by Naomi Penn
Calvin looked at John, Matt and finally at Mandy and he smiled.
“Okay Mandy I think that’s enough for today, I’ll write you up a prescription which should bring the swelling down.” He sniggered.
“Oh and boys, let’s get those papers signed shall we?”
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TEMPTATION TALES
Story 25
The captain stopped the carriage and stepped down off the driver’s bench. Princess Harmony leaned up and looked through the windows along the side. “Why are we stopping, Captain?”
“I’m walking back.”
Harmony thought he was kidding. “If you are relieving yourself, be quick. I’m tired of being in this box.”
“I’m not,” the captain said. “This is where I leave you.”
Harmony pushed a strand of blond hair back up into the sculpture her ladies had done with her hair before she left her father’s palace for the last time. She palmed both her ample breasts in her gown and adjusted them. The travel was frazzling her. She was eighteen, the third youngest of all the children and youngest daughter of five princely brothers and seven princess sisters, but being cramped inside was making her feel older than her queen mother after twelve pregnancies. She imagined her mother wished they lived in a kingdom that allowed concubines like her new home and soon to be husband.
“I don’t find you funny, Captain,” Harmony said as she gave up on trying to return her heavy breasts to their proper position.
“I’m not trying to be funny, Princess,” he said. “I am allowed no farther and no closer to King Girthton’s domain. His instructions and the treaty that your marriage seals between him and your father are quite clear.”
“You are serious.” She swallowed. “Don’t abandon me here, Captain. Please. I’m scared.”
“Keep yourself together. You are to be the wife of a king.”
“Don’t talk to me like that. Get back in the driver’s seat.”
Two people climbed up onto the front of the carriage shaking the whole thing as they went. Harmony saw their trousers and shiny, black boots.
“Thank you,” the captain said. “Give your king the best wishes from my master.”
The captain bowed up to the bench and moved away from Harmony’s window without acknowledging her. “I said, don’t leave me. Tell me what’s going on. Who is up there? I am a princess in one kingdom and a queen in another. I won’t be treated like this.”
The carriage lurched forward and she toppled back onto the seat and her legs went up into the air. He shoes clinked together. The skirts of her gown fell up around her face revealing her milky thighs. Lacy frills decorated her undergarments that accented the curves of her womanly folds and her buttocks.
Harmony scrambled back up and covered herself again. Her father and mother would have her spanked for showing her undergarments when she was little. They would not do it themselves, but they would have one of the attendants do it at their direction. Harmony used to get spanked a lot as she recalled.
She looked out through the back window. The captain was smiling and waving. Her jaw dropped open. When he saw her looking, he blew a kiss and threw his arm out in a grand flourish.
She yelled out at him even though in a small part of her mind she knew that he could not hear her. “You terrible man. You never liked me. You are glad this is happening to me. You are not a good servant of the king.”
She turned her attention back forward and leaned up to try to see her new drivers. She heard their boots thump on the floor of the bench. “Who are you? Where are you taking me?”
***
They did not answer.
“Are we going to my new king? Do you serve him? If you serve him, then you serve me and I demand that you answer me.”
They said nothing.
Harmony pulled at the handle of the door to the carriage, but it did not budge. She tried to reach out through the window, but it was too high for her to reach.
She fell back to the bench and crossed her arms. She could not find a comfortable place to hold them above nor below her bosoms, so she fell to her back on the seat lying down. One breast slid out of her gown revealing one pert, pink nipple. Harmony sighed and pulled up her skirts to show the outline of her private areas under her lacy undergarments.
No one was there to see, no one was paying attention, and no one would spank her for her indecency.
Harmony whispered up to the roof of the carriage. “If no one is meant to see, why do you sew lace upon it to decorate it like an invitation?”
No one answered and she waited for her long trip to be finished.
As she stared up at the ceiling and felt the rocking of the carriage, Harmony slid her hand into her bodice and freed her other breast. The material of her gloves was rough as she pulled and twisted at her nipples. She would be raw and her flesh sensitive inside her gown, if she did not stop, but Harmony kept pulling and even flicked them. The shocks of pain traveled through her body and made her feel more deeply. It wasn’t about the boredom of the trip or being trapped in the tight space taken away by strangers any longer.
They were above her in their shiny, black boots as she punished her hard nipples. Harmony flicked again and sucked in air. She pressed her finger into her thumb over her hot, throbbing nipple until her fingers shook. Her breathing increased as she brought up fear and anticipation of the brutal sensation that was about to come.
