by Tysche Dwai
The girdle shrank to force him to remain motionless, his cock buried to the last hairsbreadth inside the tight sheath of her cunt. He could find no slack even to pump against her, and the other torments did not abate, but rather intensified. He would go mad! The ecstasy was more than he could bear, held at the edge of climax, but unable to generate the push he needed to send him over the edge.
"I am dying," he groaned.
"Not yet, beloved," she whispered, with a wicked little simper, and pressed the final button. And now the gentle vibrations within him became full-fledged thrustings—as violent as any he had ever inflicted upon a partner. His senses reeled as one last, punishing stroke held at its deepest plunge, and a burning flood of molten fire was pumped into him from the cruel girdle.
His own pressing need engulfed him, and he found the strength to push the final fraction necessary to topple him from the crest of his climb into the volcano of climax. White-hot heat bathed him as his iron key melted into liquid and filled her strongbox with his greatest treasure.
Cunnygoode's legs around his waist were vise-like as she arched against him, her hungry nether-lips sucking greedily on their seething treat. Her moans in his ear were supplanted by screams of rapture.
His climax intensified as his mind refused to accept any more data, and his body took over. He didn't even realize that he now had the freedom to thrust naturally into the willing woman beneath him as his instincts continued the onslaught unabated. They worked together now, rising and falling in harmony, and he felt a second pressure building within his groin.
With one final shove, he ground his way deep inside her, his hands behind her curvaceous bottom pulling her against him as if they would indeed become one. Both cried out together as they crested ecstatically—one heart, one soul—fused by the girdle into one being for eternity.
There was a loud snap, and the girdle fell asunder, broken beyond repair.
He rolled onto his back, utterly spent, and then shakily levered up on one elbow. Tenderly, Malecom looked down at Cunnygoode's lovely face, sated now with fulfilled desire. With a trembling hand, he brushed the sweat-dampened hair from her forehead, and quietly planted a kiss upon the white expanse. She smiled up at him with a radiance he dared not hope was his alone.
"I would say the spell is definitely broken now, my prince," she whispered.
"Aye, my lady," he agreed, tasting the sweat upon her brow with the tip of his tongue. "Frigi Diti has no more hold on me. Will you now become my queen and reign beside me by day and rule over me by night?"
"As you command, beloved. I have never wished for else."
He lay back on the couch, and took her into his arms. She rested her head contentedly on his broad chest, her golden hair bright against the dark shadow of his own. They lay in silence for several moments, re-gathering resources strained to the limits.
Then Malecom cleared his throat tentatively and ventured, "Umm… Cunny, my dearest love—"
"Yes, Malecom?"
"You don't by any chance know where we can get another one of those girdles, do you?"
Three Wishes
Once upon a time, long long ago, when it was harder to get a cab, but easier to find a virgin, there was a wicked wizard named Frigi Diti. Perhaps you have read of his exploits before, because he was a very wicked wizard, and he got around a lot. As fate would have it, a hot-blooded young princess willing to sacrifice her charms—and risk possible dissection—to rescue her beloved prince foiled his best spell, and the wizard was still pissed about it. Several years had passed since Cunnygoode had rescued her Malecom and risen with him to rule the country of Hardcoreia.
Their kingdom had grown in fame and fortune, until all the world knew of it, and that pretty well pissed the wizard off as well. The reason he put the spell on Malecom in the first place had been jealousy over his younger cousin's substantially larger endowments. For indeed, Frigi Diti was a member in good standing of the royal house—he just didn't stand as well as Malecom…or as long (if you catch my meaning). It was a clear case of princely penis envy.
And so Frigi withdrew into his cavern fortress after the reunion of Cunnygoode and Malecom with his best soft kid glove and a grudge. He would often sit in his favorite chair before a gently crackling fire and stroke his best friend in his lap until it stiffened to attention, and spat angrily into the night—before leaping away so that he could play with himself. (Oh, you thought I meant… No, silly—I was talking about his cat!)
