Title: The Princess who Wouldn't Laugh
Author: oosh
Keywords: FF,FFF,lesbian,pastiche,humor,humour

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The Princess who Wouldn't Laugh

by oosh

25 April 2000

"Oyez, oyez!" proclaimed the crier from his turret. "Be it known that Our
Illustrious Majesty hath this day decreed, in this land and throughout the
earth, that the hand of Her Illustrious Highness the Princess Rosa is to be
won by whichever suitor can, ere the new moon, cause Her Illustrious
Highness to laugh before the Court."

I remained not there to hear the rest - it was mere lawyers' stuff anyway.
No, after two years of rejected suitors and broken engagements, the King's
desire to establish the succession was becoming an ever more desperate
concern - as was the gloomy, depressed demeanour of his only child. Beside
one or two confidantes at Court, only I, the Scholar, had any secret
understanding of this delicate affair of state; and now the time had come
for me to make use of my secret knowledge. And my heart leaped within me.

Now, thought I, the opportunity is mine: if what they say be true, the
wit of Reason can devise a stratagem, and the power of Reason carry it
through.

* * *

"Make a way for the learned Doctor! Make a way, there!" cried the pages as I
made my way calmly into the Court. Despite my youth, my learning commanded
the respect of the courtiers; and besides, there were several here whose
wives I had treated, and who had reason to be grateful - and respectful.
Others, perhaps, deferred to me out of mere astonishment: for I had not set
foot here since the death of Her Illustrious Majesty Queen Katherine some
three years ago. To my great grief and that of the nation, and to the bitter
disappoinment of His Illustrious Majesty, it had been beyond even my skills to
save her. Since that sad day, I had thought it prudent to stay away.

Gradually a silence fell, as we took our places; and then, as the doors at
the back of the Great Hall were opened, we fell to our knees, as is the custom
here.

Magnificent despite his evident infirmity, a huge man, regal indeed, His
Illustrious Majesty came forward and settled on the throne. Rheumy of eye
and ruddy of nose, his unhealthily flushed countenance betrayed the ravages
of luxury to my medical eye. If only my ruse were successful, I should soon
have the entire kingdom in my power. Anxiously, I fingered my moustache,
seeking reassurance. It was not much, really, but here in the dim light it
would surely help me in my stratagem.

And then mine eyes did light on Rosa, for the first time in three years.
Always a beautiful child, she was incomparably beautiful now. Lovely,
learned, spoiled and self-indulgent, nevertheless she had my heart; I craved
happiness in her arms, and hers in mine. It was for her, and not out of a
quest for power, that I was in the Great Hall today. Seeing me, her lovely
eyes went wide; and her sweet mouth tightened into a hard, tight line. She
remembered me, then, even if she did not love me; that would come later. Of
that I was sure.

"So, the Scholar!" barked His Illustrious Majesty, his voice cold. "We are
to assume, are we, that having poisoned half our subjects with thy draughts
and simples, thou art come with some remedy for that great sadness that all
thy craft could not prevent?"

I bowed low and, making my voice as deep and sonorous as I could, murmured
"As it pleaseth Your Majesty."

Then, in a gentler voice, perhaps more kindly, "We hope thou mayest, Scholar;
we hope thou mayest. There are but two others who come two days hence to woo
our dear daughter."

"May it please Your Illustrious Majesty, I have but two small requests," I
faltered.

"Requests?" He sat up a little sharply at this, his eyes glittering.
"Requests?" I must needs be careful.

"If it please you, I desire that a small desk be set up here, upon which I may
place these three flasks," said I, drawing forth from my tunic a leather
purse.

I believe His Majesty was a little intrigued at this request, for his
eyebrow rose a little; and after a moment, he gave a nod. In the silence of
the court, I could hear the sliding of the servants' boots upon the
flagstones. When the desk was set up before me, I set out the three small
flasks.  These I had of course prepared for this purpose, and were carefully
labelled in the apothecary's manner: "Liq. Sap. - Liq. Ora. - Liq. Nect." It
mattered little what was upon the label, so long as it carried conviction:
in each I had made a pleasant decoction, sweetened with honey, for I guessed
that Her Illustrious Highness, the lovely Rosa, had a sweet tooth.