Her voice came breathy and quaking over her lips. “Naughty, naughty girl.”
She fired her finger tip off her thumb and blasted it across the rounded mountain of her nipple sending an explosion of tense ache through her body that made her buttocks tighten as hard as rocks. Gooseflesh rippled across her breasts and down her stomach. It ended in hot wetness between her legs under her lacy undergarments.
The wet warmth was so sudden that she thought for a moment that she had peed herself.
“That would be very bad.” She scolded herself in a whisper.
Harmony closed her teeth on the material over one of her fingers and pulled one hand free of her glove. She let the glove fall from her mouth to the sweaty top of her chest and her neck. She slid her free hand down her gown and teased the lace frills of her tight undergarments. Her folds below were so warm and swollen. She parted the lips of her mouth as she inspected herself.
Harmony slid her hand under the material and plunged deep between her garment and flesh. She found the wet canyon of her hidden lips and drew one finger through in a slow plowing motion. She was wet from her own sensual touches and nothing else. Surely her new king would appreciate this.
“Still naughty.” She whispered.
She pressed the button until she couldn’t take the waves of pulsing energy any longer. If there were really magic in the world, Harmony thought, it must come from this spot. She twirled her sticky finger over it and tortured herself with greater pleasure. She imagined flicking it the way she did her nipples when no one was watching and she wanted to punish herself. The thought of it made her pulse throb hot in her head and she blinked. That was too much to imagine, but she decided to save it for later – for a time when she had been very, very bad.
Harmony slid her finger down and into the opening she knew her new king would want to conquer soon. She knew what men did in their conquests of this magic spot, but she had yet to experience it. She had used many objects in the shape of a man’s weapon of lust before, some quite large the way she imagined the captain to be under his cod piece, but she had never experienced the fleshy reality.
As she pumped her finger in and out, she felt the fear of feeling her first love from a man nearly as old as her father. King’s that took wives to seal political alliances over land were always older men. Maybe his lust would be softer and she could easily take it for her first real try. She hoped he would not be soft all the time in his length nor in his touch. She would have packed some of her favorite, hard toys, but others had packed for her, so those
hidden treasures were left behind.
She would have to make due. Princess Harmony inserted two more fingers with the first and enjoyed the stretch. She let out a moan not caring if King Girthton’s drivers heard or not. If they would not talk to her, they could talk about her after they were done hearing her play in the carriage under them.
She thought about her father’s captain waving, smiling, and blowing a malicious kiss as she was taken away to experience another man. She wondered if he would think about her being taken. Men had to think about something when they serviced themselves. She knew they all did as she snuck through the castle at night listening and sometimes watching from the shadows.
Harmony worked herself faster and harder. She used her other hand to lift her own breast and feed her burning nipples into her mouth. Her tongue and lips soothed their heat while adding heat below.
***
As she thought about her hatred for the captain and his leaving her – dismissing her, she thought about what she had never gotten to see under his cod piece. The swirl of hot anger and dark desire pushed her over into an orgasm.
Harmony sucked herself and moved her slick fingers out over the button again. She twirled and pulled at it as she rode the waves of pleasure. At the end, she gave the magic spot one, light flick and she nearly passed out from the kick of sensation.
This would have been quite a state for her to be found, if she had fainted and they opened the carriage to find her.
She released her nipple from her lips and withdrew her hand. Harmony licked her fingers and then slid them back into the glove.
She ordered herself. “Stop, naughty girl.”
But she did not listen. Harmony slid her gloved hand back into her garments. She tortured her folds and throbbing parts with light touches from the rough material.
The carriage rumbled to a stop and she drew her gloved hand out fast enough to make her undergarments snap against her skin. She looked up above her through her window and saw the battlements of a castle, the spires of high towers, and red banners that bore no markings accept for one long straight black sword.
“That’s a bit to the point, isn’t it?” Harmony said.
The palace was not as large as her fathers, but the dark stone made it look imposing. She wondered where they would find blackened stone to use and why they would cut such a thing into block for a castle instead of something brighter and more regal like her father’s castle.
She started to sit up and straighten herself as she imagined guards looking down and possibly glimpsing her inside the carriage. Then, a naughty grin crossed her face.
Harmony pulled the skirts of her gown down, but still left her milky thighs showing. When she sat up, she knew how to flash the lace without looking like she had meant to do so. She pulled up and straightened her bodice, but left just a hint of each nipple showing above the gown – enough to appear unintentional.
