The suggestion for this story came from a redditor. I am not sure if I am doing their idea justice, but I am giving it a try. As much as I liked the idea I have had some trouble trying to bring it into reality.
Though I am taking a break from the Clementina storyline to turn out this three-parter, I will be returning to that horror series once this is done. There is so much more to write there. Clementina has become almost an obsession…
As always, I welcome your thoughts in the comments section. Though I don’t necessarily have the time to reply, I read every single posted comment.
Thank you for reading, and enjoy!
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The Queen’s Prime: A Naughty Fairy Tale
Part 1 of 3
ONCE UPON A TIME, there was a queen from a long line of queens who ruled over a large and prosperous queendom.
Queen Vaginella LXVIII stood in a filmy robe in the window of her chambers and absently watched the party of knights returning from the monthly cockathrice hunt. It had been successful as they were followed by a long trail of wagons piled high with the creatures. The cockathrices were just like the larger, rarer cockatrices except they had three cocks, so by the time they had finished with the third cock the first one was ready to rock again. Their hyperactive libido had led to them overrunning the kingdom, which is why the knights now had monthly cockathrice hunts. Luckily cockathrices were smaller than their cousins, being only about the size of a small pony. Their sex organs were prized as aphrodisiacs, and all their flesh held intense erotic magic. So with plenty of cockathrice by-products to go around, everybody in the queendom was as hard and wet as they wanted, making for a happy queendom. As queen, that’s what Vaginella LXVIII wanted, a happy populace.
The cockathrice hunt was pretty easy, and the queen had accompanied the knights on a few. A male cockathrice was always either looking for a fuck, fucking, or laying around exhausted from too much fucking. The life of the female was the same except for laying eggs – lots of eggs. So most of the time the cockathrices were too busy fucking or sleeping it off (or laying more eggs) to notice the knight slipping up behind them, sword at the ready.
At the head of the procession, Sir Laysalot rode his black-and-white stallion, his armor stained with cockathrice blood. Having been exposed to that much cockathrice blood at once meant he would be hard for the next three days. Which was a good thing for a couple of reasons.
Reason one was Sir Laysalot was Queen’s Prime – meaning, simply, he was the queen’s main fuck. One of the duties of the knights was to satisfy the queen and the living prior queens to make sure that they were happy and produced an heir. The knights were the queen’s personal male harem (and the maids were the female harem for those days when the queen felt like swinging that way). The couple days after a cockathrice hunt, the sex with Laysalot and all the knights – which was always earth-shattering – was even better, guaranteeing multiple sore orifices. A sex position had been named after the beast, called the Cocks-her-thrice where three hard knights would take up position around the queen and satisfy all her main entry points simultaneously. It was a hit across the queendom, especially with Vaginella LXVIII herself.
The other reason having Laysalot jacked up with cockathrice hormones was a good thing was that tomorrow was her daughter’s Priming. Princess Clitoria had turned eighteen just seventeen days ago. Tomorrow was the eighteenth day after her eighteenth birthday. That meant she was to be Primed, in preparation for her ascendance to the throne as Queen Vaginella LXIX one month after her eighteenth birthday.
Priming meant that the current queen and her Prime, Sir Laysalot, would show the Princess how a queen was to be properly satisfied. There was a celebratory banquet tonight – to include lots of cockathrice meat – then a ceremony and the Priming tomorrow, and a festival and bonfire the day after. After the banquet the queen was not allowed to have sex until the Priming tomorrow, so she hoped Laysalot would hurry up here with a couple of his knights ASAP because time was running short and she had been munching cockathrice jerky all afternoon – so she badly needed a little of that Cocks-her-thrice action.
Vaginella gave a quick look in the mirror. She was 37 and her hips were still slim and trim. Her chest was larger than it had been when she was younger, but otherwise she managed to hold onto her youthful body shape pretty well, as most of the queens in the Vaginella line had done. She looked extremely desirable in a thin, almost transparent robe with nothing underneath.
She stepped out onto her balcony as the procession rode by. She waved to them as they passed, being sure the passing knights got a full view of her nude body underneath her thin robe. She was feeling particularly frisky knowing that tomorrow was Clitoria’s Priming.
