The Queen’s Prime: A Naughty, Silly Fairy Tale
PART I
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 more than 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 all 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.
PART II
Princess Clitoria awoke to a knocking on the door – or maybe in her head. It was possible that she had too much wine the previous night. The banquet had been fun – and the sex with her grandmother had been awesome – but having to stay several feet away from everyone else kind of stank. So she might have drank a tad too much.
Then she realized she was naked. She cast about her room but found no sign of her clothes.
Yes, she definitely drank a tad too much.
She looked at the clock on the wall. 8:00. Her Priming ceremony was at noon. She still had another four hours, she could get some more rest. She closed her eyes.
The knocking came again, this time she knew for sure it was at the door and completely different from the pound between her ears.
“Who is it?” she croaked in a dry, hungover voice.
“It’s your grandmother. We need to get you ready for your Priming.”
“My Priming isn’t until noon.”
“Which is why we are going to start working on that hangover now.”
“I’m not hungover.”
“You’re not hungover now in the same way you were not a virgin yesterday.”
“You took care of that,” Clitoria giggled, then went and unlocked the door, letting her grandmother in. As soon as the door closed behind her, she leapt into LXVII’s arms. “If you want to help me with my hangover you can give me more of that loving.” She showered her face with kisses, but her grandmother gently pushed her away.
“Not today child,” the older woman said. “It’s your Priming. Nobody has sex with you today except your mother and her Prime.”
“Oh poop,” Clitoria said.
“I don’t think you will find either of them lacking in sexual skills. I doubt you will go to bed tonight unsatisfied.”
“Okay, whatever,” Clitoria pouted, sitting down on the bed.
Another knock came on the door and a maid entered, carrying a steaming mug of something that smelled a little suspect.
“What’s that?” asked Clitoria.
“Just a little herbal tea that should help you perk right up,” LXVII said.
Several cups of tea later, Clitoria was able to stomach some cockathrice sausage and some pastries. The ringing in her head had subsided and she was beginning to feel more human.
“Are you sure we can’t have a quickie before the ceremony?” she asked, not for the first time since her grandmother had come in.
“No, dear,” LXVII said. “Tradition says you are not to have any sex the day of the Priming except at the Priming. You keep asking about more sex, which seems surprising from a girl who was a virgin with little interest in sex 24 hours ago. I think I have created a monster.”
“Maybe. I’m not interested in sex with anyone, just with you. I couldn’t give a darn about my mother or Sir Fucksalot…”
“You mean Sir Laysalot.”
“Yeah,” Clitoria replied with a sneer. “That’s what I said. He’s such a conceited asshole. Almost all the knights are conceited assholes. I hate having to give myself up to one of them.”
“You aren’t giving yourself to them,” LXVII corrected. “They are giving themselves to you.”
“I guess,” Clitoria mumbled and moved to look out the window. “But I still prefer sex with someone I care about than just any random person.”
“Then separate in your mind sex as a duty and sex as a pleasure. That’s how I managed to produce your mother. When doing it as your duty, if you can enjoy it that’s great, but if you don’t, well, it’s just your duty. Then on the other side, there’s having sex with someone you have honest feelings for. You will spend much more of your life on the fun side than you will on the duty side.”
“I guess,” Clitoria repeated. “But right now there is only one person I have honest feelings for when it comes to sex. You.”
“Which is normal when you have only had sex with one person. Trust me, my child, as your experience grows, your potential list of partners will expand as well.”
“I guess,” Clitoria said, for the third time, and the room lapsed into silence.
As the hour of the Priming ceremony approached, Clitoria bathed and donned the purple-and-white robe she was required to wear. Her grandmother wore a similar robe except hers was black-and-purple.
As she was affixing the belt of her robe, LXVII turned to Clitoria.
“I am sure you have read the official documents describing the steps of the Priming ceremony, correct?”
“Sure,” Clitoria said. “All the living queens, and portraits of all the deceased queens, are staged in the assembly hall. You will present me to my mother. She and I will review the knights – though details are sketchy as to what that means – then I give my mother’s Prime my robe, standing naked in front of the assembly. Then the queen would take one of my hands, the Prime would take the other, and we will go into the queen’s chambers for one hour. At the end of the hour, we return to the throne room, the Prime gives me back my robe, the assembly claps, and then everyone disperses to prepare for the festival and bonfire tomorrow. Simple, at least that’s what is in the official ceremony order. The minutes and notes from previous ceremonies are restricted to only the queen and prior queens. I’m not sure why, but I haven’t been able to access them.”
