The Princess and the Rocking Horse

Are you sitting comfortably? Then I'll begin...

Once upon a time in a land far, far away there lived a very spoiled young princess.

She was the fairest young lady in all the kingdom and had large blue eyes the colour of the evening sky and long, golden hair that spilled over her smooth, pale shoulders. As her mother had died several years earlier and she had no siblings, she was terribly spoiled by her father, the King. He doted on her and gave her everything she wanted. The Princess had never had to lift so much as a finger as her servants met her every whim and need, and as a result she had become listless and bratty. The King lamented that as she already had everything, no gift or act of kindness seemed to bring her joy, her plump, rosebud lips set in a permanent pout.

She was twenty now and it was said that she had little experience with men, perhaps believing that none of her many suitors were ever quite good enough. She should really have been courting some dashing captain or well-bred minor royal, thinking of marriage and eventually providing children to prolong the family line. Indeed, for some time, the King had been searching for the right man, but no matter which Lord or Viscount or Earl that he casually invited to dinner there was always something wrong. Too tall, not tall enough, too talkative, too quiet, faint smell of cabbage, one leg slightly shorter than the other: the excuses flowed from her sweet, pouty lips with well-practiced ease.

And so as her twenty-first birthday approached, and in some desperation at ever finding an exciting gift or more suitable suitor, he decided to give the kingdom's single men one last chance to impress. Come to the castle for a ball to celebrate, he told the young Lords and Majors, the Dukes and Captains, and the man that brings the present most liked by the Princess will be rewarded generously and will accompany her to the summer ball.

And look, here we are at that very day and we find a long line of eligible young bachelors all dressed in their finest clothes, snaking through the castle's great hall, all looking up hopefully at the throne where the Princess sat to the right of the King, looking mildly bored. For no matter what glittering tiara, fabulous dress, exotic perfume or sparkling necklace was laid before her they were dismissed with a bored wave of the hand. Too garish, too old-fashioned, already have one, the Princess would say, barely stifling a yawn as the King and his advisers shook their heads miserably.

Eventually, there was only one man left. Unlike the other suitors who were all young, good-looking and dressed in their best clothes, he appeared older, his posture hunched, and wearing a grubby brown cloak with a hood that cast his wrinkled face in shadow. He was also empty-handed.

"Well now, peasant," the Princess asked. "Have you forgotten to bring a gift?"

"Ah no, your highness, it's just that it's rather big and heavy so I had it brought to your chambers by the guards."

"My chambers? I see, well I think we're done here and we're off to have dinner now, so perhaps I'll look at it later," she said, as she got to her feet and looked over his bowed head towards the huge wooden doors that led to the dining chamber.

"Begging your pardon, ma'am. I've come a long way, I'd be much obliged if perhaps I could show you now, it won't take long," the hunched figure said.

"Oh, very well," she said with an exaggerated sigh.

---

The guards accompanied the odd couple down the long hallways and up narrow winding staircases, their armour rattling noisily, stopping outside when they arrived at the Princess's private chambers, at the very top of the largest of the castle's turrets. It was a large formal room designed for receiving guests with a stone fireplace and imposing oil paintings of her ancestors crowding the walls. It was dimly lit by gas lamps and candles and on the right, a door led to her private bedchamber.

The guards had pushed the chaise longue back towards the window and her writing desk against the other wall to make room for the large object that stood in the middle of the floor covered by a silk sheet.

"Well, come along then," the Princess said, hands on slim hips, tapping her foot impatiently as the strange man fiddled with the sheet. Apparently satisfied, he tugged at the corner and the cover slid off revealing a wooden rocking horse, its front legs stretching forward and its back legs trailing behind as if frozen in mid-gallop.

"Ta da!" he exclaimed, his arms outstretched dramatically at the sight of the large, handsome rocking horse, the rich mahogany polished to a high shine and complete with a leather saddle, reins and stirrups.

"A rocking horse! You brought me a rocking horse!" she exclaimed, instantly regretting humouring the odd little man and wrinkling her perfectly pert nose in disgust. "I'm not eleven, you imbecile!"

"Ah, but your highness, 'tis a very special rocking horse," he said, proudly running a hand along the smooth curve of its flanks. "Please do try, I promise you'll not regret it. It'll just take a minute, then I'll leave you to your banquet and I'll be on me way."