His Majesty regarded the three vials from beneath a suspicious brow for some
moments; but I could see that despite himself, he was impressed.

"There was another request?"

"Yes, if it please Your Illustrious Majesty."

"Speak, Scholar."

"As a medical man, I ask permission to examine Her Most Illustrious
Highness - purely to verify that her sad condition is not brought about by
some bodily complaint."

I could see that my boldness was displeasing to His Majesty, but I
continued,

"I would of course conduct mine examination in the presence of Her Illustrious
Highness's most trusted maidservant, that there be no fear of any
impropriety."

The King turned to his daughter, the ruddiness of his countenance in marked
contrast to her chalky pallor; his brow a bushy forest, while hers was a
calligrapher's mark on fine china; his eyes red and angry, while hers were
wide, innocent, cool. Her face betrayed no fear, no reluctance, no emotion
whatsoever. He looked down again at me. I wondered if he suspected how vital
to my plan this examination was. Fortunately, whether on the strength of my
reputation or because of mine honest, fearless, professional manner, his eye
softened.

"Go thou to the Royal Apartment at moonrise: thou shalt be awaited," he
pronounced; and then they stood, and the audience was over.

Five minutes later, I was standing against the outside wall of the castle,
gasping with relief, fairly confident now of my success.

* * *

At the appointed hour, I presented myself at the outer door, two guards at 
my back. As I had hoped, dear Goody Watts was there to admit me - me, the 
only man not a priest who would ever be permitted within the Princess's 
apartment, and that because of my medical skill.

"Oh, Scholar, thou art welcome!" she breathed as I pressed her to the wall.
Despite my heavy tunic and my necessary bindings, I could feel her
magnificent breasts against mine own as I rapidly unlaced her blouse.

"I have not examined thee these three years, woman!" I whispered; "Come, let
us see if these twin beauties are still as healthy as ever..."

I listened to her breathing as I palpated them, and then, with one finger,
delicately teased her nipples to hardness, listening to her breathing,
seeing her eyes huge and moist in the gloom of the passageway.

"There, there, dear Sarah, there is no call to stand upon tiptoe," I
crooned into her ear, and she clawed at my shoulders and gasped as, with all
my skill, I rolled and stretched her sensitive teats, murmuring sweet
nothings into her ear until at length, with a violent tremor, she found her
release.

"There, there, now," I breathed, stroking her hair as she clung to me, "thou
may'st be sure I shall not leave thee needy this fine night, dearest Sarah
Watts. Now compose thyself, dear, and bring me to her."

* * *

Whether it was because of the many steps, or because of her continued 
arousal, Goody Watts seemed breathless as we entered the Royal Chamber. Lit 
by many beeswax candles, it was a spectacle of magnificent opulence: there 
were two fine, stout oaken chests, two elegant French chairs, a boudoir 
table elaborately inlaid, and a looking-glass the like of which I had never 
seen, that reflected truer than water on a still day. The bed was heavily 
canopied for warmth, of course, with embroidered cloth of pale yellow and 
blue; yet it seemed lighter built than most, made of some very hard, dark 
wood the like of which I had not seen before. Upon the floor, a carpet from 
the east, red and luminous with fantastic designs in many colours; and in 
the window, a casement of clear glass.

But all this magnificence was as nothing to the perfect jewel who stood
before me now, smiling with ironic disdain, wise and clever beyond her
eighteen years.  And if she had seemed beautiful during the audience, with
her hair exquisitely braided about her head like a lustrous red-gold cap,
now as it fell free about her shoulders, her beauty rendered me momentarily
speechless. I have seen such fine hair on many women, but never with such
flawless clarity of skin, such boldness of eye, such fineness of feature.
And oh! The perfect precision of that exquisite, cruel little mouth, the
delectable downward ironic twist as she spoke!

"So, Scholar, thou'rt come to poke and prod at the merchandise."

"Fair Princess Rosa," I began, trying to make my voice as gravelly as I
could, "I am come merely to make certain, as a man of science, that your
mournful humour is not the result of some physical malady."

