Whore Queen Part 2 of 2
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Virgin, Whore, Mother, Queen: The Virgin free porn video
When Flora was fifteen, her father, the king, lost half of his weight. When she was sixteen, he couldn't rise from the bed. That's when the suitors started to arrive. Men from every part of the world. Old men and young men. Men who were royal and men who claimed to be.
Flora watched yet another bannered procession leaving the palace from her bedroom window. She felt a soft hand on her shoulder and knew without looking that it was Marie, her Lady and closest friend.
"This one was an imposter, I'm told," Marie said.
Flora laid her head on Marie's shoulder. "Not a prince, or not a man?"
Marie giggled and squeezed her. "The former. I don't believe anyone tested the latter."
Flora watched the vanquished. They followed the winding road that would lead them into the village. The man may not have been royal, but he was wealthy. The pub was likely to see a boon tonight.
There was a gentle tap on the door. Marie left Flora's side to answer it.
"His Majesty requests Princess Flora's presence."
Flora turned and saw her father's head footman. Her eyebrows furrowed for a moment. The King should be resting after such a large and prolonged audience.
"Very well," she said. Her poise was the product of sixteen years of self-restraint. She squeezed Marie's fingers as she passed and followed the footman into her father's chambers. He knocked and opened the door. Then, he backed away.
Though a man stood at the foot of the king's bed, Flora went straight to her father.
"Your Majesty, you have no color. I beg you to rest."
A cool, dry hand took hers. "I shall rest when you've met the advisor to the Prince of Veiland."
Flora's lips parted, but she quickly closed them. Veiland was a closed-off, isolated country that did not welcome outsiders. They did not come to the Games, where every other country sent athletes to compete. They were often left out of trade negotiations because they refused to participate. Ambassadors who are permitted entry, are sworn to secrecy about what they see and hear inside the nation's walls.
By the time Flora turned to the man at the foot of her father's bed, her face showed no sign of surprise. The Veilander was lean and swarthy man. His eyes were and odd shade of green and sharp as a dagger. She approached him and curtsied.
"As lovely as you said," the advisor remarked, obviously addressing the king, though his eyes hadn't left Flora. "Are you a virgin?"
It was a bold, forward question. Again, Flora only let her surprise show for a moment. She looked to her father, who nodded once.
"I am," she said.
"By technicality, or in reality?"
"I don't know what you mean," Flora said haughtily.
The advisor drew a finger over her lips. "Has this sweet mouth ever given a man pleasure?"
She slapped his hand away. "I don't believe my father asked me here to be insulted."
For the first time, the man smiled. "Let me see your hands."
Flora held them out and the advisor turned them palm up. He scrutinized them like they were pages of a book. He frowned and then smiled. He ran his finger over her thumb.
"She's strong-willed," the advisor said to the king. "The prince will not like that."
"She's always been a good, docile daughter," her father said.
Flora wasn’t sure docile was exactly the best word to describe her. However, she wasn’t a rebellious girl, so perhaps that was what her father meant. She certainly didn't contradict the king.
The advisor tilted his head and seemed to consider her. Then, he looked Flora directly in the eyes. "My prince has instructed me that if you are possibly suited to him, I should bring him a kiss from you."
Flora lifted her chin. "And, how would you collect such a thing?"
He smiled and put large, strong hands on her shoulders and leaned into her. She drew back. "Father?" she asked. "Is it your will that I should do this?"
Again, the king nodded at her once in a resigned sort of way that gave her no confidence.
She let the advisor close the distance between them. His lips pressed against her hers in an almost a chaste way; she encouraged nothing more and he asked for nothing more. Still, a strange, almost unnatural thrill shivered through her. She fisted her hands at her side to keep from touching the man. When the advisor broke contact, she forced deep breaths to maintain her calm.
His green eyes scanned her face. Beads of sweat shimmered on his upper lip. Flora had no context for what she was feeling. Warm and alive were the two things that came to mind.
He released her and she backed away a couple of steps.
"Your prince," she asked. "What is his name?"
The advisor mopped his face with a white handkerchief. "Julian."
The king still looked at the advisor with an eagle's sharpness that belied his illness. "When will I know your answer?" he asked.
"Within fourteen days," the Veilander replied, "If my prince is so inclined."
"Do I still have the right of refusal?" Flora asked. The question was out before she had truly considered it. Her father's face pinkened, but she couldn't be sorry.
"Of course, Daughter."
The advisor gave her another long look before he bowed to the king. He bowed a second time, directly to her. And then an third time to the both of them. And, finally, he left.