The knights saluted as they passed, and the queen knew that most of them were saluting inside their codpieces as well. All that cockathrice blood.
She counted seven wagons following the knights, each with a half-dozen cockathrice bodies on them. A good take, hopefully enough to keep the flocks of those horny little freaks under control for another month. When they got too numerous they started fucking pretty much anything that moved, including livestock, domestic dogs, farmers in their fields – pretty much anything. Out of control cockathrices did not lead to a happy queendom.
She sighed returning her mind to the banquet tonight. In a couple of weeks, Princess Clitoria would become Queen Vaginella LXIX, an auspicious number to be sure, but the child was woefully disinterested in all things queenly. She had been a good student in her studies, which was good, but she showed little interest in attending state functions, and the queen was worried she might still be a virgin. That wouldn’t do.
It was Clitoria’s grandmother’s job to check the night before the Priming to make sure she was not a virgin – and to fix that if it was the case.
To have a queen that was barely removed from virginity at the time of her Priming was unheard of. The Priming was usually a fun, dirty, sex lesson – but it was expected the student had done some independent study ahead of time. By the time she had taken the throne, Vaginella had made the rounds through the ranks of the knights (and the maids for that matter) and already knew who she wanted as her Prime. On the other hand, she wasn’t sure if her daughter had lifted even a single codpiece. Casually Vaginella wondered if her daughter might be a lesbian. Personally she was fine with that, as long as she had enough hetero sex to pop out an heir and a backup heir just in case. Her own mother preferred maids to knights, but she had done her duty to the queendom.
Plus Clitoria needed to choose a Prime, soon, before she was installed as queen. How could she choose a Prime if she hadn’t slept with any of the knights?
But, regardless whether the princess was straight, lesbian, or bi, the Priming had to happen. Tradition decreed that at eighteen and one month, the new queen took the throne and the prior queen joined the royal council of the former queens who actually made most of the real decisions.
Almost as if on queue, a knock came on her chamber door and before she could answer it burst open and Princess Clitoria came in. She was dressed in an opaque green velvet full-length dress that reached from a clasp around her neck to the tips of her toes. It even had long sleeves. Except for her face and her hands, the princess’s entire body was covered.
The queen shook her head.
“You can’t be planning on wearing…THAT…tonight, young lady,” she spat, putting as much disdain as she could into “THAT” as she could muster. “You look like a cold mess. You would make a cockathrice go limp in that outfit. I’m almost embarrassed to be seen with you in public dressed like that.”
Clitoria shook her long auburn curls and rolled her eyes, but said nothing. She knew better than to argue when her mother was in a mood like this.
“Now go back to your room right now and put on something more appropriately revealing,” her mother added. “Or I will make you go naked.”
“Mother…please…just because I don’t feel like dressing like a tramp doesn’t mean I will be a poor queen.”
“A tramp?” Vaginella said, lifting her shoulders and chin in indignation. “I’ll have you know your great-grandmother wore out three knights on most nights, and five or more at least once a week. In fact…”
“I know, I know,” Clitoria said. “Knights only go into her chambers in pairs after one died of dehydration due to a series of particularly intense blow jobs. You’ve told me that story a hundred times at least.”
“Furthermore,” Vaginella added, “It is the job of your grandmother to help you dress before your Priming feast and your Priming. I’m sure she had nothing to do with your picking this dress out.”
Clitoria looked at the floor and scuffed nervously.
“I snuck out before she could come by and tell me what to wear,” she said. “I’ve been hiding in the courtyard the past couple of hours.”
“Well, let’s fix that,” said Vaginella, taking her daughter’s hand and dragging her out into the hallway. As she rounded the corner a page appeared before her.
The young page bowed.
“M’lady,” he began. “The honorable Sir Laysalot and two of his comrades send their regards and wish the queen to know they will, please, be up in about fifteen minutes to please the queen, if it pleases the queen to be pleased thusly.”
“It pleases the queen,” Vaginella shot back. “Tell them to get their cocks up here now, because I need to get ready for the banquet and I can’t fuck anyone tonight once the banquet starts.”
“Yes, m’lady.” The page bowed again and darted back down the hallway.
