Written by Elric the Albino
Her imperial majesty, Princess Yuna, only daughter of the Emperor, stood before me.
The crowd fell silent. In her hand was the Sword of Honor, the prize of the tournament victor.
She stood atop a small flight of white steps, resplendent in a shimmering silver gown, her long blonde hair falling about her shoulders. She was in her early twenties, and she was the lady of my dreams.
'Come forward, warrior, and claim your prize.' Her musical voice rang out in the sudden silence.
I climbed the steps, eyes downward respectfully. I knelt before her. I studied the jewelled pommel of the sword in her slender white hand. She eased her hand forward, and I kissed it.
I stood up. She faced me, a faint smile upon her lovely face.
'I declare you victor of the Tournament of Swords.' She handed me the sword. I took it. The crowd erupted in deafening applause.
In the pommel of the sword, I had been told to look for a note. And find it I did. It read thus :
Congratulations again, Azwyn of Darkheim, on your second consecutive victory in the Tournament of Swords.
I would be honoured if you would accept my invitation of a private dinner (non-formal dress) at the Imperial Palace tomorrow evening, 8 pm, as per last year.
Imperial Princess Yuna Illeia.
Thus I found myself the following evening led through the vast interior of the Imperial Palace to a throne room where her ladyship sat reading alone. The guards were dismissed, leaving us alone.
I looked at her. She wore a long, flowing gown this time of purest gold, matching her hair. Above the waist she wore an intricately embroidered sleeved lace bodice of filmy gauze. The hem of the gown reached to just above her ankles. She wore golden high heeled shoes upon her feet.
For a moment she paid me no heed, and then she put the book aside, sighed quietly and glanced over at me. As always under that stare my breath was taken from me, my heart was made to beat faster.
'Well Master Azwyn. You retain your coveted title, and we meet again.'
She smiled faintly, demurely.
I bowed. 'Yes Highness. And might I say the greatest reward is the pleasure of your company for another evening.'
What would the evening hold for me ? Last year had been incredible enough.
Her blue eyes glittered mischievously.
'Oh indeed ?'
I bowed again.
She giggled. 'Undress warrior.'
I looked up at her, nodded. I had known the meaning of the reference to 'non formal dress' in her invitation. She wanted me to dress in warrior's garb; brown leather loincloth and coverup kilt, boots, and mail shirt.
I slung the mail shirt over my head and tossed it onto the floor.
Eyes locked on hers, I unhooked the kilt. Her smile broadened as she eyed me speculatively.
'mmm. Continue.' She breathed with a smirk.
With my most charming smile, I untied the cords holding up my loincloth. And now I stood before her in only my boots. My cock, a proud and erect nine inches, sat up at a sharp angle, pointing directly at her.
She sighed and shook her head. 'My my, you really are something.'
Her Imperial Majesty rose and descended the steps, her high heels clicking as she came. She walked toward me Ð her amusement for the evening Ð until she stood not a few inches from me. I felt her lovely hand encircle my prick gently but firmly, and struggled to remain calm.
Her hand caressed my shaft, her palm pinning the head of my prick to my abdomen.
Leaning forward, her lips met mine.
A long, sensuous kiss as she softly wanked me.
'This belongs to me.' She stated softly, factually.
'Yes your Highness.'
'I have claimed it as my own. I trust you have remained celibate as I ordered.'
'Yes your Highness.'
Yes. One long year, with only the thought of her to keep me going.
She took one more long, lingering look into my eyes and, with another giggle, turned on her heel and began walking back to her throne. She took hold of her hair in her fingers and shook it out. Then, walking slowly away from me, her hands untied the laces at her back and with a smooth motion she peeled the top half of her lace gown of her body, revealing her creamy white back. Then the gown slipped off her as she pushed it gently down off her hips.
I stared after her with aching longing. I had not quite recalled the extent of her beauty. She walked away toward her throne, clad now only in her heels, elbow length golden gloves, a golden lace garter belt, and matching lace top stockings. Her sweet ass swaying seductively, she glanced over her shoulder at me and giggled again.
I watched her ascend the steps.
Oh Princess Sweet.
She reached the top and with one hand on the back of her throne, swung around to face me. And there, between the straps of her garter belt, her neatly trimmed triangular thatch of golden womanhood beckoned.