Flora approached her father's bed. She put an herb-soaked rag on his head. "Are you having so much trouble marrying me off?" she asked.
He smiled weakly and coughed. "No, Child. They all would have you to take back to their kingdoms. But I need a man who would stay here and be king. Put down the civil war that would certainly erupt between my cousins, if you aren't properly placed."
Flora looked at his old, weakened face. The only parent she had ever known. Her mother died in childbirth, two years after her birth. That child was supposed to have been a male, and the stillbirth was seen as a curse.
Flora sat with her father that night, feeding him and helping him drink. Later, she left so that he could be bathed and dressed for sleep, but returned in the evening to see to his brandy.
"You're a good daughter," he told her. There was sadness in his voice.
"And you're a good father," she told him, kissing his cheek.
#
Six days later, in the light of the rising sun, the black and red banners presented themselves at the palace gates. The colors and entourage hadn’t been seen in more than a decade but they were unmistakable. Veiland's Prince came to deliver his answer personally.
Black and white horses drew the royal party's enclosed coach to the gates. Knights in dark metal armor surrounded them on all sides. Flora got a little shiver at the sight of them from her bedroom window.
Marie held her while the gates opened and the Veilanders were granted entry.
Flora’s presence was requested two hours later, by note, with instructions that she should be dressed to 'receive a foreign dignitary with her father, His Majesty.'
Marie dressed Flora in an emerald gown embroidered with crystals from the Southern Mines. It was pounds heavier than her next lightest gown, but it cast rainbows all over the room and made her shimmer in low light. It was also a good way to start a conversation. Marie could rub the ache out of her shoulders later.
Flora presented herself to the dining hall. Her father was there in a strange bed that tilted up so he could eat. The foreign guests had already arrived. She only recognized the Prince's Advisor, but there were many more people dressed in the blacks and reds of Veiland.
She entered the hall and silence fell. She lifted her chin, looking at nobody but her father, and curtsied for him first. He rewarded her with a faint smile.
"Flora," he said in a weak voice, "This is Julian, Prince of Veiland."
She turned.
His hair was dark, straight, and brushed his shoulders. His eyes were bright, bright blue, noticeable even from across the room. He wore only black and, when he crossed the room to her, he moved like liquid. She expected a drawn, sharp, hoary version of a man and this was anything but. He was at least fifteen years her senior, but only in a way that made him seem more experienced. Not more aged.
He stood before her and bowed. It was so quiet, it seemed like everyone in the room – or perhaps the world -- must be holding their collective breaths.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sir,” Flora said in a low voice.
She curtsied and offered her hand. Julian kissed it with soft, open lips. A warmth started at her knuckles, where his lips touched her skin, and spread up her arm. She met his eyes. He had a little smile, like he knew how he was affecting her.
"The pleasure is certainly mine, Princess," Julian replied. Even his voice was alluring: soft as silk and as rich as velvet.
She withdrew her hand as politely as she could, hating that it cut her off from the warm pleasure but glad that she could regain her senses. He didn’t let her stray from his touch for long, though; his hand was at her elbow, warming her skin through the sleeve of her gown. Julian pulled out the chair that was next to her father’s chair.
Everyone found their seats and their voices.
Even with the awkwardness, Flora was well-schooled in the social graces. She turned to Julian and asked, “Did you have a difficult journey? You must have traveled through the night.”
“My only hardship was the time it took to get here. Once I received your kiss, I was rather anxious to return.”
“Did your advisor pass it on to you in the same way it was received?” she asked teasingly.
There wasn’t a hint of laughter in his face. “Yes. Every innocent breath.”
Flora flushed, something that she wasn’t particularly accustomed to doing. Luckily, she didn’t have to find her voice. Julian kept speaking.
“I still find it difficult to believe that you’re a virgin at marrying age. I thought such girls, especially royal girls, were mythical things, like unicorns."
Flora decided that this was perhaps not the time to mention that she'd also twice seen a unicorn.
"I am insulated," she said. "And I've always known my duty."
"In my country, duty is confirmed."
Flora lifted her chin and didn't hide the coolness in her voice. "Confirmed how?"
Her changed attitude made him scrutinize her even more closely. "We have brought a physician."
"Really?"
"To ensure--"
Flora lifted her voice. "Father, am I to be so dishonored that a physician is going to confirm my virginity?"
"Of course not," the king replied, turning from his conversation.
"Of course she will," said the prince's advisor.
Low outrage rumbled on every side. The members of the royal household would not have Flora’s word doubted. Nor would they have her innocence compromised by an exam.