Vaginella continued down the corridor, stopping outside her daughter’s dressing room.
The door stood open. Inside, Vaginella’s mother, Vaginella LXVII was sitting in the princess’s dressing chair, her legs wide open. In front of her, a maid was on her knees with head buried between LXVII’s thighs. LXVII’s head was thrown back and her eyes were closed, lost in the moment.
LXVII was in her mid-fifties, but like most of the Vaginella bloodline, didn’t really start showing middle age until well into their eighties – and usually lived into their 130s or 140s. LXVII looked a lot like Vaginella, except her hips had more of a flare than Vaginella’s. Also, LXVII was a lesbian who had fulfilled her queenly duties but never was really happy as queen. The first thing she had done once Vaginella took over as queen was to get half her head shaved, dye the other half purple, and get a bunch of tattoos, including a huge lambda on the shaved side of her head. She wasn’t butch, and she liked dressing sexy like any other former queen, but she made no bones about preferring the ladies.
Hearing the two enter the room, Clitoria’s grandmother looked up.
“Ah, there you are,” she said as they entered, gesturing for the maid to step aside, which she did. LXVII rose from the chair and made a gentle bow before her daughter and granddaughter. She was wearing a leather corset, no bra, supporting and allowing her soft, 38D breasts to jut free, their silver-dollar, pierced nipples pointing at the sky, still hard and erect from the workout the maid had been providing. She also wore tall black stilletto leather boots but nothing else. Her broad but neatly trimmed bush, much of which was now sticking wetly to her skin, had been dyed in the colors of the rainbow.
Clitoria shook her head as she looked at the multicolored pubic hair.
LXVII smiled.
“Do you like the dye job?” she asked. “I got it just for your Priming.”
“I’m overwhelmed,” Clitoria said, rolling her eyes.
Vaginella spoke up. “My daughter showed up in my room dressed like this,” she said, turning to LXVII. “No daughter of mine is going to her Priming banquet dressed like a virginal nun. If she doesn’t cooperate, she goes naked. Get her properly dressed in something that shows some skin. Now if you will excuse me, I have three rock hard knights on their way to my chambers. Thank you.”
Vaginella scooted from the room, leaving Clitoria alone with her grandmother.
“Your mother means well,” LXVII said, leaning over and putting her arms around Clitoria’s shoulder.
“I know. And I will do my duty, but why does that mean I have to look like a slut to do it.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being sexy. Or with being a virgin,” her grandmother said, pointedly.
“I’m not…” Clitoria started, then met her grandmother’s eyes. “Okay I am, sort of. But I popped my cherry with my hair brush, so technically…”
LXVII shook her head. “Nope, still a virgin.”
“It’s my body! I get to choose!”
“Not any more,” LXVII said. “You belong to the queendom, and you have to produce an heir and a second. Once that’s done, do what you want.”
“I know. I’m not opposed to sex, I just wish I could go at my own pace.”
“I know,” her grandmother said, pulling her to her and giving her a hug. “But your mother is going to lose her shit tomorrow if she gets into the Priming and discovers you are still a virgin.”
“She won’t know. My cherry is gone. It’s your job to confirm this fact and report to my mother that I am not a virgin. The rest I can fake tomorrow.”
“If you’ve never touched another man or woman sexually your mother will know.”
“Crap. Okay, fine, send for a knight. Let’s get this over with.”
LXVII shook her head. “Not that simple. Once your mother turned you over to me, nobody but me is allowed to touch you until your Priming.”
“So the whole virginity test thing – if the Princess fails…”
“It’s up to her hot MILFie lesbian grandmother to set things straight.”
There was a long, uncomfortable pause.
“How do you feel about that idea?” LXVII asked, breaking the silence.
Clitoria stared off into the distance.
“I…don’t know. I’ve never had sex – with a man or a woman – so I have no idea what to feel…”
“I promise I’ll be gentle,” LXVII said.
“Wait a second,” Clitoria interrupted. “You knew I was a virgin, and you knew that if I stayed a virgin you would have to take care of that, and you prefer women. You set this up!”
LXVII shook her head. “My dear, don’t play that game with me. You are the smartest queen we’ve had in many generations. You have read all the laws, you knew the rules. You could have taken care of this before now. You are the one who set this up, not me.”
