The Queen’s Prime: A Naughty Fairy Tale – Part 2 of 3 [13M3F, oral, humiliation, incest (m/d)(gm/gd)]

Please note – the tag 13M3F refers to the number of sexual actors…

Be sure to read Part 1 first!

I removed the humorous tag because the humor is kind of stretched. Otherwise, the tags are on point.

As always, I welcome your feedback in the comments section. Though I may not have the time to respond, I read every single one.

Thanks for reading. Enjoy!

The Queen’s Prime: A Naughty Fairy Tale

Part 2 of 3

Princess Clitoria awoke to a knocking on the door – or maybe in her head. It was possible that she had too much wine the previous night. The banquet had been fun – and the sex with her grandmother had been awesome – but having to stay several feet away from everyone else kind of stank. So she might have drank a tad too much.

Then she realized she was naked. She cast about her room but found no sign of her clothes.

Yes, she definitely drank a tad too much.

She looked at the clock on the wall. 8:00. Her Priming ceremony was at noon. She still had another four hours, she could get some more rest. She closed her eyes.

The knocking came again, this time she knew for sure it was at the door and completely different from the pound between her ears.

“Who is it?” she croaked in a dry, hungover voice.

“It’s your grandmother. We need to get you ready for your Priming.”

“My Priming isn’t until noon.”

“Which is why we are going to start working on that hangover now.”

“I’m not hungover.”

“You’re not hungover now in the same way you were not a virgin yesterday.”

“You took care of that,” Clitoria giggled, then went and unlocked the door, letting her grandmother in. As soon as the door closed behind her, she leapt into LXVII’s arms. “If you want to help me with my hangover you can give me more of that loving.” She showered her face with kisses, but her grandmother gently pushed her away.

“Not today child,” the older woman said. “It’s your Priming. Nobody has sex with you today except your mother and her Prime.”

“Oh poop,” Clitoria said.

“I don’t think you will find either of them lacking in sexual skills. I doubt you will go to bed tonight unsatisfied.”

“Okay, whatever,” Clitoria pouted, sitting down on the bed.

Another knock came on the door and a maid entered, carrying a steaming mug of something that smelled a little suspect.

“What’s that?” asked Clitoria.

“Just a little herbal tea that should help you perk right up,” LXVII said.

Several cups of tea later, Clitoria was able to stomach some cockathrice sausage and some pastries. The ringing in her head had subsided and she was beginning to feel more human.

“Are you sure we can’t have a quickie before the ceremony?” she asked, not for the first time since her grandmother had come in.

“No, dear,” LXVII said. “Tradition says you are not to have any sex the day of the Priming except at the Priming. You keep asking about more sex, which seems surprising from a girl who was a virgin with little interest in sex 24 hours ago. I think I have created a monster.”

“Maybe. I’m not interested in sex with anyone, just with you. I couldn’t give a darn about my mother or Sir Fucksalot…”

“You mean Sir Laysalot.”

“Yeah,” Clitoria replied with a sneer. “That’s what I said. He’s such a conceited asshole. Almost all the knights are conceited assholes. I hate having to give myself up to one of them.”

“You aren’t giving yourself to them,” LXVII corrected. “They are giving themselves to you.”

“I guess,” Clitoria mumbled and moved to look out the window. “But I still prefer sex with someone I care about than just any random person.”

“Then separate in your mind sex as a duty and sex as a pleasure. That’s how I managed to produce your mother. When doing it as your duty, if you can enjoy it that’s great, but if you don’t, well, it’s just your duty. Then on the other side, there’s having sex with someone you have honest feelings for. You will spend much more of your life on the fun side than you will on the duty side.”

“I guess,” Clitoria repeated. “But right now there is only one person I have honest feelings for when it comes to sex. You.”

“Which is normal when you have only had sex with one person. Trust me, my child, as your experience grows, your potential list of partners will expand as well.”

“I guess,” Clitoria said, for the third time, and the room lapsed into silence.

As the hour of the Priming ceremony approached, Clitoria bathed and donned the purple-and-white robe she was required to wear. Her grandmother wore a similar robe except hers was black-and-purple.

As she was affixing the belt of her robe, LXVII turned to Clitoria.

“I am sure you have read the official documents describing the steps of the Priming ceremony, correct?”

“Sure,” Clitoria said. “All the living queens, and portraits of all the deceased queens, are staged in the assembly hall. You will present me to my mother. She and I will review the knights – though details are sketchy as to what that means – then I give my mother’s Prime my robe, standing naked in front of the assembly. Then the queen would take one of my hands, the Prime would take the other, and we will go into the queen’s chambers for one hour. At the end of the hour, we return to the throne room, the Prime gives me back my robe, the assembly claps, and then everyone disperses to prepare for the festival and bonfire tomorrow. Simple, at least that’s what is in the official ceremony order. The minutes and notes from previous ceremonies are restricted to only the queen and prior queens. I’m not sure why, but I haven’t been able to access them.”

