The Queen and the Succor Stick

"Do you feel my cunt grabbing your cock?" her voice was low as she strained her interior muscles.

"Yes, I do!" he said excitedly.

"Stay still," Jeena gasped, her fingers firmly on her clit, driving her to the summit. "Feel me cumming! I'm cumming!" Her vagina clamped rhythmically on his cock. She gave him a few seconds to experience that before she leaned forward.

"Fuck me now, cum with me!" she moaned. The way she had him pinned down, all he could do was thrust up into her. That was just what she wanted, and it was all he needed as she felt him spasming as he groaned another eruption.

She could not afford to take much longer with the prince. She bent to kiss his sweet face.

"You can tell your father that I said you could return to use the library," she said. "We can continue the instruction if you wish, but I cannot make promises. Perhaps I will marry you, perhaps not. It will depend in part on how well you do, but there will be other considerations as you know."

With that, she left the dazed lad to his books and the memory of the afternoon.

The royal work of the rest of the day took her mind off Jason. When she finally made it to bed, the queen found the session had left her unsatisfied. As she went over it in her mind, inside her grew a hunger for one, decent orgasm for the day.

It was as if the succor stick had heard her thoughts and called to her. She closed her eyes as her hand, almost beyond her control, reached for it. Touching the fingers to her cheek, she felt hands and lips caress her face and neck. She moved it lower along her body, causing invisible fingers and tongue to massage and lick her breasts.

Focused on the warmth that spread and swelled her nipples, she was unaware of exactly where the other end of the wand was until it tickled her pubic hair. Startled at the sensation, she raised it and opened her eyes. The blunt end was smooth and rounded. The idea of using such an object for pleasure was not unknown to the queen, but it had been unnecessary for many years.

Frustrated that the mood had been broken, Jeena closed her eyes and tried to continue where she had been. She had not formulated a plan when she started, but the instrument had been so satisfying the previous times she used it. Now, the temptation of the other end gnawed at her, and she felt compelled to experience it.

Moving it lower, she pressed it against the split of her vulva, feeling it larger, warmer, and softer than it was in reality. Sliding it up and down sent pleasing shivers through her. Exploring the different sensations, she pressed it here, stroked it there, and even teased her opening with the tip. That last drew a gasp as it felt so much like a throbbing cockhead ready to push inside.

Reflexively, she pulled back from taking that step. Her mind rejected that illusion. She thought to turn the wand around and use the other end as she had before, but the rounded end was tending to her pussy so well, she could not bring herself to switch ends. Guided by her hand or whatever enchanted the device, she teased and pleased herself more and more.

The lower end approached her opening, again and again, each time it was harder to move it away. She circled her clit, but instead of driving her to a peak to relieve the need, it created a greater demand to be filled.

Lust or enchantment finally overcame reluctance, and she angled the wand to enter her vagina. She felt no modest hard stick, but rather a warm, meaty bulb push into her. As it drove deeper, the texture of a veiny shaft followed, parting her stretched tissue. Deeper and deeper it went, and in the back of her mind, Jeena worried that the magical rod might impale her.

It seemed to reach some limit—whether its or hers—and paused, filling her wonderfully. As she knew and desperately hoped it must, it reversed its course until she felt the smooth head on the verge of exiting. Her worry that it might depart was dispelled when it moved inward again.

So it went, each repetition feeling more real and complete. She dared not open her eyes as she raised her knees and felt warm skin brush the inside of her thighs. At the limit of its penetration, a warm body ground against hers. Rational thought had been driven from her brain by desire and fulfillment, alternating with each movement, each exceeding the previous until more seemed inconceivable.

The final illusion would have been a surprise if Jeena had retained any further ability to experience that emotion. Hot breath on her face quickly gave way to a mouth pressed hard against hers. Hungry lips mashed and seeking tongues danced as the pounding grew impossibly fast and hard. Her arms and legs thrashed as she orgasmed and the ecstasy coursed through her body, as real as any lover had ever inspired.