Goody Watts took my cap and set it down on an oaken chest.

"A man of science? Thou art young, and fair, to be a man of science. This
moustache of thine -" she drew her finger insolently over my lip, then laid
it for a moment like a seal over my mouth - "it is the merest fluff. How old
art thou, pretty lad of science?"

Her voice was sweet, bitter-sweet with irony.

"Old enough," I replied with difficulty, once she had withdrawn the delicate
finger, "and now, if it please Your Highness, I should like the room made as
warm as possible for your comfort, so that we may proceed."

She gave a delightful shrug then, and turned to nod to Goody Watts.

"Build the fire up, there, Sarah," she said lightly, and at once Goody Watts
was building and poking the fire into a blaze. Then, turning slightly and
looking over her shoulder, so that I should be entranced by the curl of those
wonderful sandy eyelashes, and the sideways glance of her eye through her
hair, "dost thou desire me naked, then, fair doctor?"

"It will be more expeditious, Your Highness. I assure you that the process is
entirely painless."

"I have no doubt," she said, with another mocking twitch of that delicious
mouth. With her back to me, then, she untied the ribbons on her simple white
gown, and with a single fluid movement sloughed it to the floor, turned and
cast herself upon the bed like a bird alighting on the sward. By some mechanism
I did not then understand, the bed appeared resilient, and bounced beneath
her gentle weight.

"Well?" she said, the irony still heavy in her voice, "Art thou disappointed?
Didst thou expect maidenly modesty?"

In truth, she had no need of it. Never had I seen such grace, such
perfection in proportion, such exquisite limbs, such elegant curves. It was
as much as I could do to keep the tremor from my voice.

"The Almighty has indeed been generous to you, fair Princess. Such beauty is
almost beyond the worship of mortal tongue."

"Almost?"

"Now see these hands, sweet Princess Rosa."

"Ah!" The Princess sounded surprised. "They're like a woman's hands!"

"Yes. My fingers are fine and sensitive. There is healing in my touch."

"Ahh!"

"Dost thou feel the warmth going into thee?"

Slowly, surely, she was falling under my spell. She did not notice as I
slipped into the familiar form of speech. Carefully I stroked along her
arms, soothing her; my gaze wavered not, and as she looked into it, her will
to resist did falter and slip away.

"O! What art thou doing?" said she, softly, turning her head.

"This is merely to prevent thy disturbing mine hands as I proceed with mine
examination," said I smoothly as I tied her wrists securely to the bed-post.

She was crying "O!" and calling upon the Almighty already, and I was merely
stroking her upper arms gently with my fingertips, gradually approaching the
sensitive hollows beside her sweet breasts.

"O Lord and Saviour!" she cried, "Is this how thou mean'st to make me laugh!"

I let her rest for a moment. "I hear thy plaint, lovely Princess, but thy
darling teats stand witness to some quite different emotion."

I pleasured her breasts then, for a while, until she was moving beneath me,
her eyes wild.

"Cease from biting that pretty lip, O fair Princess," I soothed her, "I am but
preparing thee for the examination in chief, and have no wish to cause thee
displeasure."

"O! Not displeasure, no, no..." she murmured as her lovely head rolled from
side to side, casting that wondrous red-gold hair to and fro on the heavy
white coverlet.

Then, reverently, I parted her maiden thighs, sweet, smooth and strong, and
teased at her golden bush a little, allowing her to open herself naturally.
She was like a flower, precious pink and neat there, and as her petals
filled and blossomed forth I lightly caressed their very tips, eliciting
charming soft squeals of joy. Truly intacta, she must either be very
incurious or very careful: I suspected the latter. Seeing the first
exudations of her nectar now, carefully, carefully I slid into her and found
her sensitive place. Suddenly her voice went lower and began to sound more
urgent.

"O! Scholar, Scholar, do not I prithee... O! It is like a pain, but so
unbearably sweet... Do not, I prithee, stop this exquisite... Ah!"

However, her movements were now too great, and it was needful to give her
rest. And, as I suspected she might, she now became angry and imperious.