“There is a reason for that,” LXVII said, opening the door to the hallway and taking her granddaughters hand, beginning the walk to the assembly chamber.

“Why is that?”

“You will soon see, but all I am allowed to say is this. As a queen, you are the figurehead. When things go well in the queendom, you are lauded and praised. But when things go bad, you are hated and reviled. You have spent your entire life preparing for the good times, now you are prepared for the bad.”

Clitoria stopped in her tracks. “Are you saying I am to be hurt or humiliated?”

“My dear child,” LXVII said. “We will never hurt you.” She kissed Clitoria on her forehead.

“What about humiliate me?” Clitoria said, still standing stock still.

“Come, my dear, the time is almost here,” LXVII evaded, and pulled Clitoria down the hall.

As they approached the assembly chamber they could hear the chatter inside. LXVII stopped just outside the door and peered inside. Over her shoulder, Clitoria could see her mother, dressed in a bright red robe standing at the far end of the chamber. Beyond her, were several tiers where the queens sat. In the lowest tier were her great-grandmother, Vaginella LXVI (aged 76), her great-great-grandmother LXV (aged 94), and her great-great-great-grandmother LXIV (aged 115). The tiers above them held nude portraits of Queen Vaginellas II through LXIII. At the very topmost tier stood a huge portrait of the queendom’s founder, Vaginella I, in all her naked glory.

They were all here to witness her priming, if not in body at least in spirit. One day she herself would sit here and witness her own daughter be Primed. And someday she would be nothing but another portrait in the tiers as future queens went through the ceremony.

It was a humbling, overwhelming feeling to look on the portraits of the prior queens and know she was next in line. And she remained nervous after her conversation a moment ago with LXVII.

Her mother turned in their direction and saw Clitoria and her grandmother standing in the doorway.

“They’re here,” Vaginella said. “Let’s get started.” She turned and gestured to the page standing by the door. A trumpet sounded, and LXVII took Clitoria’s hand and led her to the floor in the center of the chamber.

When they reached the center, they paused. Vaginella, her scarlet robe cascading around her, approached her daughter. She kissed her once on the forehead, once on each cheek, then one final long, soft kiss on her lips, then turned to the assembly of queens before them.

“My ladies, she is ready,” was all she said.

A trumpet sounded again, and door at the far end of the chamber opened. There were twelve belted knights under the queen, plus one who was Prime. The knights now streamed in, Sir Laysalot in the lead. The knights did not wear metal armor for the ceremony, but were dressed in black robes similar to those that all the rest of the participants in the ceremony wore.

The knights formed a row to the right of the dais where the former queens sat, standing at attention. Having just returned from a cockathrice hunt less than 24 hours before, the knights were at full attention, the front of their robes bulging with their erections from too much exposure to cockathrice blood.

Sir Laysalot turned to Clitoria and held out his hand.

“Give him your robe,” LXVII whispered.

“But I thought we inspected the knights first,” said Clitoria.

“First you give him your robe.”

“That not what the ceremony order says…”

“Is there a problem?” asked Vaginella curtly.

Clitoria turned, about to shoot back a sharp retort, but LXVII interceded.

“No problem, your majesty,” she said. She and Clitoria locked eyes for a moment, then the princess shook her head and unbuckled her belt, allowing her purple robe to open. LXVII pulled it off her shoulders and handed it to Laysalot.

Clitoria now stood nude in front of the assembly. The insults began.

“She’s barely got any ass!” called out LXVI.

“Those titties couldn’t suckle a rat’s babe let alone a future queen!” cried LXIII.

“Is there even a pussy down there? All I see is a notch I couldn’t get even get a screwdriver into! A knight’s cock would split that girl open! And birthing a babe would be the death of her!” shouted LXV.

The insults rained down on Clitoria. She felt her face turning red and tears welling up in her eyes. She turned to LXVII, still standing beside her.

“Ignore them, child. You will face worse as queen.”

“Let the knights at her,” one of the former queens called. “They’ll make a woman out of her.”

At this, Vaginella held up her hand and silence descended on the chamber. She slowly unbuckled her own robe’s belt and pulled off the scarlet raiment. Beneath, she wore red leather thigh-high boots and a dazzling array of body jewelry that almost covered her from her neck to her thighs. Nipple rings, necklaces, armbands, chokers, a net of jewels about her waist, an endless display of gold, silver, and gems. It made Clitoria catch her breath.

Vaginella removed her robe and handed it to Laysalot, who passed both Clitoria’s and her mother’s robes to the page. Vaginella turned to LXVII, who also disrobed and handed her robe to the page as well.

“Are you ready to inspect the knights?” asked Vaginella.