The thrusting became as erratic as her movements, then slowed, lingering at its deepest point, as her cunt continued its milking grip. As the afterglow settled on her, so did the weighty presence of a torso against her. Her arms and legs wrapped around it, and she struggled to keep her curious eyes shut, lest she destroy the magic.

Impending sleep kept her eyes closed.

The morning found her supremely refreshed physically, but profoundly troubled mentally.

As days of indecision stretched into weeks, the queen became more irritable. The choice for her husband had not been resolved by her time with the three princes. Each could be suitable, but none seemed obviously superior. Yet these were the three best options she had discovered from hundreds of suitors over the past few years.

She found herself turning to the succor stick regularly, although not to the degree of that night. The memory of the intensity and realism made her uneasy. The warmth and relaxation of its less intimate use were sufficient to allow her to drift off to sleep.

Efforts to locate her benefactor had been unsuccessful. No one in the city knew the old woman. She might have traveled from any distant hamlet to deliver her gift and return to tell her grandchildren how she had met the queen.

One night, though, even its power was insufficient to give her the respite she needed. In the morning, Jeena felt sick to her stomach and generally out of sorts. She summoned her royal physician. With warm, comforting hands the middle-aged woman examined her.

"Oh!" the sound of the doctor's voice and the surprise on her face caused Jeena to be concerned. Seeming to retrace her steps, she poked and prodded the queen more brusquely than her usual manner, until she stopped with a sigh.

"My queen, I remember the day you were born, and I have cared for you ever since," she seemed to want to put off revealing her diagnosis as long as possible. The queen's facial expression demanded that she continue.

"You are pregnant," she barely whispered.

The news struck like lightning, stunning Jeena for a few seconds before the implications hit her like a roar of thunder. She burst out cackling, frightening the middle-aged woman.

"Do not worry," the queen smiled. "I have been trying to decide which prince to take for a husband, and it seems the decision has been made for me."

"Who is it?" blurted the doctor, her curiosity overriding her usual decorum.

"I don't know!" chortled the queen. "It could be any of the three. But," she giggled, "they are different enough that my baby will make it clear."

Indeed, the infant would certainly show traits of the bronze Ricardo, the ebon Geoffrey, or the pale Jason.

As the months proceeded, the circle of people aware of the queen's condition slowly grew. Jeena continued her tutelage of Jason, so he first became aware of her condition. In the fall, she separately summoned her other two suitors and informed them of the situation. All three were happy to be finalists in the unorthodox lottery.

Through the winter, it was easier to keep the queen out of sight or, when visible, swathed in bulky clothes of the season. There were rumors, of course, but optimistic ones, since the arrival of an heir would be celebrated.

What women endure during pregnancy is not the stuff of fairy tales. As the queen fulfilled her duties, it seemed each week invented a new kind of discomfort. She put her soothing wand to good use regularly, from her tender breasts to her swollen feet.

Although her expanding belly eliminated her opportunities for encounters with potential partners, it did not erase the desire for the rewards of such encounters. Sometimes she felt it increased it. She found herself using the magic fingers to satisfy those urges as well.

Only a few times did she dare to apply the base of the wand to her needy flesh. When she did, the feelings were so realistic and intense that she would yank it away, afraid she would be overwhelmed again as she had been that night.

When spring melted the snow, Jeena decided it was time for her people to know the truth or at least some of it. A proclamation of the pending birth was made, and the promise to introduce the prince she had taken for her husband at the same time added to the excitement.

As the day approached, Jeena declared Jason ready for fatherhood and husbandhood, if that was his luck. Ricardo and Geoffrey arrived secretly and were appropriately ensconced.

Jeena was ready to greet her child and be rid of the many annoyances of pregnancy, but the days continued to count up. Without real expectation, she lamented to her physician, "If only there were a way to speed things along."

"My queen," her doctor slowly shook her head, "some say that the attentions of a husband can help bring the child forth. But who would you choose for such duty?"

Jeena knew she could not ask for such assistance. As willing as each had been to participate in this adventure, it would be cruel to anyone except the true father, who could not yet be known.