"Scholar! I command thee continue! Continue, I say! I order thee! I'll have
thee whipped! O! I demand thee, release my hands!"

So great was her frustration, she was upon the point of crying.

"What, sweet princess? What wouldst thou with those pretty maidenly fingers
of thine?"

"O! I see it now." Her fury had overcome her rapture, now, and she was
suddenly clear-sighted. "Thy hands are woman's hands. No man could be so
gentle, nor so knowing."

"Pooh! dear Princess. It is an ancient art, taught by the ancient doctors:
Hippocrates, the Philosopher, these and many others teach how womanly
distemper may be assuaged..."

"Thinkest thou I have need of thy precious fingers? I? I? Know that at one
word of command, my servant will pleasure me with her tongue!... Aah!"

For at this point, my cool professional judgment dictated that this lovely
but fractious virgin would benefit from having her sensitive place tickled
just a little more, for the sweetening of her temper. It was clear, however,
that my Rosa was a young woman of spirit.

"My button! Oh, Scholar, my button, pray!"

I examined the excited little organ, unsurprised at her revelation that she
was accustomed to having her maidservant pleasure it with her tongue. It
was, I imagined, the perquisite of her station; and indeed her ready
recourse to such delights would naturally account for her indifference to
the prospect of marriage.

"Button, sayest thou? Oh, no, Princess: this is but a little pea." I wetted my
finger and touched it gently, and she arched back, her pretty face distorted
in a grimace. "Dost thou not know, then, the story of the Princess and the
Pea?" I asked, moving my finger gently.

"O! O!" cried she, and,

"It is a most diverting and allegorical story," I continued mildly, "but my
version of it I would postpone until our honeymoon, fair Princess."

"You are a woman! You must be!" quoth the maiden in her extremity; at which
point I withdrew mine hand, and she squealed in the fury of her frustration,
crying "Loose my hands! Loose them, I say! Loose them, Scholar, woman,
witch, whatever thou art, or I'll have thee flogged to the bone!"

The fire in her eyes, visible even through the hair which in part covered her
sweet face, ignited mine own soul, and I could not refrain from kissing her
until she was quiet.

"Sweet Scholar," quoth she, "who art thou, and what is thy name? Whence
comest thou?"

I kissed her again in answer.

"Thou dost not stink like a man," said she, wonderingly, at last; and then,
"Art thou not precious warm in that heavy tunic?"

At that I stood, and allowed Sarah to undress me. The Princess watched,
gasping in amazement:

"Thou hast the waist of a woman... and a woman's breasts, forsooth... thou
art fair, Scholar..." and with that, she began to laugh; then checked
herself, saying "I laughed, but that is of no account now, forsooth. To win
me, you must have me laugh before the whole Court."

"And win thee I shall," I answered boldly, monstrous glad that she found me
comely.

"But why art thou... a woman... I do not understand how that could be."

"And now that thou seest me, fair Rosa, I shall show thee a true button, no
mere pea." With that, I moved close to her, and parted my folds just a
little: in my present excitement, it was very plain to see.

"Oh... I must touch it!" quoth she, in hushed reverence.

"Yes, it is large, and every bit as sensitive as thine," I replied sweetly,
"but it is no fit object for thy unpractised maiden fingers, dear love."

At this, she struggled against her bonds and groaned with annoyance, turning
her head so prettily that I must needs shower her with kisses again, and
tease her some more.

"For those royal fingers are indeed unpractised, are they not, sweet
Princess? With many pretty maidservants to pleasure thee, are those fine,
delicate fingers not unschooled in the art of love?"

She blushed scarlet then, not knowing how to reply, and I could guess the
conflict in her mind.

And then, whilst kissing her from time to time, and gently tickling her
bush, or stroking her tender, smooth petals, oily in the river of her desire,
I related to her my story: how I was a foundling at the Abbey of Saint
Bernard, and there christened Bernard, after they mistook me for a boy. And
how I lived as a boy for fifteen years in the hospital, working with Father
Peter there, and schooled by the wisest of the monks. Of how for many years
I imagined that my man-part had shrivelled or suffered some injury in mine
earliest days, not understanding why the pus would flow from the wound when
I attended to the women, as I did sometimes.  And of my first haemorrhage,
and how I thought that I would die; and how Father Peter reassured me that I
was a woman, but that it must be kept secret lest I be expelled from the
hospital - for by then I was indispensable to him as his disciple and
assistant. How after that, I took charge of the women patients, and
practised diligently the gentle art of bringing about the spasm of delight,
that so beneficially dispels the hysteria and the imbalance of the female
fluids.