As the years passed, Frigi Diti grew ever stranger, muttering to himself as he sat before his fire peering near-sightedly (you know what they say about your sight…) at the cat, which began to get more than a little nervous as time went on…
Well, it came to pass in time that the normal consequences of going at it like rabbits, as the king and queen were wont to do, caught up with them and a daughter was born to Cunnygoode. It is said that after the experience her ardor was rather cooled, but that is neither here or there to our tale. And nothing of interest much occurred in the girl's childhood, so we'll skip ahead to the good part.
Princess Purelisexy was a beautiful child, combining all the best features of her decidedly handsome parents. From Cunnygoode, she inherited her lovely golden ringlets that teased about her sweetly swelling bosom and fell well down her back. Her skin was the golden blush of a peach tinged with the most elegant rose about the cheeks, and deepening to scarlet on her full lips without needing to resort to the paints and powders that were increasingly necessary to maintain her mother's illusion of being her "older sister." From Malecom, she inherited her eyes of a blue so dark they looked near black, and her tall stature. She stood nearly six feet without shoes, so she wore them as seldom as possible.
Of course, about that particular castle, no one wore much by way of clothing anyway except for state occasions. But even then, Purelisexy usually wore only flat sandals, which laced up her shapely calves in a most fetching manner.
When Pureli was eighteen, she went for a ride one lovely summer afternoon. Pureli loved horses. They made her feel really happy when she was galloping along riding astride, as she always did, and bareback, as she always did, and unclothed, as she usually did whenever she could get away with it. She rode along with her eyes closed—as she often did when the horse made her feel happy—for some time, and when she opened her eyes, she found herself in an unknown corner of the kingdom.
"Why, where on earth could we be, Stud?" she asked her stallion in wonder.
He shook his head and stamped his massive forefoot, rearranging his pose to display his generous endowment to better advantage. Stud never gave up hoping that someday after Pureli got to ride him, she would return the favor.
Purelisexy was a curious lass, and afraid of nothing, for she had led an extremely sheltered existence for all the freedoms she had known. Spying the entrance to a cavern through the trees skirting the sloping hill before her, she moved forward to investigate. Silently, on her little bare feet, she stole to the lip of the cavern and peered inside.
Something brushed her ankle, and she gave a little shriek, before she saw that it was a sinuously coiling cat. "Oh, pretty baby!" she murmured, picking it up—which was exactly what the cat had hoped for—and cradling it to her chest like a child.
The cat purred rapturously as she scratched under its chin, and began to lick her bare bosom. "Oh!" Pureli cried again in surprise…and then, "Oohhh…" as the rough sandpaper tongue began to coax the oddest sensations from her tender flesh.
The cat, well acquainted with this exercise, expertly washed the swelling curve of her left breast before concentrating its attentions on the rosebud nipple standing at the center. Pureli's eyes lost focus as the nipple began to harden under the skillful ministrations. Especially when the cat began to purr loudly, the vibrations running through its tongue to trill against the sensitive teat.
Pureli's chest began to heave, and Stud started forward jealously, but a hoarse shout broke the mood. Pureli instinctively dropped the cat, which ca
st a baleful glare over its shoulder at the figure in the shadows before skulking over to commiserate with Stud.
"Who are you?" growled the shadowy man.
"I am the Princess Purelisexy," she replied, drawing herself up proudly. The movement did interesting things to her anatomy, and the figure drew in his breath with a sharp hiss.
"I should have known," muttered Frigi Diti—for, of course, it was he. "Who else would be wandering around naked in the middle of February? Come inside, girl, before you freeze your—before you catch cold."
"Oh, no…I couldn't. My father and mother have told me never to go anywhere with a strange man!"
"But you're not going anywhere with me. You're already here."
"That's true…and it is a bit chilly out here." That was evident from the goose—and other—bumps standing out on her lovely skin.