"Oh very well, peasant," she said huffily, running a hand through her blonde locks. "I'll try it for size, but this had better be worth it."

As it was her birthday, she had worn her favourite dress, a knee-length, frost blue satin dress with a neat row of pearl buttons at the front that hugged her willowy figure. Clutching the hem of her skirt and twisting sideways, she perched awkwardly on the burgundy leather saddle.

"Ah, apologies, your ladyship, but to get the full effect I believe it's best if you sit astride the saddle," the man said, wringing his hands nervously.

"Astride the saddle! Like a commoner?"

"Yes, your ladyship, I believe you'll find it much more, erm, satisfying," he insisted, fetching a small stool.

"Oh very well, peasant," she said, huffing in exasperation as she stepped on the stool and swung a leg across the horse. "But this had better be worth it, there's plenty of space in my father's dungeons for those who disappoint."

He stared as she mounted the horse, her skirts riding high, revealing shapely legs clad in white silk stockings then turned away as she fixed him with a steely stare.

"There," she said, settling into the saddle and demurely tugging her skirt down over her knees as she watched him scuttle away with the stool. "Hmm, well you know it is rather comfortable."

He turned and nodded at the rare compliment, watching as she sat up, her posture ramrod straight and proper, hardly surprising given that she had been riding since she was eight and had her own stable of ponies.

"Now then, does it move back and forth?" she said, wriggling her hips.

"Ah, it's been locked for travelling, didn't want it rattling around on the cart on the way 'ere, it took us months to build, you see."

"Hmm," she said, sounding unimpressed. "Well, come along then, unlock it so I can try it properly."

"Well first let's strap your feet in, shall we?"

"Is this really necessary? I am an experienced rider," she said haughtily as he grasped one of her fashionable suede ankle boots and placed it into a leather stirrup, tightening it with a short, sharp tug.

"Well, you're very precious, we wouldn't want you falling off and hurting yourself, the King would have my head," he explained as he strapped in the other foot.

"Yes, he certainly would," the Princess said, her pink lips curling into a sly smile.

The thought of his severed head impaled on a spike by the drawbridge, a surprised expression on his stupid face amused her, and momentarily distracted, she didn't notice him grasp both her slim wrists, drawing them together as he slid them through the loop in the reins and pulled a small leather toggle upwards, so that her wrists were tightly bound together.

"What are you doing? I can't part my wrists," she complained as he adjusted them so that there was only a few inches of slack.

"It's for your own safety, ma'am."

"I don't think I like this," she said, grimly trying to pull her wrists apart but finding them

bound securely. "Come along, let's get on with it, so I can get off."

"Wait, there's one more thing..." he said, his voice suddenly sounding different as he slid his hood back.

She watched with puzzled amusement as he pulled off the thin mask, to reveal a much younger face, with a strong jawline and a shock of blonde hair. He straightened, losing his hunch and drawing himself to his full height as he cast aside his cloak to reveal a smart royal fusiliers uniform, a deep navy blue with its white sash and shiny brass buttons.

"Yes, 'tis I!" he exclaimed dramatically, his voice sounding clear now, with no trace of an accent. "Captain Dickerd! Of the fourth royal fusiliers!"

"Captain Dickhead?" she giggled rudely, watching as he spun around and bowed with a well-practiced grace. "Are you sure we've met?"

"No, it's Captain *Dickerd* and yes, I came to visit many times last year. Remember the pink ballgown I bought you, the walks along the river, the dance at the winter ball?" he said, his strident voice sounding tetchy as it echoed off the stone walls.

"Oh, was that you? Well, I'm sorry, but one meets a lot of people," she said huffily.

"A lot of people,eh?" he said, grinding his perfectly white teeth and she watched as he knelt and removed a thick wooden bolt from the rocking mechanism that sat beneath the horse.

"Yes, so many," she said, as he pushed the horse and it began to rock smoothly.

"I see. And you never replied to any of my letters either."

"Well, one gets so many letters."

"Hmm," he grunted as he placed a hand on the horse's rump and gently kept it moving back and forth in silence before she spoke again.

"It is a well built rocking horse," she conceded, after a short pause.

"Perhaps you remember that time I took you to that jousting tournament?"

"Hmm, possibly."

"Or the time I took you on a barge along the river?"