I told her, too, of how, believing myself to be a boy, I had always dreamed
of marrying a princess, until the day arrived when the Queen herself was
delivered to my charge; and of course at that time I was not slow to teach
her ladies in waiting the necessary skills.

"Then it was thou taughtest Sarah, Scholar!" cried Rosa.

"Aye, 'twas I taught her all she knows of the art," said I. I explained how,
the first time I treated the Queen, I spied her pretty little daughter, and
loved her, and resolved never to be happy until I had made her mine.

"Thou knewest me when I was a little girl!" she cried, ever amazed, and

"I have loved thee, sweet Rosa, and desired thee with all constancy these
ten years. Why else, when Father Abbot desired to priest me, and I was
compelled to flee ere my deception be known, have I dwelt as a man, though
woman I am? Has love e'er been more proved, more true?"

There was a tear in her eye now, but she could only shake her head and chew
her lip, so moved was she by my profession.

"And now, darling Rosa, if ever thou hast cried to the Lord thy gratitude
for the pleasures of dear Sarah's tongue, now forsooth thou shalt learn from
her that the teacher knoweth to bestow still greater pleasures than the pupil."

And saying this, I commanded Sarah to remove her dress and climb up beside
her royal mistress, and there lie with her, and kiss her and suckle her,
while I pleasured my dear old friend and accomplice with all the skill at my
disposal; and dear Sarah, more impassioned than usual, did so vehemently
kiss and suckle her sweet mistress that I am not sure she in turn did not
spasm too, once or twice. And when Sarah was spent, and her royal mistress
in a frenzy of passion, I did but give a brief foretaste of my mastery upon
her eager breast, whereupon she did cry once more,

"Oh my button, I prithee, fair Scholar, my button, I beg of thee!"

"Nay, dear princess, sweetly though thou prayest, not till we are wed shall I
anoint thy precious pearl, nor drink thy precious honey. But, my princess
dear, none the less do I assure thee of mine utter devotion and servitude,
and in token thereof shall I kiss thy feet till thou art delivered of thy joy."

So saying, I took her dear little feet - the softest, daintiest in all the
kingdom, save those of a newborn - and with lips, and tongue, and gentle,
gentle fingers, I worshipped her beauty. And tormented though she was, and
shaking, and crying, and by all means anything but laughing, she cried out
constantly:

"O! Darling Scholar, Scholar mine! Again, my love! Just there! Ah! Just
there!  Oh, how thou lovest me! I faint! I die!" and much similar sweet
nonsense, until I saw the rigor, and the little gush of precious nectar, and
the palpitation at the throat, and that lovely, unforgettable look of agony
crumbling into sweet content; and then I knew that she had attained her
quietus.

"Now thou knowest how I love thee, and love thee a thousand times more I
shall, once that thou hast laughed in Court, as laugh thou shalt, upon the
morrow. Remember only this: be sure to have dear Sarah Watts at thy side,
dear Rosa, dear love."

And so I untied her, with many kisses, dressed, and left the two sleeping
ladies there in warm and naked embrace.

* * *

Despite my certainty, I cannot deny that mine heart did flutter and bob in
my breast that morning. It was only when I was in the Great Hall once again,
in sight of my three flasks, that my confidence returned. Other suitors,
as I have said, there were two. Handsome were they not, nor I thought
over-wise, nor subtle.

The old King's eyes, rheumy as ever, seemed cast to heaven as if in hope or
despair; while sweet Rosa, pale once more and wide-eyed in mixed hope and
fear, sat at his side and a little behind, Goody Watts faithfully standing
at her elbow.

Then said he to Master Ford, the first suitor:

"Sir, thy riddle, prithee."