Clitoria looked into her grandmother’s eyes. She was right. In the end, if anyone had to do the deed, she was glad it had to be LXVII. She and Clitoria had always been close, and though Clitoria didn’t consider herself a lesbian like her grandmother, she had definitely had thoughts about her mother’s mother that were not particularly pure. In fact, when she had popped her cherry with the hairbrush, it had been her grandmother she thought of, since she had no men she had become attached to.
“I guess I was,” Clitoria said. “I have no idea what to do now, though.”
“I can remedy that,” LXVII said. She leaned forward, placing a hand around Clitoria’s neck and pulling her granddaughter’s head forward until their lips met. A shiver ran up Clitoria’s spine as her lips met her grandmother’s soft mouth. Their lips pressed together, parted, then touched again. Clitoria felt LXVII’s mouth part and her tongue slither out, pressing into her mouth, intertwining with her tongue.
Their lips remained locked for a moment, eyes closed. LXVII let her hands roam upwards reaching for the buttons on the front of Clitoria’s dress. Clitoria reached to pull them away but stopped. The only other person to undress her since she was but a child had been her maids, and she was usually standing up with them around her, not lip-locked on the one doing the undressing. She sighed and let her grandmother start working her way down the buttons one at a time.
LXVII made it down to the fifth button then paused, disengaging her lips from her granddaughters and looking down.
“You don’t have a slip or petticoat on under your dress,” she said, matter-of-factly but curiously.
“I thought it might please my mother if I went bare under my dress. I planned on flashing people occasionally, but we never got that far enough in our conversation for me to tell her. As soon as she saw my dress she went berserk, grabbed my arm, and hauled me back to my room.”
“Nice thought, but I don’t think it would have been enough,” LXVII said.
Clitoria shrugged. “Nothing is enough for her.”
Her grandmother nodded and went back to undressing the front of Clitoria’s dress. Finally the gown fell open and LXVII tossed it lightly on the bed and turned to look at her granddaughter who stood nude in front of her.
The girl’s body was thin and lithe with just the slightest hint of a swell of the hips and a small but cute, well-shaped ass. Her breasts were small mounds with high, tiny nipples that were hard after her kissing session with her grandmother. Most of the Vaginella line didn’t develop heavier breasts until they bore their first heir. She had shaved her bush above a puffy but adorable, lobeless slit between her legs.
“You are just the cutest thing ever,” LXVII exclaimed looking her up and down. Clitoria felt a blush creeping up her chest and neck to redden her face.
“You are most kind,” she said.
LXVII approached and kissed her again. This time there was no skin between them and her grandmother’s soft breasts and pierced nipples pressed against Clitoria’s own small mounds. She had never felt another woman’s breasts before – or a man’s for that matter – and her hands naturally slipped up LXVII’s stomach to her chest, resting lightly on the older woman’s breasts, gently squeezing the piercings in her nipples.
The two women intertwined their tongues, kissing, tasting each other deeply.
LXVII softly pulled her face back from her granddaughter’s and guided the younger woman’s face down to her chest. Clitoria softly ran her tongue across her grandmother’s chest, closing her lips on the older woman’s pierced nipples and sucking gently, then tugging lightly on the piercings.
“Does that hurt?” she asked, looking up at her grandmother.
“Not if you are gentle, child,” LXVII responded, and guided Clitoria’s head into the space between her breasts. The younger woman licked the cleavage then traced the swell of LXVII’s left breast back up to the nipple, suckling as a young babe.
LXVII moaned as her daughter’s daughter tasted her nipples. Her wide aureoles hardened, tightened and contracted as the younger woman continued to lick and suck, pulling softly at the piercing as she did so.
The surge of desire and lust that poured through Clitoria was unlike anything she had ever felt before. Her tiny nipples grew even harder, and she could feel the trickling of fluids between her legs. She had been damp with desire before, but never quite like this. She ran a hand down there and when she pulled it away the fingers were sticky and slick with her own dampness.