"Maybe," she answered, as she swayed, the horse moving smoothly on its mechanism. It really was well-built and once it was moving, it only required the occasional push to keep it going.

"All those gifts and days out, and I never even got so much as a kiss on the cheek or a glimpse of ankle," he muttered darkly, leaning over and making sure her ankle booted feet were still tightly strapped in.

"Well, I have had a lot of suitors," she said. "Anyway, this has been quite an enjoyable distraction, but I think that's quite enough now."

"Of course my lady, the mainspring should be fully wound by now anyway."

"Mainspring?"

"Yes, as I said this horse is very special. It has a mechanism hidden inside. As it moves it winds a large mainspring, taken from a grandfather clock."

"Well, that really is fascinating, but I really am rather bored of this now," she said. "So if you could just..."

"But your highness you haven't experienced the best part of this toy yet," he said, his lip curling into a wicked grin.

"Well, I don't think I want to," she said nervously, trying to free her hands and feet but finding them still tightly bound. "Kindly loosen the reins and stirrups, I want to get off."

"Oh, I think we can find a way to help get you off," he said, with a thin smile, as he slid a hand beneath the horse and found the little hidden brass wheel, rotating it with his finger.

"Oh!" the Princess exclaimed, her pink lips forming a perfect "O". "It's vibrating! The saddle's vibrating!"

"Yes, it's a very clever mechanism that I designed. Well, I helped to design with my carpenter. You see when I turn this dial, it causes the mainspring to slowly unwind, and as it does..."

"Yes, well that's fascinating but if you could just..." the Princess said, wriggling anxiously but with hands bound and her feet caught in the stirrups she was unable to gain any purchase, and she found it was impossible to lift herself off the buzzing leather surface.

"And as it does," he continued doggedly. "It spins a wooden wheel, but this wheel isn't weighted evenly. Oh no. It's biased towards one side and so wobbles as it spins. And because of the gearing, it can spin awfully quickly, you see, and that's what makes..."

"The saddle vibrate. Yes, yes, I see, but can we stop now? It's making me feel rather...funny," the Princess interrupted, trying to ignore the indecent pleasure as she felt the saddle throb and hum against her most delicate parts through the thin cotton of her drawers, and regretting not being able to tuck her skirts beneath her.

"But you've only experienced the lowest setting," he said, feigning disappointment.

"See, if I rotate the dial a little more..."

"Oh! No! Stop that at once!" she squealed, the buzzing sound growing louder and she felt her cheeks flush pink as she felt vibration increase and the tingling between her thighs start to transform into a warm wetness.

"My lady, you sound like you're not enjoying my little present," he said, leaning closer as he gently pushed the horse's flank keeping the momentum going, and enjoying the uncomfortable look on her face as she tried to shift her weight and control her emotions.

"Stop this foolishness at once or I shall call the guards and have you thrown in the dungeon!" she insisted.

"Ah yes, about the guards. Now did I mention that the Captain of the guards is an old friend of mine? We went to the same military academy," he said, his finger stroking the thin strap of her satin dress as his other hand eased the dial a little higher. "You know, it turns out they're fed up with your bratty behaviour too."

"Guards! Guards!" she yelled, then failed to suppress a loud moan as she felt the infernal saddle vibrate a little harder still, the warm, molten pleasure spreading from her loins now, becoming ever hotter, the wetness seeping into her drawers as her breathing grew laboured.

"Do you know what they call you behind your back?" he asked, his fingers tracing the delicate curve of her breasts beneath her dress and toying with the little pearl buttons.

"What are you doing? Stop that!" she exclaimed, trying to twist away as he slowly and deliberately unfastened the top button.

"Well, do you?" he asked, as he carefully unfastened the buttons one-by-one as she wriggled helplessly.

"No, stop! Stop that!" she exclaimed, but with her hands bound she was powerless to stop him easing her dress apart and exposing one of her breasts, her bare skin glowing amber in the gaslight. It was small and perfectly rounded, topped with a rose pink nipple.

"They call you Princess Pricktease," he said, easing a wave of blonde locks aside and kissing the smooth skin of her shoulder as he cupped her bare boob, gently caressing it.

"No! You lie!" she exclaimed, although deep in her heart she knew it was probably true. The guards had never liked her.