And in a high, strained voice, he did put it thus:

"After a Mercian lass hath coupled with a man, what first thing doth she say?"

There is a strained silence in the Court. All know how bawdy are these
riddles of the Mercian lasses. Nor the king, nor his daughter, stir.

"Well, my dear?" saith the King at last in a tired voice.

"Next!" she replyeth sadly.

At this little jest there is some laughter at the back, but the royal eyes
are solemn - hers now turned to Master Brown, in the centre.

Master Ford's eyes are downcast in defeat: "Your Illustrious Highness has
heard it before."

"No, good Master Ford," quoth she, her darling lips so tight in their
blessed irony that I did wish to take her in mine arms. "I really mean, Next!"

The King her father, understanding the sense of her reply, next turneth to
Master Brown, saying:

"Master Brown, thy riddle."

Master Brown cleareth his throat and then he, in deeper voice, speaketh thus:
"When  man cuckoldeth his wife, what, I prithee, cuts sharper than the
sharpest sword?"

My Rosa's impatience showeth in her rolling eye, and without her father's
leave doth interject: "Her reproach, I suppose."

Master Brown casteth down his eye, and "Yea, her reproach it was," saith he.

Finally, the old King turneth his eye upon myself. "Ah, Scholar," quoth he,
"no doubt hast thou some diverting subtlety for us."

"Sire, if it please you, I have here set out these three flasks, each
containing a liquor of great savour and great virtue. I pray you permit Her
Illustrious Highness to taste of each, and then will I put my riddle."

With a wave of his hand, he biddeth her rise. As she taketh the first vial, her
hand meeteth mine, her eyes wide and trusting. She sippeth then with such
maidenly grace and modesty, and then "Ooh!" quoth she, pressing the flask
back into mine hand with such a warmth that I could scarce forbear to kiss
her, even before the whole Court. And so with each; and then, when she is
done, she turneth and, swift and silent, returneth to her throne and sitteth as
still as if she had never stirred therefrom.

"And now," quoth I, "I beg to put my riddle before you. Her Illustrious
Highness hath tasted of three precious liquors, all pleasing to her, and all
of mighty virtue. Where now, I prithee tell, is the liquor which to her is
most pleasing, and of the greatest virtue?"

All brows cloud over. Her pretty forehead frowneth. I see her pointing at her
throat, and I give a gentle shake of my head.

"Tell us, Scholar," at length saith the King, sadly, shaking his head.

This is my moment. I look not at Her Illustrious Highness, but at Goody
Watts, and when I have her eye, I point to my mouth. "Here in mine own
mouth!" I proclaim, and so doing, I make mine eyes round, and protrude my
tongue as far as it will go, and waggle it.

Her Illustrious Highness seemeth puzzled for a moment; the old King shaketh his
head; and then cometh a sudden explosion from Goody Watts, on whose
profane sense of humour I knew I could rely.

"Licker!" she cannot refrain from whooping, and then she is all over her
mistress, laughing and whooping, and the very sound of her raucous,
cackling, bawdy laugh is irresistible: whether or not the joke is funny, the
whole Court erupteth in laughter: the King, a little bewildered, hath the 
thing
explained to him; and now I see dear Rosa, laughing and crying, helpless
with laughter, no longer pale indeed, but very prettily flushed; and she is
still laughing a little as she cometh to me, and giveth me her hand, and in
mine ear doth sweetly say,

"I'll have my fill of that precious liquor, honey mine."

* * *

And so, without delay, we were wed: and that same night, or early the next
morn, when we were yet half-drunk on love's sweet nectar, she turned to me
and said:

"How thou must love me, dear Scholar, to bind and crush thy pretty breast so
cruelly!"

"Then, my lovely Princess, must thou pull it out straight again, with those
fair lips of thine!"

And after much of this, and I moaning and blessing the Lord for his
goodness, she must needs suddenly think of affairs of state, turn to me
in concern and say:

"O sweet love, how are we two ever to manage the succession?"

"The succession?" say I. "O just think, sweet love, that now the opportunity 
is ours: if what they say be true, the wit of Reason can devise a stratagem, 
and the power of Reason carry it through."

Finis