'Have you been thinking of me warrior ?', she cooed.
I gazed stupidly at her.
She laughed, a gentle yet mocking laughter.
Regally, she seated herself into her throne, and crossed her legs.
Her eyes closed, and I watched as she played with her soft small breasts, kneading them gently.
'Yes Your Highness. I have not stopped thinking of you.'
She giggled to herself.
She beckoned to me with her finger. I came over, began ascending the steps.
The stairway to heaven.
I reached the last step.
A lever at the side of the throne allowed her to recline back, so that she lay back at an angle of about 60 degrees.
She placed her hands behind her head and lay for a moment watching me, her hair spilling out all over the rich red velvet of the upholstery. Her spread right hand caressed her pussy, the middle finger inserting itself between the lips.
'You're dying to fuck me aren't you ?'
I nodded. 'Yes Your Highness.'
'I'm a virgin Imperial Princess. I don't do that sort of thing.'
'Of course not your Highness.'
She motioned for me to come forward, until my shins touched the cushioning between her parted legs. She opened a hidden cache in the armrest of the throne and withdrew a jar of clear ointment, gathered some into her white hand, and promptly began rubbing it along my shaft. I felt a faint burning sensation.
'This will make sure you don't get too excited.'
Grasping my ass in her small hands, she leaned forward and took about half of my length into her mouth. I felt come surging from my balls, but then the burning sensation from the ointment seemed to hold it back. I gasped.
Gently she swirled her tongue around my cock, for a minute or so. Then she stopped. She lay back. I gazed down at her incredible body.
'On the other hand, you have won the Tournament of Swords twice, and you are extremely fuckable.'
'Thank you you're Highness.'
She sighed. 'Such a shame you're only a commoner. With no title to your name.'
I shook my head. 'Alas no.'
She raised her right foot and teased my cock with her stiletto heel.
'Are you willing to undertake my usual Ôlittle test' for such a reward ?'
'Oh yes Your Highness. Yes Ð'
'Do not speak too hastily. You won last time, much to my annoyance. This time, I shall be merciless.'
I nodded. 'Yes, I understand.'
'I beg your pardon ?'
'Yes I understand Your Highness.' I gasped.
Her foot massaging had stopped. She stared at me icily. Then her expression softened. 'Come then. Let us have dinner before your trial begins.'
We had dinner beside the fire in her private chambers. I wore the same outfit, minus the loincloth, as per her directions, while she changed into a red transparent evening gown. The meal was sumptuous. We drank rich red wine and ate roast fowl, dumplings, and asparagus. We talked about my victory.
Very suddenly I began to feel a strong lethargy come over me, and I knew immediately that her Highness had arranged for my food to be drugged with a slow-working sedative of some sort. I remember her sitting there, reclined in her chair, watching me with a wicked smile as she drank, laughing at my state.
Then I fell to the floor. From afar I heard her voice.
I was drifting, drifting. I was spiraling out of control.
And then I was in a huge dark room, perhaps an underground cavern. I knew I was in her dungeon now. I vision of such loveliness met my eyes, that I momentarily failed to notice that I was chained by both hands to posts either side of me, my arms stretched out tautly, entirely naked, my cock imprisoned in a strange device that made my growing erection very painful.
The vision that met me was that of Princess Yuna walking toward me clad in a most erotic outfit. It consisted of a black leather garter belt attached to sheer black lace top stockings, black high heels, black leather armcuffs that went from her wrists to about an inch or so before her elbows, a black leather belt studded with small diamonds, a black leather collar studded with the same, and a harness of black leather that wound around her tits, attaching to either side of her collar.
A long length of thick chain was wound around her neck and shoulders as though she were parading a pet snake. Her hair was pulled back from her angelic face and tied at the top with a hair band to give it a bob-tail effect. Her eyes were lightly made up with bluish rouge, and her lips were painted ice blue, matching her eyes.
I groaned despite myself at the sight of her. My cock, instantly, ragingly erect at this wonderful visual stimulus before it, was straining against the device slung around it. The more it grew, the more small teeth in the rim of the thing bit into my flesh.
She laughed gaily, walking slowly toward me. I stared at her little pussy transfixed.
