Naughty Fairy Tales Volume I: A Three Book Collection

What the Queen Wills-2

“Eliot! Yes! f**k!” She writhed on the floor, becoming increasingly incoherent as her moans increased in volume and enthusiasm.

“c*m for me, Amelia, I need you to c*m for me,” he panted and bit her gently on the n****e as he slid his hand down to where their bodies met and rubbed against her clit.

She opened her mouth to say something else, but her voice came out as a desperate whimper. He slammed his swollen member into her faster and harder until her walls convulsed and spasmed around him, sending him over the edge. Stars exploded behind his eyes and he spilled his seed inside her.

“Thank f**k!” His roar shook the pans against the wall.

They lay still for a few minutes as Eliot softened inside her passage and their breath steadied.

Finally, Amelia pushed against Eliot’s chest for him to roll off. “Thank f**k,” she said like a prayer as she looked at him. “That was amazing. You know your brothers are assholes, right? Your only affliction is that you have a truly astounding gift for sex.”

The wooden floor felt cold after laying on Amelia’s warm flesh, but she nestled against him, resting her head on his heaving pectorals.

“I want to believe you,” Eliot breathed, running a hand up and down her smooth thigh. “It’s just hard to believe so much I’ve been told about myself is a lie.”

She played gently with his chest hair. “But do you believe your brothers are capable of lying to you?”

He didn't say anything, just studied the pattern of cobwebs on the ceiling.

“Yes, that's what I thought,” she said softly. She chewed on her lower lip and tilted Eliot's head so he would look at her. “You know I care about you, but I don’t think I’m safe here anymore. Your brothers won't ever forgive me for helping you here. And you can't be around all the time to protect me from both of them.” Her voice was so soft he barely heard her words.

Eliot wanted nothing more than to cling to her, to bury himself into her night after night, finding new ways to make her body keen and shake. But he knew she was right. His brothers were far too short-tempered to be trusted with someone as pure and good as Amelia.

He nodded and rested his head against her breast, listening to the sound of her beating heart one last time.

He had to let her go.

Amelia’s heels clicked on the stone palace hallways. Her arms were a little tired from the morning spent hauling padding down from storage for the Gathering, but at least here she didn’t have to worry about an unwelcome pinch from Mitch’s weaselly hands. Nothing brought down Queen Cassandra’s—may-she-c*m-long-and-hard—ire quicker than s****l advances without consent. The last butler who grabbed a maid’s a*s without her verbal permission got his hands chopped off.

The sound of Amelia’s heels echoed off the arched passageways, bouncing off the stained glass windows depicting scenes of epic heroic lovemaking between historic Crispin kings and queens.

Eliot should see these, Amelia thought to herself as passed a window depicting a stylized portrait of the great King Jayne, his erect c**k so huge it was nearly level with his shoulders. Kneeling men and women filled the bottom of the pane, arms outstretched in worship of his enormous d**k, with tiny jewels of drool dripping from their mouths. If Eliot was here, he’d never believe his shitbag brothers again about women hating big d***s.

Amelia sighed a little, adjusting the overflowing basket of corsets in her arms so the leather and lace bodices didn’t slide off each other. She tried to ignore the pang in her gut when she remembered sweet Eliot left alone with his brothers in that dismal old house. It had been a little over a month since she left, but she missed seeing his face every day. With her gone, he would be stuck with all the chores, and if his brothers’ social schedules suffered because he couldn’t sew a straight seam in leather, she knew Artie wouldn’t hesitate to pound Eliot into the ground.

Her fellow maids hustled past, carrying baskets of toys and costumes for the Gathering, their short uniforms with fluffy skirts barely covering anything, garter-buckled tights and corsets pushing their busts sky-high.

Queen Cassandra—may-she-c*m-long-and-hard—has excellent taste, Amelia thought to herself as the parade of legs and cleavage walked past. The butlers were equally busy in their tight leather vests and skin-tight assless chaps, carrying lamps and covered serving dishes to the various alcoves serving as play rooms for the Gathering.

One particularly fine a*s belonging to a tall valet with black hair who gave her a wink and a tiny shimmy as he walked by. He wasn’t nearly as gorgeous as Eliot, but she obligingly winked back with a tiny smile. She wouldn’t toss that a*s out of bed. The longing in her loins still burned. He was no Eliot. He was no Queen Cassandra either, for that matter.

Amelia had only caught a glimpse of the queen when she first arrived at the palace, but Amelia already felt a little drunk whenever she thought about the queen’s magnificence.

Queen Cassandra was beauty and power personified: tall, polished, her perfectly rounded breasts always tastefully displayed, with her long legs crossed over one knee in perfect poise, and her brown hair spilling down over her statuesque figure like a goddess from storybooks.

Amelia could feel warm dampness spreading across her core as she tried to keep her face composed. The overflowing basket of corsets in her hands threatened to topple over any second, but the brush of lace and satin against her fingertips only fed her fantasies about the queen’s flawless skin under her hands, under her tongue.

