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

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

... 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 ...