"Come inside," he exhorted again, stepping back from the mouth of the cave.
Purelisexy stepped cautiously into the darkness, squinting as she tried to see into the gloom of the interior. She felt an arm around her shoulder and pulled back slightly.
"Don't be alarmed, my dear. I won't hurt you—why, we are related. Did you know that? I am your very own cousin."
"Really?" Pureli relaxed and let him lead her forward. After all, if they were related, what harm could there be in an arm around her shoulder? And if that arm had now slipped a little, and his hand slid under her arm to encircle her waist, what could that matter? And if his hand was lightly stroking her skin, moving toward her—fondling her breast!
Pureli stopped dead in her tracks and politely, but firmly, removed his hand from her bosom. "I am sorry, sir, but cousin or not, I must protest this impudent behavior!"
To her utter amazement, the man broke into heaving sobs.
"Oh! There, there," she soothed, rushing forward and gathering him into her arms like the tender-hearted child she was.
Of course, this played directly into Frigi Diti's wicked hands. He was not the least upset by her rebuff, but had counted on winning her sympathy with the old "bursting into pentitent sobs" ploy. Which, of course, worked.
His head now lay nestled between her firm, young breasts, and she had put it there and so could hardly protest. He smiled to himself and wrapped his arms around her supple body.
Pureli gasped, and he chuckled deep in his throat then nuzzled one of her luscious nipples into his eager mouth, running his tongue over it lightly. Her gasp deepened to a moan, and Frigi took a step forward, not relinquishing his hold on either waist or breast.
Pureli was forced to retreat or be shoved off balance by his advance. As she stepped back, her calf hit against a barrier, and she fell backward onto a low fur-draped bed.
She tried again to wriggle out from under Frigi's grasp, but he held her in place with an expertise drawn from long experience. "Don't fight it, dear one—it is fate that you came to me this morning."
Her curiosity getting the better of her, Pureli asked, "Why, whatever do you mean, sir?"
"I have been so lonely here in my cave, and only a beautiful princess can free me from the hand of that wicked villain, Frigi Diti!" Which, when you think about it, was absolutely true….
"Why, he is the monster who locked my father in that cold ivory tower for so many lonely years! How did you fall into that horrible man's clutches?"
"It is a long story…surely you don't want to waste these precious moments we have together discussing that vile wretch." Frigi was not adverse to trashing himself if it would get him the desired results…and right now, Pureli was the desired results. "You must free me from my curse as your mother freed your father. My very soul is in your hands!" And he placed something between her little fingers.
"Why, sir! Whatever is this long, limp rope you have given me?"
Frigi gulped as she jerked the "rope." "Gently, my dear, gently…have you ever seen a man undressed, my princess?"
Pureli giggled at the question. "Why, sir…in our kingdom, it is far rarer to see a man dressed than un—"
"Then can you not guess what it is that you hold in your hand?"
"Oh, sir!" She made as if to drop his member, and he cupped her fingers in place.
"Please, beloved princess! Only the willing sacrifice of a virgin lover can break my sad curse and restore me to my full senses." Already he could feel his eager tool beginning to stiffen in anticipation of the delights it would soon taste.
Pureli began to stroke the soft flesh of his rod absently, and his dark-sensitive eyes could see a frown on her lovely face. "In that case, sir…" she bit her lip in a pretty gesture that drove him to distraction. "I am afraid that I cannot help you."
Frigi froze, his fingers poised above the hidden chasm they had been about to dip into. "But my dearest—don't you want to break the curse? I thought selflessness ran rampant in your family…"
Her lovely breasts heaved, and she sighed, two charming tears rolling down her perfect cheeks. "It's not that I wouldn't help you if I could…but you say that you need a virgin—"
He was momentarily taken aback. "Uhh…I see. Well…perhaps the 'willing' part can make up for anything lacking in the other area…."