It wasn’t just the queen’s beauty that enthralled her. The longer Amelia was at the palace, the more she was impressed with Queen Cassandra’s improvements. Gatherings had always been a staple of Crispin history and culture, but she turned them from meaningless hedonistic s*x parties for the rich to elite soirees open to anyone who could demonstrate skilled s****l prowess. The cultural tradition was now embraced by all levels of society to an unprecedented degree, assisted by the newly-developed STD immunizations as well as fool-proof oral birth control for both men and women.

Oh, if only there was a way to pair Eliot’s amazing c**k with Queen Cassandra’s flawless body...

Amelia was so distracted thinking of the possibilities that she nearly walked into one of the palace security guards making rounds in the hallway. Amelia recognized Lola immediately. She was of Queen Cassandra’s inner circle, her mass of black, winding braids and violet eyes distinguishing her as one of the most memorable members of staff.

“Here, let me help you with that,” Lola said, grabbing two of the corsets off the top of Amelia’s basket before they fell off.

“Thanks,” Amelia mumbled, shaking herself free of a vivid day-dream where Eliot’s c**k filled her mouth while Cassandra’s tongue lapped between her legs.

“So, you all busy getting ready for the Gathering?” Lola said cheerily. The smiling woman held up the two corsets she’d grabbed in front of her. One was a bright blue with yellow ribbons along the front making a crisscross pattern like a Mayfair pole. The other was black leather edged with red lace along the bustle and a long overlapping satin skirt hanging in waves down the back. Lola put the blue and yellow back on top of Amelia’s pile, arranging the stack so it was slightly more stable, then tucked the black lace corset into her guard jacket.

“This one is too good for the masses.” Lola winked at Amelia. When Amelia opened her mouth, Lola held up a metal-gloved hand. “Don’t worry your pretty blonde head. I’ll tell Cassy about this when I see her.” She caught the eye of somebody standing behind Amelia in the hallway and made a tiny wave. As Amelia turned her head to see who Lola was signaling, Lola grabbed her chin and forced her head to continue to look only at Lola’s grinning face.

“So tell me, New Girl, what’s this Gathering about anyway?”

“Umm…” Amelia’s mind raced. Lola’s smooth hand on her chin distracted her. Who is standing behind me? “Queen Cassandra—may-she-c*m-long-and-hard—just concluded successful trade agreements with the kingdom of Magners and we’re celebrating the new boost to the country’s economy?” Her voice rose slightly at the end in a question. Amelia was nearly sure that was the reason for this particular Gathering. It was either that or the successful diplomatic peace treaty with Magners, but she was pretty sure there was a trade agreement involved as well. No nation could rival Crispin for their export of satin, silks, and body augmentation costumes.

Only Queen Cassandra could leverage our talents for designing bustiers and codpieces to increase the gross national product.

Amelia could feel herself getting aroused again. She forced herself to think of Mitch’s lips to cool herself down and keep her face looking professionally friendly at Lola.

“Huh, sounds very impressive,” Lola said dismissively as she started to riffle through the stack of corsets in Amelia’s arms. Amelia could feel her temper rising as a blazing heat in her cheeks.

“It is impressive! Queen Cassandra is the best ruler we’ve had in three centuries!” She snatched the basket away from Lola’s inquisitive hands.

“May-she-c*m-long-and-hard,” Lola added for her, a slight smirk on her face.

“Yes,” Amelia said, deflating. May-she-c*m-long-and-hard. It was the traditional honorific that everyone had to say after the queen‘s name, but today—with Eliot so much on her mind—the words felt more sincere than usual.

The blush Amelia had been trying to keep off her face built and spread as she pictured the queen on her back atop satin sheets, toes curled in intense o****m. This time, the fantasy included Eliot on top of the queen, his d**k spearing the queen’s cunt as Amelia rode the queen’s face and her majesty’s tongue licked at Amelia’s clit.

“Hello? You in there?” Lola waved her hand in front of Amelia’s face. “Did you just have a stroke? Because I can go grab a medic if you just had a stroke.”

“No, no, I was just thinking about somebody who is never going to be invited to the Gathering.” And how his d**k would look pounding into the queen. Probably best not to finish that thought out loud.

“Oh, is he really awful in bed? Because you know the rules of the kingdom. Anyone who knows their way around pleasure spots is eligible for an invitation.” Lola’s eyes glanced behind Amelia so fast Amelia wasn’t sure she saw Lola’s eyes actually move.

“No!” Amelia said quickly. “His body is a miracle. His c**k is the biggest I’ve ever seen and he can do wonders with his tongue. He just has these two wicked brothers who are so jealous of him they keep him under lock and—”

“Name and address. Now,” said a female voice draped like confident silk from behind Amelia’s shoulder. Amelia turned like she was in a trance and found her eyes locked on Queen Cassandra’s—may-she-c*m-long-and-hard—deep chocolate eyes.

Amelia’s mouth moved on its own accord, spilling out Eliot’s name and address in one breath as her eyes roamed the queen’s exquisite face. Queen Cassandra’s heart-shaped face should have looked delicate, but the shapely arch of her nose gave her silhouette a sharp strength. Lines around the edges of her eyes and mouth marked years of care for the kingdom, but her face still held a youthful light.