Clitoria was still stinging with the harsh words of her forebears and was staring darts at the dais where they sat, her face beaming defiance even as her cheeks were still wet with tears. LXVII put her arms around her shoulders.

“Pay them no mind,” her grandmother whispered in her ear. “It is their job to humiliate you now, so you may be a stronger queen later. Let it roll off your back. Turn your thoughts to what you are told to do next.”

Clitoria nodded. She turned to her mother.

“I am ready,” she said.

Vaginella took her daughter’s hand and led her to the far end of the line. The first knight in line was young, he looked no more than twenty one or twenty two. He was the newest knight in the kingdom.

Vaginella stood by his side, reached down and unbuckled his robe, pulling it off him and tossing it to the floor behind him. The young knight stood stock still, his eyes facing forward, his arms rigid at his side. His chest muscles were sinewy and hard as he held himself at attention. He looked almost more nervous and uncomfortable than Clitoria. But as with all the knights, his overdose of cockathrice blood the prior day had led to a throbbing erection the moment he got any where near any woman. And the fact that there were now three generations of beautiful women standing in front of him meant he had a large, purple, pulsating cock sticking out in front of him, with a hint of pre-come starting to dribble from the tip.

Vaginella turned to Clitoria.

“Kneel,” she commanded.

“I will not kneel before a knight. They shall kneel before me!” spat back Clitoria.

“For the next twelve days, I am still the queen, and you shall kneel before me when I command you. Now kneel!”

Tears threatened to well up in Clitoria’s eyes, but she fought them back and knelt as she was commanded. Vaginella pulled her naked daughter so that her face was positioned directly in front of the end of the knight’s purple cock. Clitoria felt LXVII’s hand on her shoulder, calming her.

“Knight, state your name,” Vaginella said.

“I am Sir Jonas, Your Majesty” said the knight, his eyes still staring straight ahead.

“Thank you for your service to the queendom, Sir Jonas,” Vaginella said. “You have the honor of being the first to be reviewed by the new queen.”

Vaginella pressed her bejeweled body against the side of the knight, her lips just an inch from his ear, her breasts against his arm, her thigh rubbing the back of his leg. She ran a hand down his chiseled chest, tickling his nipples, then moving past his navel to his pulsating cock.

“Are you ready?” she asked the knight.

“Yes, your Majesty.”

“Very good. Daughter, open your mouth.”

Clitoria wasn’t sure what was about to happen, but she complied, opening her lips. Behind her, LXVII gently guided her face so her open mouth was next to the end of the knight’s cock.

Vaginella ran her hand up the shaft of the knight’s erection, first teasing it lightly with her finger tips. She reached between her legs, moistened her hand with her own arousal, and used that as a lubricant as she stroked the knight’s cock.

The knight’s breath came faster. Dribbles of pre-come slipped from his cock, mixing with the queen’s juices and adding to the slick mixture that coated his member. Clitoria stared nervously at the tip of the cock, seeing the purple head swell, the aperture at the tip expanding, readying to release its burden.

Clitoria watched as the knight’s balls tightened and suddenly a thick shot of pearly semen erupted from the tip and went straight into Clitoria’s mouth. She spat it out and tried to pull back but LXVII held her head tight, preventing her from moving as load after thick load of semen poured over her face.

“Open your mouth,” commanded Vaginella. “And swallow it!”

Clitoria glared at her mother defiantly as come dribbled down her chin and across her small, pert breasts.

“Do as your queen commands!” her mother called. Without taking her eyes off of her mother’s she swallowed and opened her mouth, taking the last couple of pulses from the knight’s cock into her mouth and swallowing them.

Vaginella lifted her hand from the knight’s cock and then turned and kissed him on the lips.

“Thank you sir knight, you are excused,” she said. The knight took his robe and exited the chamber silently, a few drops of semen still dribbling from his cock tip.

“Next knight!” called Vaginella. LXVII guided Clitoria so she was positioned in front of the knight as he disrobed and his thick, veiny shaft hovered in front of her.

“Now, daughter, you know what is expected” Vaginella said. “Do as you have been commanded.”

Vaginella repeated the performance with the next knight. She pressed herself against him, used her own juices to lubricate his cock, and shot his load into Clitoria’s waiting mouth.

Clitoria herself had never felt more humiliated and used. She was taking the names of each of the knights in her head and planning her revenge on them once she was queen. This would not stand. This could not be tolerated. This was not how you treated a queen.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a fresh load of come that poured into her mouth and across her face, a shot hitting her in the eye and making her groan.

One-by-one she made her way down the row of knights, with each one unloosing their load into Clitoria’s mouth. The Princess had no trouble with the taste – she had heard of some girls gagging the first time they tasted come, but she enjoyed the feel of the slick, slimy substance slipping down her throat when she swallowed. She just would have liked it a lot more if she had control over the situation.