Her face brightened at once. "In that case—" She spread her legs and cocked her head at a coquettish angle. "—What are you waiting for?"
Frigi took a deep breath. This was turning out much better than he had anticipated. "As you say…." He threw off the robe he was wearing and lay down beside her, pulling her onto her side facing him. "I don't seem to be quite ready for the cure yet. How about a taste of the medicine?"
With a wicked little grin, she pulled away from him and reversed her position on the bed so that her impudent little valley was level with his chin and her own rosy lips were close to his half-masted flagstaff. "Taste away," she cooed, slipping his member into the warm wet cavern of her mouth.
Frigi closed his eyes in ecstasy. They were certainly progressive teachers at the castle. He bent his head to lap from Pureli's hidden pool, and the salty sweet taste was invigorating. He could feel a tightening in his groin muscles as she worked her magic on his so-long neglected equipment. Every good tool needs servicing now and then, he reflected to himself…but he preferred full maintenance.
He pulled himself free of her with difficulty and coaxed her to lie flat on her back, his tool now fully charged and ready to function. She arched her back slightly, displaying her breasts to their best advantage, and reached up for him, her knees falling invitingly apart.
Frigi fell upon her, his stiff rod surging into her hidden delights. Her sheath was tight around his dagger, as if custom made for its housing. If she were experienced, she was not overly used…and the friction was maddening.
Her ankles twined behind his back and locked. She rose to meet his forward thrusts, and slid off his withdrawals like a well-oiled machine. He could feel the inevitable rush gathering within him, and drew back, ready to thrust home one last time and finish it off—but she slipped out from under him with a flirtatious grin and turned onto her stomach.
"There's one place I'm a virgin," she murmured over her shoulder, rising to her knees and leaning forward on the bed.
"That'll do!" Frigi crowed enthusiastically, and rammed home in the new casing.
Pureli moaned a little on his first stroke, but as he found his rhythm, and his hands came forward to clutch at her breasts, she began to meet his thrusts as eagerly as she had before.
With a shriek of triumph, Frigi spilt his offering in this unspoilt shrine. He fell across Pureli's back, exhausted. "You have done it, beloved. I can feel the ice around my heart melting away, for now I can reveal to you that I, indeed, myself, am Frigi Diti, the Wicked Wizard!"
Pureli giggled archly. "I knew that, silly. I have been looking for you ever since Mother and Father first told me the story of the Gilded Girdle. I figured anyone who could think of something so torturous as locking Father in the tower to study the Art of Love with no one to practice on must have a really evil s
ense of humor and be able to think of lovely little games to play." She pouted up at him. "I didn't want to spend my life playing with the boys when I could frolic with a real man… so I've been out looking for you every chance I got for months now. I knew I'd find you one day."
"What a naughty little girl you are!" he scolded her, with a lascivious chuckle. "I think you need a spanking!"
"Oh, yes," she agreed. "Definitely!" She sprawled on her stomach on the bed, presenting her perfect backside in readiness. With a leer, Frigi fell to the punishment as enthusiastically as he had to the pleasure...and they lived happily ever after.
But wait, you say—what about the wishes? The name of the story is "Three Wishes"! Where are the wishes?!
All right, greedy! I'll tell you the wishes. The first wish was Pureli's–and it was that this would be the day that she finally found the reclusive Frigi Diti…and we've seen how that one came true.
The second wish was Frigi Diti's, and it was that he would be able to convince the golden-haired goddess outside his cave to sleep with him…and we've seen how that one came true. (Come on, now—they did sleep…eventually.)
The third wish was Stud's (you thought I'd forgotten about him—didn't you?), and it was that if he couldn't have Pureli…he wished that darn cat was a little bigger…and you don't even want to know what came of that wish!
About the Author
Tysche Dwai is new to the world of erotica, but she isn't going anywhere soon. She also has work out from Midnight Showcases, and a piece contracted to eXtasy Books. Visit her website at www.tyschedwai.com.