“There is a reason for that,” LXVII said, opening the door to the hallway and taking her granddaughters hand, beginning the walk to the assembly chamber.
“Why is that?”
“You will soon see, but all I am allowed to say is this. As a queen, you are the figurehead. When things go well in the queendom, you are lauded and praised. But when things go bad, you are hated and reviled. You have spent your entire life preparing for the good times, now you are to be prepared for the bad.”
Clitoria stopped in her tracks. “Are you saying I am to be hurt or humiliated?”
“My dear child,” LXVII said. “We will never hurt you.” She kissed Clitoria on her forehead.
“What about humiliate me?” Clitoria said, still standing stock still.
“Come, my dear, the time is almost here,” LXVII evaded, and pulled Clitoria down the hall.
As they approached the assembly chamber they could hear the chatter inside. LXVII stopped just outside the door and peered inside. Over her shoulder, Clitoria could see her mother, dressed in a bright red robe standing at the far end of the 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 queen!” cried LXIII.
“Is there even a pussy down there? All I see is a notch I couldn’t get even get a screwdriver into! A knight’s cock would split that girl open! And birthing a babe would be the death of her!” shouted LXV.
The insults rained down on Clitoria. She felt her face turning red and tears welling up in her eyes. She turned to LXVII, still standing beside her.
“Ignore them, child. You will face worse as queen.”
“Let the knights at her,” one of the former queens called. “They’ll make a woman out of her.”
At this, Vaginella held up her hand and silence descended on the chamber. She slowly unbuckled her own robe’s belt and pulled off the scarlet raiment. Beneath, she wore red leather thigh-high boots and a dazzling array of body jewelry that almost covered her from her neck to her thighs. Nipple rings, necklaces, armbands, chokers, a net of jewels about her waist, an endless display of gold, silver, and gems. It made Clitoria catch her breath.
Vaginella removed her robe and handed it to Laysalot, who passed both Clitoria’s and her mother’s robes to the page. Vaginella turned to LXVII, who also disrobed and handed her robe to the page as well.
“Are you ready to inspect the knights?” asked Vaginella.
Clitoria was still stinging with the harsh words of her forebears and was staring darts at the dais where they sat, her face beaming defiance even as her cheeks were still wet with tears. LXVII put her arms around her shoulders.
“Pay them no mind,” her grandmother whispered in her ear. “It is their job to humiliate you now, so you may be a stronger queen later. Let it roll off your back. Turn your thoughts to what you are told to do next.”
Clitoria nodded. She turned to her mother.
“I am ready,” she said.
Vaginella took her daughter’s hand and led her to the far end of the line. The first knight in line was young, he looked no more than twenty one or twenty two. He was the newest knight in the kingdom.
Vaginella stood by his side, reached down and unbuckled his robe, pulling it off him and tossing it to the floor behind him. The young knight stood stock still, his eyes facing forward, his arms rigid at his side. His chest muscles were sinewy and hard as he held himself at attention. He looked almost more nervous and uncomfortable than Clitoria. But as with all the knights, his overdose of cockathrice blood the prior day had led to a throbbing erection the moment he got any where near any woman. And the fact that there were now three generations of beautiful women standing in front of him meant he had a large, purple, pulsating cock sticking out in front of him, with a hint of pre-come starting to dribble from the tip.
Vaginella turned to Clitoria.
“Kneel,” she commanded.
“I will not kneel before a knight. They shall kneel before me!” spat back Clitoria.
“For the next twelve days, I am still the queen, and you shall kneel before me when I command you. Now kneel!”
Tears threatened to well up in Clitoria’s eyes, but she fought them back and knelt as she was commanded. Vaginella pulled her naked daughter so that her face was positioned directly in front of the end of the knight’s purple cock. Clitoria felt LXVII’s hand on her shoulder, calming her.
“Knight, state your name,” Vaginella said.
“I am Sir Jonas, Your Majesty” said the knight, his eyes still staring straight ahead.
“Thank you for your service to the queendom, Sir Jonas,” Vaginella said. “You have the honor of being the first to be reviewed by the new queen.”