Once she was queen, she would show these fuckers. She would make every one of them bow before her and lick every drop of pussy juice from snatch personally, one at a time. They would pay. They would be her sex slaves until the day she died. She cursed each one of them in turn.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the last knight in the line had been satisfied and was dismissed and Clitoria now knelt before Sir Laysalot, her mother’s Prime. Clitoria’s face was coated with a thick layer of creamy juice.

Vaginella sauntered up to stand beside Sir Laysalot.

“Sir Knight, is the queen-to-be ready for the Priming?” she asked.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Sir Laysalot replied. “She has learned her lesson well.”

Sir Laysalot dropped his robe and stood nude before the kneeling Clitoria. Dutifully, she opened her mouth and closed her eyes, hovering in front of Laysalot hard cock, waiting for the onslaught of semen she knew was coming.

“Arise, young Princess Clitoria,” Laysalot intoned.

Clitoria’s eyes popped open and she gazed up at the knight.

“Arise?” she stammered.

Vaginella and LXVII reached under her arms and helped her to her feet. Vaginella pulled her daughter’s face towards hers, bending it slightly forward and slowly licking off the globs of semen that clung to the younger woman’s face. She worked her tongue across Clitoria’s cheeks, her lips, her forehead, her eyes and nose. Then she made her way down her chin, across her neck, and licked the come streamers that had run down the Princess’s small chest and stomach. The queen spent a moment kissing her daughter’s breasts and flicking her tongue across her tiny nipples, before giving Clitoria a long, deep passionate kiss. Their tongues intertwined, the remnants of semen exchanging between their mouths.

Finally Vaginella pulled back, a single streamer of a saliva/semen mixture stretching out between their mouths before breaking and dribbling across their chins.

“Never again, Princess, will anyone treat you that way,” Vaginella said. “But you must always remember, your knights are here to serve you, but you as their queen are here to serve them as well. Do not take their sacrifices lightly. Do you understand?”

Clitoria nodded.

Vaginella turned to LXVII.

“Your Former Majesty. Have you verified the Princess is not a virgin?” Vaginella asked.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” LXVII replied.

“Very good.”

Vaginella turned to the former queens in attendance. “If it pleases the assembly, we will retire to my chambers, to return here in one hour exactly.”

The former queens nodded.

Vaginella then took one of Clitoria’s hands, Sir Laysalot took the other, and they exited the chamber.

Clitoria found she no longer cared that she wore nothing.

When they reached the queen’s chambers, Vaginella poured them all a glass of wine.

“So this is where you teach me how a queen is to be satisfied, correct?” asked Clitoria.

“If you wish,” Laysalot said. “But if left to your own devices, I am sure you will figure out how you want to be satisfied on your own. Every woman is different.”

Vaginella took a sip of her wine.

“Or, if you wish, we can relax for an hour before we go back into the chamber,” she said. “Or we can answer any questions you may have about Primes, or being queen, or anything like that.”

“You seem pretty relaxed, all things considered,” Clitoria said.

“I am relaxed because I wasn’t sure how you would react to that ceremony. The last thing I needed was you to balk. I am ready to turn this whole queen gig over to you, Miss Soon-to-be-Vaginella LXIX. Now that’s done, I can relax. In less than two weeks I join the council and you become the new figurehead.”

Clitoria nodded and turned to Laysalot.

“And you, you give sage advice,” she said. “I had always thought of you as a conceited ass more interested in his sexual prowess than anything else.”

The Prime laughed. “I am a conceited ass, and as Prime, and am most interested in my sexual prowess. And who better than I to tell you that your sexual taste is yours to discover?”

“Well spoken. So tell me,” she said. “How do I choose a Prime. I haven’t selected one yet.”

Vaginella smiled. “You still haven’t made a choice? You could pick someone at random, or you could just continue with the current Prime – though you would have to fight me for him – or you can do something unexpected.”

“Unexpected?” asked Clitoria.

“Did anyone ever tell you how your great-grandmother chose her Prime?”

“Wait, isn’t my great-grandmother the one who killed that guy with her blowjobs?”

“The same. Let me tell you the story…”

And she did. And Clitoria liked the idea, with a couple of modifications to suit her own ends.

The three of them drank the bottle of wine, started another, had a drunk, sloppy threesome. Clitoria and her mother were sharing the second load from Laysalot’s cock when a page arrived. He had been sent to summon them back to the chambers two hours late to finish the ceremony because they had lost track of time.

Clitoria and Vaginella spent the rest of the day wandering the castle and grounds naked and drunk, singing, laughing, and pleasuring each other where ever they chose. It seems that was another tradition that never quite made it into the official ceremony records…

[TO BE CONTINUED]

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/mbs33t/the_queens_prime_a_naughty_fairy_tale_part_2_of_3