She turned her attention back to the pierced, soft, fleshy mounds perched just in front of her face. Mounds she had thought of many times before. It wasn’t that she didn’t fantasize about cocks too, but her grandmother was special. She had been more of a mother to Clitoria than her own mother had been. And seeing just how much pleasure LXVII was taking from Clitoria’s amateur attempts at breast-love made Clitoria happy and sent a fresh wave of lust and desire through her body.
She had never known one could feel so aroused.
Just how long Clitoria spent at her grandmother’s bosom neither woman was sure when finally LXVII put her hands around her granddaughter’s face and pulled her away, kissing her forehead, then her lips softly.
Clitoria, still riding the wave of need and desire that had overtaken her, pushed her grandmother back onto the bed, then straddled her waist – her tiny innie of a pussy hovering above her grandmother’s meatier lobes beneath. She leaned down and kissed LXVII on the lips, then pressed her own budding breasts into her grandmother’s face. The older woman moaned and dove in, sucking at the tiny, hard, dartlike nipples. Clitoria knelt on all fours, dangling her chest over the older woman, letting LXVII have her fill. The sensation of soft lips and moist tongue probing the sensitive skin of her chest sent more surges of pleasure and ecstasy through Clitoria, She could feel the warm trickle of her own juices slipping down the inside of her thighs as the soft moans and whispers from her grandmother filled the silent room.
Clitoria groaned as a fresh surge of desire washed over her, almost making her faint.
Her grandmother ran a hand up Clitoria’s thigh, coming to rest on top of the younger girl’s clean shaven pussy. She gently pulled her forward until Clitoria was hovering her slit over her grandmother’s mouth.
“I guess it’s time for your virginity check,” she chuckled, pulling Clitoria’s body down until she could run her tongue up her pussy, softly spreading the lips and licking the tender pink spaces beneath. She sucked and licked as fresh waves of pleasure coursed through Clitoria, making her arch her back and gasp, her small, hard nipples pointing skyward, her auburn tresses casting down her breasts and back. Liquid gushed from between her lips as her grandmother slipped a finger, then two inside of her, reaching forward gently, as if probing for a particular spot.
A lightning bolt shot through Clitoria, a sensation so electric it could be nothing but. She groaned and fell sideways, but her grandmother held on, continuing to stroke a magic spot she had found deep inside Clitoria. The younger woman’s body shook in her very first orgasm.
Spent, exhausted, exhilarated, and still pulsating with pleasure, Clitoria looked over at her grandmother.
“I can certify you are not a virgin,” LXVII said, smiling. She leaned over and shared a long, deep, kiss with her granddaugher, then got up and poured them both glasses of wine.
“So do you know who you want your Prime to be?” she asked as she sat down on the edge of the bed next to Clitoria.
The younger woman shook her head.
“No idea. But I want my Prime to be more than a good fuck, I want him to be someone I respect, someone I trust. I can sleep with any knight I want any time, but my Prime needs to be special.”
“Have you talked to any of the knights?”
Cliltoria shook her head again. “Any time I try to talk to them, they either act nervous or start boasting about their sexual prowess, so no, not really.”
LXVII took a sip of her wine thoughtfully. “You have to decide by the day after tomorrow because you are supposed to announce your Prime at the festival and bonfire.”
“I know, I know,” Clitoria sighed.
“Well, you have at least a couple of days to think on that,” LXVII said, rising and setting her wine aside. “First we need to decide what you’re wearing to the banquet tonight…”
Clitoria reached out to her grandmother and pulled her face to her, planting a kiss on her lips.
“Can’t that wait just a little longer?”
After another romp with her grandmother and a few pieces of cockathrice jerky, Clitoria was more amenable to wearing something a little more daring. In the end, she wore a sheer lace bodysuit and a skirt that only covered the sides and back.
Her mother was pleased and the banquet was a hit, though nobody at the banquet was allowed within five feet of Clitoria except her grandmother.
LXVII brought her back to her room afterwards and helped her out of her costume. The two had eaten enough cockathrice meat that they had a quick 69 before LXVII retired to her chambers and Clitoria fell into a deep slumber.
[TO BE CONTINUED]
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/ma606j/the_queens_prime_a_naughty_fairy_tale_part_1_of_3
Interesting! Can’t wait for the next part.