'Look at me warrior Ð am I not worth suffering for ?'
I groaned. 'Oh yes your Highness.' I managed.
She stopped before me. I stared at her pussy, framed by the two thin garter belt straps. 'You can look, but you can't touch. Not unless you're man enough to pass my trial.' She said in her little girl voice.
Her pussy was wet. She seemed to have smeared some silvery ointment around the lips of her cunt.
'It's funny isn't it ? All those girls who watched you, fantasised about you. Azwyn Darkhelm Ð Master of the Sword. Yet here you are with only one thought. You think not of them, but of me. They will never have you, for I have claimed your body as my property.'
I could think of nothing to say.
'Your cock hurts doesn't it ? Poor baby.'
She circled me slowly. The she came back into view.
In her hands she held the instrument with which she intended to test my endurance. A long, wicked looking whip. She had used it briefly on me at our last encounter. I knew it to be magical in nature.
With catlike grace, she raised it and brought it down smoothly, whistling through the air angrily like a buzzing bee. It struck me across my left shoulder, knocking me back and filling my mind with blinding searing pain.
Then another. Across the right shoulder. Pinpoint in its accuracy. She knew well how to use it.
My world became a blur. I lost count of the blows.
My eyes struggled to see through the blood dripping from my forehead. She had stopped, at least for the moment. She walked toward me, whip trailing behind her. Then she was before me, her naked crotch inches from my face, eye level with it.
I knew what I had to do. I buried my face in her womanhood and used my tongue to bring her pleasure. Before long, she was screaming out in delicious ecstasy.
When she had used me to her satisfaction, she walked back to her original place. 'Even now, in your haze of pain, you can think of nothing but fucking me.'
Her hips swayed, her firm ass flexed as she walked, sensuously, slowly, away.
She was right. My entire body stung with the numerous lashings it had received from her whip. My cock was an aching mess, as those horrible teeth dug into it.
She turned to face me, smiling, and laughed.
'Look away from me, and maybe your boner will subside.'
But I could not.
'Your Highness. Please. I beg you. End this torture.'
Her eyes softened a little, but her smile faded.
'Are you willing to run the gauntlet to touch my perfect body warrior ?'
It meant possible death. But I had done it once before, and I could do it again.
Thirty yards between heaven and I. She could wield that whip with amazing accuracy and deadly precision. From birth, she'd been trained thoroughly in its use. And I knew its magic sapped a man's mental as well as physical resolve.
While she waited for my reply, she toyed happily with it, casually flipping it this way and that, smashing it against the floor either side of her with superb skill.
I nodded. 'Yes Your Highness.'
She sighed. 'I'm ready for you this time, Azwyn. You shall not win this contest.'
I ignored her remark, and took a step toward her.
I still do not know where that first blow came from. I never even saw her raise the whip. Just a blur and then incredible pain as the thing bit into my exposed groin. I fell to the floor, howling in agony.
I heard her laughter.
I rose, and somehow managed to duck the next two blows, with a dexterity I didn't even know I possessed, as one does when they are in grave danger.
For a brief moment I caught her steely gaze. I could see she wanted to kill me now for sure. There was no mercy in her eyes.
I took two more, one in the side of the head and across my left arm, and one in the chest and face. I saw stars, stumbled, but managed to cover more ground. Everything was in agonising slow motion.
She was close enough to smell now. I could sense her arousal at the prospect of both killing and of fucking me. There was no laughter now, just a merciless sneer.
'You fucking worm,' she hissed, as she flung the whip around my waist, coiling me tightly for a second, and then she pulled firmly on it to send me crashing to the floor in front of her, a couple of steps away. As I got to my feet, she took a step froward to stand right over me, hands on hips.
I gazed up at her, a vision of feminine power and beauty. The unattainable lady.
'You lose Azwyn.'
She placed the heel of her boot firmly on my mouth and pushed it in. I was crying like a baby.
'Suck it you worthless piece of shit.'
And I sucked.
'It'll take better men than you to win my affections.'
The taste of my blood mixed with the leather. And as I ruminated on my failure to win the woman of my dreams, I felt a warm trickle on my head and my back.
Her Highness was laughing as she pissed on me.
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