committed actual regicide."

Sol snorted. "I think you might be over exaggerating. I am not nearly that depraved."

"You were asking me to pull a plastic bag over your head not even twenty minutes ago," Abagail replied, kissing the back of her neck. "Or did I mishear that?"

"Alright... alright... I might be slightly depraved," Sol chided, giggling to herself. "But it's most unkind of you to point that out." She shook her head. "I promise you that I am nowhere close to tiring of your performances. They are... they are most excellent."

"Most excellent," Abagail parroted. "Then you've helped settle my own anxieties."

"Though..." Sol bit her lip.

Abagail cocked a brow. "Hmm?"

"If you were to pull a plastic bag over my head..." Sol started.

Abagail groaned and buried her face into the crock of Sol's neck.

"Kidding, kidding," Sol replied, giggling to herself. "I have some self-restraint even if I am bad at showing it."

"That is yet to be seen," Abagail grumbled.

Sol smirked. "I love you, Abagail."

"I love you too, Sol," Abagail replied.

For a moment, it seemed like there would be a calm, that her duties were absent from her life for once. For a brief moment, it seemed like domestic bliss might be something that was actually achievable if only for a short duration.

Then there was a firm knock at the chamber door.

Sol groaned and Abagail peeled herself away from her.

"Your Majesty," a courtier bellowed. "I have a dispatch that you must attend to."

"Can I execute him," Sol grumbled.

Abagail snorted. "I have no interest in bedding a tyrant."

"Fine!" Sol exclaimed before standing up and addressing the door. "Give me five minutes! The royal seamstress is still taking my measurements!"