That night, the exhaustion of the day and the prospect of yet more days, drove the queen to consider the blunt end of the wand. Lying on her left side, it was awkward to reach past her swollen belly to where she wanted to apply it. Bending her right leg, she gingerly touched it to her vulva from behind.

Whether it was her cautious approach or the enchantment of the wand, it somehow sensed the dimensions of her need, moderating the intensity of the earlier session.

As before, the smooth hard rod became warm and soft. Moment by moment, the illusion became more real. Warm skin pressed against her buttocks and back. A strong arm moved sensitive fingers across her distended belly. Splayed wide, they seemed to seek the new life growing inside.

She felt her child stir within her and reflexively let go of the wand to reach for her abdomen. Her hand encountered not the smooth swell of her body, but the back of a strong hand. Spreading her fingers to touch between his, they shared communion with her baby.

Propped between her legs, the device continued to work its magic. Jeena surrendered to the experience of a complete man: the hairy strength of his legs against hers; the heat of his breath on her ears and neck; the roaming exploration of his fingers stimulating and soothing from her chest to her crotch; the meaty firmness of a cockhead teasing her opening.

There was no explicit thought of her doctor's advice, as her brain was too busy processing feelings to do any analysis. She dared not think, lest reality banish the wonderful hallucination. Her body knew what it wanted, and she let it decide what to do.

Fingers, it didn't matter whose, on her tender swollen nipples, spread warmth that satisfied yet increased her desire. A familiar, but too long absent, tingling grew between her legs. The elixir of excitement spread throughout her body, relieving all the accumulated discomforts, making her feel light and glowing with energy.

Only one element seemed missing from the feeling of perfection, and Jeena's pussy knew what it was. Shifting her hips backward, she felt her flesh welcome it inside her. It made no sense not to call it a cock, for as a cock it felt and moved. She could not even wonder under whose control and to fulfill whose need it slid in and out. Her soft moans grew as it began to satisfy some of hers.

It drove her forward as on a switchback road up a steep mountain, occasionally giving hints of the view from the top, then turning back before winding around to be on a yet higher level. The queen continued with no urgency, the thrill and anticipation she had not experienced in so long were enough.

Jeena was content to linger near the summit, enjoying the feeling of excitement and the embrace of her unseen comforter. His gentle prodding eventually persuaded her to exert herself and sprint the remaining distance. As if emerging from the shade into bright sunshine, she let the warm ecstasy wash over her, laughing and dancing and twirling in it. Her partner responded in kind, his invisible pressure, rhythm, and grasp communicating a joint revelry. The mutual culmination traded intensity for duration; the feeling of delight lingered and merged into dreams.

As usual, after using the succor stick, the queen awoke in grand spirits with no memory of how it returned to its now permanent spot on her nightstand. Once the fog of sleep had dissipated, however, she noticed an annoyance between her legs. Apparently, she had peed the bed again, one more bedevilment that she would be happy to be rid of.

The attendant helping to tidy her up looked shocked, then shouted to her cohort, "Call the physician!"

The words were scarcely out of her mouth when Jeena felt the pain wrap her abdomen. Seeing the queen's distress, the woman abandoned her task and moved to comfort the mother-to-be.

It took mere moments for the doctor to evaluate the situation as she rushed into the room. "It is time," she announced, igniting a well-rehearsed flurry of activity that the queen, immersed in the first pangs of labor, hardly noticed. She found herself on a strange couch she had not seen before, yet it seemed to fit her exact needs. On and covered by fresh sheets, clean and dry for the moment, Jeena looked at the excited faces around her and felt excited herself.

Of course, babies do not pop out on a schedule, and there were hours of pain and exertion endured. The mothers in the room whispered their own stories out of earshot of the queen, but over nine months, she had already heard them. It was well past sunset when things proceeded.

When the baby was finally delivered, the sore and exhausted queen looked down and saw the pale infant. Jason, she thought, and other eyes in the room did the same calculation.

A wail emerged from the tiny bundle as the physician presented it to the new mother, smiling to reassure her that the crying was a good sign. Jeena, totally taken with her new child, hardly noticed the loud crash in the corner of the room, followed by shouts and cries.

