Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. another little story based on a role play I did a while ago... Queen's court by Valeska The young peasant girl placed a kiss on each of the queen's slippers. Standing back into position, she humbly lowered her eyes. She was not supposed to look at the queen, but she could see her residing on her throne in a reflection on the perfectly polished marble floor. Slowly the queen stepped down from her throne, circling the peasant girl, with her elaborate royal gown swinging softly like a bell at every of her steps, carefully examining her newest property. She let her fingers strive of the peasant girl's neck, down to her bust. The peasant girl's simple dress felt almost like an insult to the queen's eyes and touch. "Remove that rug." The queen spoke in a commanding, yet almost bored tone. The frightened girl opened her dress and let it slip to the ground, while the queen continued to slowly circle her, observe her and occasionally let her fingers run over different parts of her body. The girl still looked to the ground. She couldn't help but start to shiver, because of the cold air of the court hall, and because of all the stories she had heard about the things happening here. She didn't know if the legends were true. There was no way to know because no girl to be brought in front of the queen ever returned home. "How old are you, my dear?" "22, my lady." The voice of the peasant girl was shaking in fear. She was a beautiful girl, the prettiest of her village. Her face was of soft features, with hazel eyes and long dark hair. Her body was of curvy shapes, and the skin the queen continued to touch was of alabaster tone. "You are well in shape." "I'm glad that I please you, my lady." "You do, my dear." The queen felt her side with her full hand, gripping her more firmly, before letting her hand wonder up again to cup the girl's breasts. The touch of the queen sent a thrill through the girl's body, revealed by a soft gasp. "You like the touch of a woman's hand?" A notion of despise could be heard in the queen's voice. The peasant girl didn't dare to answer. "Look at me." The queen lifted the peasant girl's chin with her finger. "You have pretty eyes." "Thank you, your majesty." The eyes of the queen were ice blue, sending a shiver through anybody who ever dared to look at them. Her elegant face was framed by red hair flowing in soft curls. She could be considered beautiful, but she didn't allow to be regarded this way. She needed to be the queen, not the woman. When in doubt, it is better to be feared than loved. Instead of the comfort that this simple peasant girl would have known if she had been allowed to continue her life in the village, the queen warmed herself on all the beauties and pleasures the palace had to offer. The queen slowly stepped out of her slippers, showing no emotion as she stood with her bare feet on the cold marble floor, looking at the shivering girl in front of her. "Do you only kiss slippers?" Ashamed by her hesitation the peasant girl quickly feel to her knees, kissing each foot lovingly and licking between and over each toe. The queen was pleased with her skill. "You have been well educated. Where do you come from?" "The eastern province, my lady." The peasant girl looked up as she kneeled by the queens feet. "You are a long way from home. Do you know that our customs here are very different from those of the outer provinces?" "I have heard so. But I don't know all the differences yet or how best to avoid offense." "Well, since you are not of noble blood you are bound to serve me. In every way I may desire. So the only offense of yours would be to disobey me." "Never, my lady." "Do you know what I could possibly ask of you?" "Anything, your majesty." "Your body, as I have said, is of very good shape. I might ask you to give it to me for the royal banquet." "Of course, your majesty, I am yours." The peasant girl heard herself say those words before she realized the nature of the queen's request. She began to feel hot and cold all at once as she envisioned the cruelty that the queen spoke out so calmly. But the queen smiled approvingly at the obedient slave to her feet. "Lift your bottom up, as high as you can, with your face to the floor." The peasant girl obeyed at once, her hamstrings straining as she tried to straighten her legs as far as possible, trying to convince the queen of her usefulness beyond a dinner plate by her absolute obedience. "Good my dear, just like that." The queen felt the girl's legs with her hand, further inspecting her bottom and her inner thighs, covered by a warm and soft skin. Excitement started to rise in the peasant girl as the queen continued to explore her. She bit her lips to silence a moan as the queen parted the folds of her sex. As the queen entered her with two fingers she couldn't suppress a gasp anymore, which echoed in the marble court hall. "I feel you like it, don't you?" "Yes, my lady." "You should." The queen pulled her fingers out of the peasant slit, holding them under the nose of the girl. As she breathed in deeply she could smell her musky sweet scent on the queen's fingers, and without a conscious thought she took one of the queen's fingers in her mouth, sucking the thick juice from it, much to the queen's surprise. The queen looked down with amusement on this strange little animal in heat. As she withdraw her fingers she smelled them herself, then licked them, first the finger with the peasant girls saliva, then the other finger still holding the girl's intimate juices. The queen smiled. She knew her aroma would fill up the hall nicely. "Now, what shall I do with you? Your body tells me you would make a perfect roast for a royal banquet. Yet your behavior tells me you would make a perfect slave for the royal bedroom." The peasant girl listened to the always calm but commanding voice of the queen with a blend of hope and panic, as she watched her slowly walking up to her throne again. Taking her rightful place the queen looked down on the girl. Still undecided about her fate she lifted her royal gown just the smallest bit. The girl understood what was asked of her, and that this command may be her last chance for survival, so she instantly crawled beneath the queen's gown, kissing her toes, ankles, knees and thighs before thrusting her tongue between the queen's folds, feverishly trying to please the royal clit. The queen dutifully kept her composure as she felt the pleasure rising up from below her corset, biting her finger to stop herself from moaning. "You're doing well, my dear." The queens voice turned husky as her breathing increased. The girl flicked her tongue enthusiastically while she buried her nose inside the queen's sex, massaging the queen's clit. Trying the hardest to keep her composure as she felt the pleasure rolling through her body, the queen enclosed her legs around the girl and pulled her in deeper. Unable to breathe the girl pushed and thrusted desperately with her tongue inside the queen's passage, hoping to accelerate her satisfaction. It wasn't long until the queen reached her climax, and she let the girl know by flooding her face with all her juices. The queen almost fainted from the restraint of her corset, and her attempt not to show emotion. She bit her finger until it bled. She sunk down on her throne, exhausted and sweating, but still holding the girls face tight in her sex with her legs, flooded with juices but deprived of air. Soon the girl started to struggle for oxygen, but that only made the pleasure build up in the queen again, as the doomed girl involuntarily pleased her with her desperation. The queen held the girl's head in place with her legs as forcefully as she could, even as the girl in her desperate fight for survival was clawing her nails into the queen's thighs. The queen enjoyed the heat of the struggle beneath her gown. She licked her lips at the sight of the girl's trembling legs, the only visible evidence of what was happening. The legs that will soon be served at her table on the royal banquet. The girl coughed and choked against her crotch, her fighting became less as her muscles tensed up. As she felt the struggle to become weaker, the queen's pleasure grew greater. When she reached another climax she let out an inhuman cry that could be heard in the whole palace and beyond. Savoring the moment the queen watched the girl's legs stop twitching. She let her grip go, and the purple faced peasant girl feel lifeless on the marble floor, with blank eyes staring up. After she regained her composure the queen rose from her throne. Slowly circling the now dead body she examined her work. With her naked toes she carefully wiped her juices off the girl's blue lips. The queen smiled at the pretty picture she had drawn today. "Call for the cook." :: end ::