"Oh yes, Princess Pricktease," he chuckled, his breath warm and moist against her ear. "So I had a word and we all agreed you needed to be taught a lesson. They agreed to give us a little time together, so we could get to know each other properly."

"No, no, don't," she said helplessly, shivering hotly as she felt him draw a thumb across her nipple till it tingled and throbbed like her pussy, feeling it stiffen as she squirmed helplessly. "Please."

"Please, eh? Well, there's a word I reckon doesn't often cross those sweet lips," he whispered as he sucked her earlobe and pulled her dress fully open and eased it down over her shoulders, leaving her topless. "I like the sound of that, say it again."

"Please, Captain Dickerd, stop..." she started to say, her words cut short as he ran a finger along her jawline and gently but firmly grasped her chin, turning her face towards his, his lips silencing her as he drew her into a long, sensual kiss, his lips gently sucking at hers, his eager tongue slipping inside her mouth.

"Mmm, mmm," she moaned into his mouth as the vibration grew stronger, her whole body resonating like a tuning fork and all too aware that only a thin layer of damp, increasingly wet cotton separated her throbbing pussy from the fiercely vibrating saddle.

Eventually their lips parted and she watched as he ran a wet fingertip down over the slope of her breast, lightly circled her rose pink aureola, then played with her nipple till it was as hard as the little pearl buttons of her dress.

"Please, please," the Princess mewed as he gently tugged at her nipple now, slowly rolling it between thumb and forefinger and sending a hot surge of pleasure straight between her molten thighs.

She tried changing her position, leaning forward a little, but it just made things worse, her clit throbbing with the increased vibration. There really was no escape and she knew he was toying with her, enjoying the sounds of her moans rising and falling in pitch as he slowly eased the vibrations down then suddenly back up, drawing a fresh set of breathless moans from her helpless young body.

Losing control of herself in front of this grubby little conman seemed unthinkable, and yet as the vibrations became higher pitched, she felt her wanton hips rocking back and forth uncontrollably, grinding against the infernal saddle, riding the waves of hot pleasure as her body defied her best intentions and chased release from this sweet torture. She groaned as she felt another flush of wetness spilling from her liquid depths as he casually toyed with her diamond hard nipples, strumming them with a wet fingertip.

"No, no, please, have mercy Sir," she moaned, not sure whether she was pleading for him to stop her torment or to bring her to a satisfying climax. Her breathing was reduced to a series of short, ragged gasps now, her head thrown back, her long hair brushing the horse's back, her eyes closed, mouth parted, the hot pressure between her thighs nearing boiling point.

"That's right, give in to the pleasure Princess, don't fight it, just relax and enjoy the ride," he said, his voice sounding as rich and thick as treacle as he tugged at her hair, easing her head back and planted a trail of hot kisses down the gentle curve of her neck, and the pale skin of her cute, apple-sized boobs.

"Oh please, please," she whimpered, as she felt him flick the tip of his tongue over a throbbing nipple, then sucked at it, drawing it inside his warm, wet mouth as his hands pressed hard on the tops of her thighs so that she couldn't get any respite from the devilish saddle. It was all becoming too much, her young body overwhelmed by the intense sensations.

"Don't stop, don't stop, please!" she heard herself beg, her body as coiled and tight as a mainspring as she flew past the point of no return.

"Oh yes, yes!" she squealed joyfully, her back arching, her head thrown back as suddenly she was there, all the slowly building pressure released in one glorious shining moment of pure ecstasy as her emotions unravelled, the divine fire raging through her helpless young body.

Captain Dickerd slid his hand beneath the horse and spun the dial to stop the vibration, and the room was silent apart from the sound of the Princess's breath rasping in her throat. He took a step back, a satisfied smile on his lips as he enjoyed the sight of the arrogant Princess. She was slumped forward, looking defeated, her body spent, her dress pulled open, a blonde curtain of hair covering her face and breasts as she recovered her breath in great sobbing gasps. A few strands of blonde hair clung wetly to her damp forehead.

"Bastard," she said, a defiant expression on her flushed face as he detached the reins from the horse's head, whilst leaving her hands still bound together.

"Not very nice language for a Princess," he chuckled as he released her feet and removed her boots. She watched his biceps bulge beneath his tight uniform as he lifted her onto wobbly legs. "It's almost like you didn't enjoy your present."