Vaginella pressed her bejeweled body against the side of the knight, her lips just an inch from his ear, her breasts against his arm, her thigh rubbing the back of his leg. She ran a hand down his chiseled chest, tickling his nipples, then moving past his navel to his pulsating cock.
“Are you ready?” she asked the knight.
“Yes, your Majesty.”
“Very good. Daughter, open your mouth.”
Clitoria wasn’t sure what was about to happen, but she complied, opening her lips. Behind her, LXVII gently guided her face so her open mouth was next to the end of the knight’s cock.
Vaginella ran her hand up the shaft of the knight’s erection, first teasing it lightly with her finger tips. She reached between her legs, moistened her hand with her own arousal, and used that as a lubricant as she stroked the knight’s cock.
The knight’s breath came faster. Dribbles of pre-come slipped from his cock, mixing with the queen’s juices and adding to the slick mixture that coated his member. Clitoria stared nervously at the tip of the cock, seeing the purple head swell, the aperture at the tip expanding, readying to release its burden.
Clitoria watched as the knight’s balls tightened and suddenly a thick shot of pearly semen erupted from the tip and went straight into Clitoria’s mouth. She spat it out and tried to pull back but LXVII held her head tight, preventing her from moving as load after thick load of semen poured over her face.
“Open your mouth,” commanded Vaginella. “And swallow it!”
Clitoria glared at her mother defiantly as come dribbled down her chin and across her small, pert breasts.
“Do as your queen commands!” her mother called. Without taking her eyes off of her mother’s she swallowed and opened her mouth, taking the last couple of pulses from the knight’s cock into her mouth and swallowing them.
Vaginella lifted her hand from the knight’s cock and then turned and kissed him on the lips.
“Thank you sir knight, you are excused,” she said. The knight took his robe and exited the chamber silently, a few drops of semen still dribbling from his cock tip.
“Next knight!” called Vaginella. LXVII guided Clitoria so she was positioned in front of the knight as he disrobed and his thick, veiny shaft hovered in front of her.
“Now, daughter, you know what is expected” Vaginella said. “Do as you have been commanded.”
Vaginella repeated the performance with the next knight. She pressed herself against him, used her own juices to lubricate his cock, and shot his load into Clitoria’s waiting mouth.
Clitoria herself had never felt more humiliated and used. She was taking the names of each of the knights in her head and planning her revenge on them once she was queen. This would not stand. This could not be tolerated. This was not how you treated a queen.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a fresh load of come that poured into her mouth and across her face, a shot hitting her in the eye and making her groan.
One-by-one she made her way down the row of knights, with each one unloosing their load into Clitoria’s mouth. The Princess had no trouble with the taste – she had heard of some girls gagging the first time they tasted come, but she enjoyed the feel of the slick, slimy substance slipping down her throat when she swallowed. She just would have liked it a lot more if she had control over the situation.
Once she was queen, she would show these fuckers. She would make every one of them bow before her and lick every drop of pussy juice from snatch personally, one at a time. They would pay. They would be her sex slaves until the day she died. She cursed each one of them in turn.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the last knight in the line had been satisfied and was dismissed and Clitoria now knelt before Sir Laysalot, her mother’s Prime. Clitoria’s face was coated with a thick layer of creamy juice.
Vaginella sauntered up to stand beside Sir Laysalot.
“Sir Knight, is the queen-to-be ready for the Priming?” she asked.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Sir Laysalot replied. “She has learned her lesson well.”
Sir Laysalot dropped his robe and stood nude before the kneeling Clitoria. Dutifully, she opened her mouth and closed her eyes, hovering in front of Laysalot hard cock, waiting for the onslaught of semen she knew was coming.
“Arise, young Princess Clitoria,” Laysalot intoned.
Clitoria’s eyes popped open and she gazed up at the knight.
“Arise?” she stammered.
Vaginella and LXVII reached under her arms and helped her to her feet. Vaginella pulled her daughter’s face towards hers, bending it slightly forward and slowly licking off the globs of semen that clung to the younger woman’s face. She worked her tongue across Clitoria’s cheeks, her lips, her forehead, her eyes and nose. Then she made her way down her chin, across her neck, and licked the come streamers that had run down the Princess’s small chest and stomach. The queen spent a moment kissing her daughter’s breasts and flicking her tongue across her tiny nipples, before giving Clitoria a long, deep passionate kiss. Their tongues intertwined, the remnants of semen exchanging between their mouths.