The Veilanders would allow no marriage to proceed without a physical confirmation of purity. They pointed out that such questions can only be answered before the wedding night, not after.
Finally, Flora stood and held up her hands. The first silence in fifteen minutes fell over the hall. "Very well," she said in a choked voice. "I’ll submit to your examination. I must insist, though, that it be one conducted by a female physician or midwife.”
“We can accommodate that,” the prince's advisor said.
“Good,” she said coldly. “Then, when next we meet, my word will be confirmed. Perhaps you can determine a way to confirm yours. That you can bring peace to my father's kingdom."
She left the room without even being served her meal. Marie, who had been sitting with the other attendants, scurried to follow her. She could almost feel the prince's vivid blue eyes against her back as she left.
#
Flora reported to the guest room of the Veiland physician and knocked on the door. She wasn't prepared to be met by a fairly young, fairly attractive woman. When Flora curtsied, the woman laughed.
"Oh, come on in, you. I'm supposed to answer two questions about your royal privates."
Flora tried not to show her shock at the blunt language. She hopped up on the bed where the lady patted. Flora laid back and spread her feet. She forewent undergarments so she wouldn’t have the embarrassment of having to remove them in front of someone. But, she was still very tense.
“There are two questions you’re supposed to answer?” Flora asked, more to ease her nervousness than out of curiosity.
“Yes,” the physician said. “First, to determine your virginity. I've lubricated my fingers. Try to relax.”
Fingertips prodded Flora gently and peeled her open. There was a light touch around her vagina. Then, fingers dipped into her and felt around shallowly.
"There it is," the lady-doctor told her. Her finger caressed the inside of Flora’s passage in a way that wasn’t unpleasant. "Untouched, just as you said.”
There was relief, even though Flora knew that she hadn’t been lying. “Thank you," she breathed. "What was the second thing you need to know?"
"Your disposition," the doctor told her.
Fingers withdrew from her body but didn’t leave her flesh. They continued to stroke the outside of her. Around her vagina. Over her smoothest skin. The gentle touch sent thrills and shivers all over her.
Flora’s breath came out as a shudder. “What of my disposition?” she gasped.
The fingers continued their slow circling. They found the most sensitive knob of flesh, one that Flora rarely noticed and when she did, she ignored. The lady played with it lightly. "Your prince asks me if you are frigid," the doctor said, watching Flora’s breathlessness.
Flora’s legs opened wider. Whatever the doctor was doing was almost intolerably delicious. It wasn’t sex; she knew at least that much.
“What does that mean?” Flora asked.
The fingers found a rhythm against her sex. “He asks if you are capable of enjoying him,” the doctor answered. The fingers slid over her; Flora felt swollen and wet.
“Oh,” Flora breathed.
“Do you like this, Princess?”
“Yes,” she gasped. “But, I don’t think this is something I’m supposed to be doing.”
The fingers worked harder. "Why not?" the doctor asked calmly.
“I don’t know,” Flora breathed. "Because it feels too nice...."
The touch went softer and started to avoid her most pleasing spot. Fingers played around her vagina. Flora had a strange sense of deflation. Almost disappointment.
"He's going to love you," the doctor said, taking her hand away.
Flora closed her legs, feeling the strain in her hips. “I’ve passed your tests, then?” she asked, her voice still breathy.
“You have. I’ll talk to the prince," she said in a smooth voice.
Flora and sat up. "What are you going to tell him?"
"That you’re certainly a virgin and as innocent as any I’ve ever seen."
Flora breathed a sigh of relief.
"Also, that I imagine he's going to enjoy your education," she added, smiling.
#
That night, Flora had her first dream of Julian. She was entering the throne room, expecting to see her father on the ornate chair. Instead, Julian sat there, shirtless.
He didn’t say anything but she felt a summons. And as she walked to the throne, he climbed down to meet her.
Their lips fit against one another like a tongue in a groove. He dragged the bodice of her gown down, not quite revealing her breasts.
"My prince," she gasped, as his mouth nipped at her collarbone.
"Your King," he corrected, pulling her up the steps to the throne. He sat in it, unlacing his pants and releasing his sex. She knew enough to know what it was but not enough to have expectations around size or shape.
He pulled her astride his lap, just behind his erection. His hands were rough with her gown, dragging a breast free. Every touch on her skin warmed her. His mouth found her nipple and drew on it. His lips were like fire.
She arched into his mouth a little. Solid arms held her. Hands pulled at the lacing that ran down the back of her gown, freeing her other breast. He mouthed one nipple and fondled the other. She mewled in pleasure, the sound echoing in the throne room.