As the drivers climbed down from the driver’s bench and shook the stilled carriage, Harmony folded her arm under her neck and turned her head. She closed her eyes and pretended to be unkempt due to sleep. The king’s drivers would be forced to address her while staring at their own boots. Their discomfort would be her payback for their disregard. They would notice her now.
The door opened and light shown through her closed eyelids. She took one long slow breath that she knew would heave her chest as she pretended to sleep. Their lack of comment and silent stares began to bother and offend her. How dare they stare at the queen like this?
“My lady?” A voice spoke finally, but it did not sound like a man. Harmony thought she might be flashing herself to some boy. “Queen consort?”
The second bit hit Harmony unprepared. Were they calling her that because she was not yet married to their king or because she was just his political prize and she would never truly be a queen – no different than had she remained tenth born in her father’s palace.
Harmony opened her eyes and allowed them to adjust through the sunlight. She saw the boots shining dark with the trousers tucked neatly in the tops. She saw the bright, red blouses with buttons in the front darkened to appear like a black sword on the fronts of the uniforms. Where the hilts would be up near the drivers’ necks, the shirts were unbuttoned down to cleavage. The women had their hair tied tight on top of their heads. Each had two pins like tiny, black swords stabbed through the buns to hold them in place.
Harmony’s eyes widened and she sat up. She smoothed down her gown and pulled up the top to cover herself. “Who are you two?”
The women stepped aside showing a red carpet leading into the open gate of the palace. Embroidered black swords marked both sides of the carpet all the way inside.
Two lines of women in armor lined both sides of the path facing one another. They held thin, black swords down by their sides. Their chainmail hung over their fronts accenting the different sizes and curvatures of their breasts. Silver helmets hid their hair and chainmail veils draped down framing their severe faces.
She did not see a single man in sight.
One of the drivers said, “I will show you to your quarters where you will await the king.”
The other driver stepped aside and climbed back up on the bench.
Harmony gathered her skirts and stepped out onto the carpet. The driver on the ground closed the door and the carriage rolled away behind them.
Harmony held a hand out to the retreating carriage. “My things. Will someone bring them to me?”
“They will be destroyed, my lady.”
***
Harmony’s jaw dropped open. “How dare you? I am a queen and those are my things.”
“Queen consort.” The driver corrected and faced forward. “We have only what our king grants us and the things he has granted you are in your quarters. Shall we?”
Harmony opened and closed her mouth twice, but couldn’t produce any words. She turned forward and began walking. The driver fell in beside her.
The guards on both side raised their swords in unison to point them at an angle toward the sky. The motion was so sharp and swift that Harmony actually recoiled and let out a squeak. She had seen processions similar to this dozens of times, but something about this one unsettled her.
The driver stopped next to Harmony and waited, but did not offer any words of comfort or encouragement.
Harmony resumed walking under the women warriors’ swords with the driver at her side. Harmony could not decide what to do with her hands, so she kept folding and unfolding them.
The lack of trumpets bothered her. There were usually horns. This was utter silence except for the wind. Each pairing of swordswomen lowered their weapons back to their sides after Harmony had passed with the same severe motion as when they raised them. She feared that if she stumbled or missed a step they might clip her with their dark weapons.
They entered the palace grounds and the dark gate rattled down to slam closed behind them. She looked back through the squares of the gate’s bars and saw the female guards standing along the carpet with swords down and eyes forward at one another. They showed no signs of moving and remained silent.
About the grounds, she saw much activity.
Archers practiced with targets on hay bails. They were all women and stripped to the waist with their breasts bound out of their line of draw by leather belts synched tight over their nipples mounding the flesh above and below the leather as they fired their arrows.
A larger woman in an open shed hammered red hot iron across the top of an anvil. Smoke billowed up from the chimney of her furnaces and out through the open face of her smithery shed.
A few women riders crossed Harmony’s path. They were girded for a hunt and circled toward the gate that had just slammed closed. She looked back, but could no longer see the silent greeting procession on the other side.
“This way,” the driver said.
Harmony followed beside the driver up steps that led out of the sun and through towering doors into the cold shadows
of the black stone castle.
“Is everyone here a woman?”
“How do you mean?”
Harmony could not tell if the driver was being purposely obtuse or if she actually did not understand Harmony’s meaning.
Queen Consort Harmony said, “Every person I have seen since I arrived and was unlocked from my carriage has been a woman. The guards, the smith, the naked archers, the huntswomen, and you are all women. Are there any men in this kingdom?”
They turned at the end of a passage and climbed another stair that spiraled. The driver finally answered. “King Girthton is a man.”