Finally Vaginella pulled back, a single streamer of a saliva/semen mixture stretching out between their mouths before breaking and dribbling across their chins.
“Never again, Princess, will anyone treat you that way,” Vaginella said. “But you must always remember, your knights are here to serve you, but you as their queen are here to serve them as well. Do not take their sacrifices lightly. Do you understand?”
Clitoria nodded.
Vaginella turned to LXVII.
“Your Former Majesty. Have you verified the Princess is not a virgin?” Vaginella asked.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” LXVII replied.
“Very good.”
Vaginella turned to the former queens in attendance. “If it pleases the assembly, we will retire to my chambers, to return here in one hour exactly.”
The former queens nodded.
Vaginella then took one of Clitoria’s hands, Sir Laysalot took the other, and they exited the chamber.
Clitoria found she no longer cared that she wore nothing.
When they reached the queen’s chambers, Vaginella poured them all a glass of wine.
“So this is where you teach me how a queen is to be satisfied, correct?” asked Clitoria.
“If you wish,” Laysalot said. “But if left to your own devices, I am sure you will figure out how you want to be satisfied on your own. Every woman is different.”
Vaginella took a sip of her wine.
“Or, if you wish, we can relax for an hour before we go back into the chamber,” she said. “Or we can answer any questions you may have about Primes, or being queen, or anything like that.”
“You seem pretty relaxed, all things considered,” Clitoria said.
“I am relaxed because I wasn’t sure how you would react to that ceremony. The last thing I needed was you to balk. I am ready to turn this whole queen gig over to you, Miss Soon-to-be-Vaginella LXIX. Now that’s done, I can relax. In less than two weeks I join the council and you become the new figurehead.”
Clitoria nodded and turned to Laysalot.
“And you, you give sage advice,” she said. “I had always thought of you as a conceited ass more interested in his sexual prowess than anything else.”
The Prime laughed. “I am a conceited ass, and as Prime, and am most interested in my sexual prowess. And who better than I to tell you that your sexual taste is yours to discover?”
“Well spoken. So tell me,” she said. “How do I choose a Prime. I haven’t ***********ed one yet.”
Vaginella smiled. “You still haven’t made a choice? You could pick someone at random, or you could just continue with the current Prime – though you would have to fight me for him – or you can do something unexpected.”
“Unexpected?” asked Clitoria.
“Did anyone ever tell you how your great-grandmother chose her Prime?”
“Wait, isn’t my great-grandmother the one who killed that guy with her blowjobs?”
“The same. Let me tell you the story…”
And she did. And Clitoria liked the idea, with a couple of modifications to suit her own ends.
The three of them drank the bottle of wine, started another, had a drunk, sloppy threesome. Clitoria and her mother were sharing the second load from Laysalot’s cock when a page arrived. He had been sent to summon them back to the chambers two hours late to finish the ceremony because they had lost track of time.
Clitoria and Vaginella did their duties, then spent the rest of the day wandering the castle and grounds naked and drunk, singing, laughing, and pleasuring each other where ever they chose. It seems that was another tradition that never quite made it into the official ceremony records…
PART III
Princess Clitoria awoke to a knocking on the door. She rolled over in bed and bumped into a warm body – a warm female body. She opened her eyes. She was in the queen’s chamber and was in bed naked with the queen, meaning her mother.
Surprisingly she wasn’t as hung over as she had been the previous morning, but there was still a little bit of a lingering headache. And she definitely could remember wandering about the castle the night before with her mother, drunk, naked, and horny.
The door opened and LXVII entered, a maid trailing carrying two steaming mugs of tea.
“God, give me that tea,” Clitoria said. “It’s going to take a couple cups of that, some food, and a solid fuck before I feel human again.”
“For a girl who wasn’t sure she could have sex with someone she didn’t care for, you seem to be making up for lost time,” LXVII said, handing her the mug of tea.
Next to her in bed, Vaginella stirred, then propped herself up one elbow.
“You, my daughter, are a fast learner,” she said, reaching for the other cup of tea.
“I had a good teacher,” Clitoria responded, looking up at LXVII, who smiled.