“You’re mine,” he growled against her skin.
The throb that the doctor had teased out of her ballooned without stimulation. Flora clutched at his coarse hair. His hand went between her legs. When he touched her wet, ready sex, her eyes opened in surprise.
#
"You were yelling, my Lady." Marie leaned over Flora. Flora blinked, trying to separate dream from reality. Marie brought her back to the present.
"It was a dream," Flora said, finally. She wasn't sure she could rightly call it a nightmare.
“You’re awake now,” Marie soothed, stroking her hair with a soft hand.
"Would you share my bed?" Flora asked. “I don’t want to be alone.”
Marie climbed in as she had hundreds of times before. She put her arms around Flora and squeezed her. "Your mother again?" she asked.
"No." Flora said. "Julian. I’m afraid he makes me anxious."
"He makes me anxious, too," Marie said. “The way he looks at you.”
Flora tried to see Marie’s expression in the dim light. “How does he look at me?”
“Like you’re not a lady,” she answered in an affronted tone.
“Lately, I’ve felt like I’m not,” Flora confessed. "With the medical tests and all of these questions about my virginity."
Marie held her tightly. Flora finally started to relax from her dream. "Don't ever doubt," she murmured in the princess's ear.
Flora felt a pulse in her core that she now recognized as sexual. On an impulse, and without consulting her father, she asked. "Will you be my Lady when I am Queen?"
Marie hid her face in Flora's ruffled nightgown. "If you ask me."
"I ask you now."
She lifted her face. "Yes, Princess."
Flora kissed Marie's lips in an unusual moment of unrestraint. Her lips were the softest things that Flora had ever felt. Guilt hit immediately.
Flora pulled back and apologized. "I'm so sorry, Marie. I'm not myself."
"Please, my Lady. Don't be."
Marie’s soft lips pressed against Flora’s and stayed there. Flora’s arousal went from throbbing to boiling. She still felt the effects of her dream. Marie’s light, yielding femininity was the perfect foil to the aggressive image of Julian.
She kissed Marie with an open mouth and felt the girl’s tongue sweep over hers. Gentle fingers explored over her nightgown. The Princess traced her fingers over Marie in return. The curve of her elegant neck and the thin shoulder in thin cotton. Their kisses grew more exploratory. Flora sighed against Marie's mouth.
"I love you so, Princess," Marie said, kissing her chin and her jaw.
The wild pleasure around Flora's every thought of Julian was nothing like this silky worship. It made her body sing. Between her legs, the arousal became urgent. Flora wanted nothing more than Marie’s touch there, finishing what the doctor had started.
But Marie didn't offer it. Instead, they settled their heads on the same pillow and kissed each other until Flora yawned and Marie giggled.
"Sleep," said the Lady.
She stroked the Princess's arm until she fell asleep.
#
A week passed. The King and his men negotiated with Julian and his men. Flora couldn't imagine what was taking so long.
Each night she dreamed of Julian. Each night, he ravaged her: her breasts, her lips, her backside. Each night she woke to the promise of his touch between her legs. A hand that found its way under miles of fabric, a mouth that gave an impish smile before it disappeared beneath her skirts
Every night, her cries brought Marie. Every night she climbed into bed with Flora. Their touch became bolder, tracing smooth, feathery lines over their nightgowns and on each other's breasts. They rose the gooseflesh on their arms and watched their nipples pucker in pleasure through the soft material.
One evening, Marie told her, "I wish you needn't be married."
"I wish that, too," Flora whispered. "At least not for a while."
Finally, after eight days, a note arrived from the king, summoning her to luncheon the following day. She would hear the terms of her marriage, give her consent, and become engaged. Her knees gave way but a chair caught her.
It was what she expected but she couldn't hold off the fear.
#
Flora sat on her father's left. Julian sat on the king's right. After her onslaught of dreams, she could barely look at her husband-to-be. It felt like he already knew how she looked naked.
She focused, instead, on her food and the long list of agreements associated with her marriage. The royal army would be supplemented by the Veiland army, to fortify it against civil war. Veiland treasury would be used to help rebuild towns already harmed by the conflict. Both actions were seen as a show of solidarity between the countries. An entryway to Veiland would be built into the wall that bordered their two countries.
When the agreements for her wedding were announced, though, Flora couldn't help but look at her father helplessly. They stipulated that there must be a confirmed pregnancy in the first year, or the wedding could be annulled at the prince's discretion. Doctors caring for the royal pregnancy must be from Veiland. All practices surrounding the birth must be in accordance to the customs of the father.