"Guards! How did you get in here? Guards! Don't move!" a cacophony of voices screamed. The women moved to protect the queen as the two guards entered. They had expected to spend the day watching the women come and go. Now they confronted a naked man in the queen's bedroom.

"My queen!" the stranger's voice rang out, silencing the room. Jeena did not want to take her eyes off her baby, but as the women parted to give her a view of the man, she felt compelled to.

Bowing as best he could with two guards almost lifting him off his feet with their vise-like holds on his arms, he pleaded, "You know me." Jeena's weary eyes looked at his face but saw nothing familiar.

He spoke, but it did not register. "The curse has been broken. It is a long story, but you have known me these last nine months." Jeena's eyes and ears were captured by the wailing newborn in her arms.

An officer had entered the room. At his gesture, the guards dragged the man toward the door.

"Please," the man begged, knowing his fate if the queen would not intervene. "Let me prove it."

"Bring him here," the queen's tired voice still commanded. She would dispense with this interruption so she could focus on her baby. The guards led him to the foot of the bed so she could see him clearly. Still, she knew him not.

Without calling attention to it, despite the guards' grip on his upper arm, he managed to extend his lower arm to touch the queen's foot with his fingers. He gently scratched the sole of her foot.

Startled by the sensation, she looked to where he touched her. The guards reacted, pulling him away.

"Wait," Jeena tried to assemble the puzzle in her mind. "Let him continue."

The guards inched him forward until he could resume his massage.

"The old woman gave me to you. The first night, I soothed the itch in your feet," he paused, glancing at the room full of people.

The queen blushed, then smiled and nodded at the man, acknowledging his discretion not to go further with his story.

"I do know this man," she announced, and the room gave a collective gasp. To the officer, she said, "He is my guest. Get him some clothes and attend to his needs. I will see him in the morning."

The guards only slightly loosened their hold as they escorted the stranger away. With the intrusion resolved, the doctor resumed command of the room, and the women restored it to order so that mother and child could rest and bond and begin to feed. The broken nightstand was removed and, of course, the succor stick was nowhere to be found.

In the morning, as the infant slept, the queen met the stranger in her anteroom. She ate her breakfast as he told his story, filling in pieces she had not yet concluded on her own.

His name was Thurgood, crown prince of Paleoland. Jeena recalled Jason's telling of the history. A witch had demanded that he give her a child and he refused. She enchanted him into the device, keeping him with her in her hut in a remote area until he fulfilled her demand.

Many years the witch used him in her attempts—he shuddered at the memory—but he resisted. One day, she went out but did not return. He was alone for unknown years as the hut fell to ruin around him.

A young girl found him—or found the odd stick—when she was exploring the decayed hovel. She never knew the potential of it, keeping it as a memento of her younger days when she could wander about and find such things. Only when she grew old did she discover its potential to soothe, and had used it sparingly.

It was her generosity that brought him to the queen. Both Jeena and Thurgood had strong memories of their interactions, so there was no reason to recount them.

"The curse," he explained what he had figured out, "must have been broken by the birth of my child. The witch could not have known that someone else would be the mother."

In the light of day, Jeena could see and feel the truth of it. Jason was not the father, although perhaps he would be a distant cousin to the baby. The mention of fatherhood reminded Jeena of the waiting princes. No doubt, rumors would have reached Ricardo and Geoffrey of their failure, as well as Jason of his presumed success. She summoned all three.

"You and Jason will have a lot to learn from each other," she smiled as they awaited their arrival. "I suspect he will be happier to meet you than he would have been to marry me. You and I have much to decide and explain."

The queen suddenly realized that she was taking a lot for granted. "In fact, I don't even know if you—"

Queen Jeena's voice was muffled by Prince Thurgood's mouth on hers, as he gave her their first true kiss. No one dared interrupt the pair as each grew better acquainted with the other's face. Even the three princes stood quietly when they arrived, exchanging puzzled glances.

Only the sound of the new heir's waking cry roused them to their parental duties.