“I didn’t know you still cared about who you slept with,” LXVII said.
“I do care, and I care about who I make Prime. The only people I have slept with so far, besides the Priming, are you and my mother. I care deeply for you, as you know, and I love my mother too, despite the fact that she acts like a slutty, catty bitch sometimes.”
“Love you too, sweetheart,” said Vaginella, who kissed her daughter on the lips, then pinched her nipple hard enough to make Clitoria wince.
“What time is it?” Vaginella asked.
“It’s almost noon. The three of us are due to light the bonfire at 4:00 so we wanted to give you a few hours to pull yourselves together, bathe, and so forth.”
“Thank you,” Clitoria said. “How about if we all go naked?”
“I’m down with that,” said Vaginella.
“I am too,” said LXVII. “But tradition requires that we wear the robes we wore to Priming to the lighting of the bonfire. After that, we can wear whatever we want.”
“I think our robes have, um, stains on them,” Clitoria giggled.
“It’s the day after Priming,” LXVII shot back. “Clean robes would be considered a bad omen. Stained robes are a blessing.”
“Okay, so semen-stained robes are a go, and naked after we light the fire. Check,” Vaginella offered. “But we still have time for breakfast and a threesome before we have to clean up.”
“Why would I have a threesome with you two,” LXVII said. “The whole room smells like stale wine, sweat, and fish.”
“You’re a lesbian,” Vaginella said. “That’s how you like it.”
“True,” said LXVII. “You got me there.”
And so it came to pass that shortly before 4:00 the three of them – well fucked, well bathed, and wearing stained garments – mounted a stage set up beside a massive pile of wood that looked like it would burn for a week. In fact, the bonfire would be kept burning until the actual coronation eleven days later.
The queen was handed a torch by the mayor of the village and she passed it to LXVII, who passed it to Clitoria, who tossed it onto the pyre. She didn’t know what they had soaked the wood with, but it went up instantly in a roaring flame that shot almost thirty feet in the air.
The assembled crowd roared their approval.
The queen approached the edge of the dais and spoke to the crowd.
“My citizens, today is the day our soon-to-be-queen, Princess Clitoria, announces who her new Prime will be. For this ceremony, I would like to ask the twelve knights who are not currently Prime to join us on the stage.” She gestured for the knights, who were standing in full armor at attention at the foot of the dais to join them, and they climbed up and stood in a row. Sir Laysalot remained at the foot of the dais, but smiled up at them.
“Thank you, sirs. Now, I believe the Princess has a question she would like to ask each of you.”
Clitoria, who was now sweating profusely from the heat of the bonfire just a few feet behind her, rose. She unbuckled the belt on her robe and tossed it to the floor of the stage, and now stood before the knights and the crowd wearing only an assortment of the jewelry that her mother had worn to her Priming the day before. She approached the knights.
“Sir Knights, I have a question for you, and I will ask each of you to answer in turn. The question is this:
“When I am queen, I shall give my Prime an allotment of 500 gold a month to execute a program of his design and implementation to improve the circumstances of the queendom. If you were to be made Prime what would be your program?
“Now,” she continued. “I know I am dropping this on you all of a sudden, so I will give you five minutes to think about it.”
She returned to her seat and sat down between her mother and grandmother. There was a long and uncomfortable pause as the crowd processed what she had just said, and the knights tried to sort out exactly what was being asked. A couple of them raised their hands with questions which Clitoria answered.
Clitoria stood up at the end of five minutes and stood before the knights.
“Now, good knights, there is one thing I forgot to mention. Before you each answer my question, you must disrobe.”
A stir ran through the knights.
“Your Majesty, begging your pardon,” one night said. “But did you say disrobe? As in get naked?”
“Yes, that’s what I said. You had no problem with getting naked yesterday and shooting your load in my face. Why the hesitation now?”
The knight bowed gracefully and began to pull off his armor. From below in front of the stage, Clitoria could hear the sound of Sir Laysalot laughing.
The knights were still under the influence of too much cockathrice blood and the sight of the naked Princess, as well as her naked mother and grandmother who had also disrobed under the heat of the bonfire, had brought them all to full attention, and a row of thick, hard cocks stood out in front of Clitoria.
