The Queen’s Prime: A Naughty, Silly Fairy Tale - Sex Stories

The Queen’s Prime: A Naughty, Silly Fairy Tale

... 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. ...