She started at the head of the line, where the oldest most grizzled veteran knights stood. She stood next to the first in line, pressing her body against him as her mother had done the day before. She ran her hand down his stomach to his cock and began slowly stroking it.
“So, tell me good knight, what your program would be for the good of the queendom?”
“I would spend all of it on providing our beloved queen with the best cock money can buy!” he said with a snotty sneer.
Clitoria shook her head. “No thanks, you’re dismissed. Get dressed and go join Sir Laysalot at the foot of the dais.
She repeated this performance eleven more times. Of the twelve knights, six gave snide or cocky answers, and they were sent back down to guard duty. One had no answer and was also dismissed. The remaining five all had intriguing responses. Two had ideas for improving the security of the roads against highwaymen, one wanted to provide food for the hungry, one had a plan for reducing the cockathrice population, and the last – the young man who had been first in line at her Priming and had looked so uncomfortable – he said he had become a knight because if he didn’t he wouldn’t be able to provide for his baby sister who had been left alone when his parents perished, so he wanted to improve the care for orphans.
All of these five men seemed sincere, and they all spoke kindly and respectfully. Clitoria knew whichever she choose, she could respect and honor as her Prime. So in the end, among the five, there was only one deciding factor.
Clitoria picked up her robe from her seat and sauntered out in front of the five remaining knights.
“So it is down to five,” she said, looking them over, taking in their bodies, and their cocks that were still pointing upwards in front of them. She tossed her robe down on the dais before her, and knelt atop it on all fours
“You there,” she said, nodding to the most senior of the five knights still on the stage. “Get down here and show me what you can do. Don’t stop until you’ve shot everything you’ve got inside me. Understood?”
“Yes, Your Majesty!” he cried. He knelt down, positioned himself behind her and went to work.
For Clitoria, who had never had a man’s cock inside of her, it was transcendental. The knight clearly had a lot of practice and it was all Clitoria could do to keep from screaming when the knight finally shot his seed inside of her.
Satisfied with his work, the knight stood up, and made as to help Clitoria to her feet, but she waved him off.
“There are four more to go,” she said, trying to exhibit far more confidence than she felt. Her knees were weak, her head was swimming, and her pussy was throbbing. She gestured to the next knight in line.
It was just like the first. Her mother had taught her knights well. Again, Clitoria was brought to a climax that made the dais shake. She stared into the bonfire in front of her, feeling its warmth while at the other end, she felt the warmth of the second knight’s seed pouring into her body.
She gave a little groan as the second knight rose. She gestured to the third, who repeated the performance, and then to the fourth, who also left her shaking.
Finally, the fifth knight, the young man who had looked so nervous at the Priming and who said he had become a knight to take care of his baby sister. Clitoria gestured at him, steeling her nerves for another round of soul-crushing orgasms.
He climbed down and positioned himself behind her, but did not penetrate her.
“Um, Your Majesty?” he whispered.
“Yes?” said Clitoria, looking back over her shoulder at him.
“Um, there is no need to go through with this. I know I can not compete with the other knights. I have only been a knight a couple of weeks. Your Priming was the first time I had any sex at all with your mother. She has far more experienced knights than I who can satisfy her – and you.”
Clitoria turned to the knight and knelt facing him.
“Are you a virgin?” she asked.
“I was until your mother stroked me into your mouth yesterday,” he said. “So as a Prime, I could never satisfy your royal needs the way these other knights can.”
Clitoria smiled, leaned forward, and kissed him on the lips.
“48 hours ago, I, too, was a virgin. You and I can learn together, my Prime.”
She turned back around on all fours.
“Do your best,” she said over her shoulder. “You will get better with time. We will both get better with time.”
She closed her eyes and felt as the young knight clumsily slipped his cock inside of her.
So that day it was announced that the youngest knight was to be the new queen’s Prime, something that was both surprised and celebrated.
Eleven days later, one month after Princess Clitoria’s eighteenth birthday, she became Queen Vaginella LXIX, and that young fair-haired knight her Prime. The former Vaginella, or LXVIII, as she now became commonly known, took her rightful place on the royal council of former queens.
Nine months after the bonfire, the new queen gave birth to the new Princess Clitoria, who would one day be installed as LXX, carrying the legacy forward.
AND THEY ALL LIVED HAPPILY (AND HORNILY) EVER AFTER.