Julian would return to Veiland for one week of every month to attend to his duties there. His wife would remain at the palace. During his absence, Julian's brother, Lucas, would see to the palace needs and work as his surrogate.
However, it was when they arrived at the day-to-day function of the palace, that Flora felt the flame of temper in her chest. All palace staff would be replaced. Flora's ladies would be as well.
"No," Flora finally said, interrupting the reading.
"Daughter?" the king asked, his voice weak. It tempered her.
"My ladies stay." She could only think of the offer she made Marie. She wouldn't recind that offer.
There was utter silence.
She looked directly at Julian for the first time and worked very hard to make her tone supplicating. The hunger in his expression nearly stopped her mouth, but she pushed ahead. "I do not expect to have my father much longer. You are replacing the staff I've known since childhood. Please, my prince."
He contemplated her. She could tell he enjoyed having the advantage. "I'll make that concession. As a wedding gift."
Relief flooded through her. "Thank you."
"A second wedding gift, actually."
Flora looked at him questioningly and he held out a hand to her, across the table, inviting her to stand. She did as he bade her and he came around the table to her. Flora thought that her imagination had intensified the memory of the heat around his touch, but the second his bare hand contacted her bare elbow, warmth spread through her.
Softly, in her ear, he whispered. "The report from my physician makes me eager for our wedding night." She looked up at him, surprised he would be so brazen here. He spoke louder. "You've provided me with proof of your purity. In return, as you asked, I offer my proof that I can bring peace to your father's kingdom."
Veiland guards brought two figures through the doors of the hall. Flora furrowed her eyebrows and then she recognized them. Her father's cousins. It had been years since she saw them in person, years since they called for the insurrection against her father. A general gasp went up in the room.
"Kneel," Julian said in a conversational tone.
The two men fell to the ground. Flora heard their knees crack against marble.
"Pledge your loyalty," he instructed, also in a light voice.
"Long live the king," said the first man.
"Now and forever," said the second.
Flora's father had tears in his eyes. She couldn't judge if it was relief or sadness.
"Take them to the prison," Julian instructed. "The king can decide what to do with them."
While the men were escorted out, Julian, again, whispered in her ear. "Are we settled, Princess?"
"Yes," she breathed back.
His lips brushed the edge of her ear as he drew back. She struggled to manage her poise. He helped her into her seat and resumed his own without touching her more.
"I will return to be married in two weeks," said Julian.
Flora turned quickly to her father. A typical engagement was months, at least. Enough time for the couple to become accustomed to one another. In two weeks, Flora would have her wedding night with a stranger.
"Two weeks is acceptable," the king said.
Flora had to concentrate to make certain that her distress wasn't evident on her face. She nodded, as well. Asking for a delay would be an embarrassment, especially given her father's poor health.
Dessert was served and a rich tea laced with liquor served with it. Conversation seemed easer around the table, now that the deal was struck. She managed the polite congratulations with what she hoped was a delighted-looking smile.
Soon, Julian held up his hands to speak.
"Your Majesty," he said to the king, "in my country it is the custom to seal the marriage promise with a kiss. Would you indulge me?"
Flora's heart quickened. She swallowed.
"Of course," the king said, looking to Flora.
She stood, even though she felt dizzy. Julian came to her side of the table almost too quickly. He touched her elaborate braids and ran a soft finger down the back of her neck. A low hum started around her, like a swarm of wasps. She looked away from Julian long enough to know it was the men from Veiland making the sound. His hand at the base of her skull turned her face back to his.
He inhaled next to her lips and closed his eyes. "Still so sweet," he whispered. "But a little less innocent, perhaps."
Flora grew warm, thinking of her Lady. But, instead, she murmured, "Your physician was thorough."
He smiled.
When his lips touched hers, the first thing she thought was that they were nothing like Marie's. The skin was rough; the touch of him was not yielding. His mouth urged hers open. The humming grew louder. He held her head and possessed her mouth in a way that set her unwilling body aflame.
Julian broke the kiss that he had started. She felt her flush and saw him smile at it. The humming stopped.
"Until I come back for you, sleep alone in your bed," he whispered. "Marie is not as innocent as you."
She was so taken aback, she couldn't answer. Her flush certainly deepened and became painful. It was only when he gave her a stern, expectant look that she found her voice.
"Yes, my Prince," she whispered.
He nodded to her, his amused smile returning. The Veilanders stood only after Julian had backed away from Flora. They left as one, black-and-red-clad unit. Flora sat back in her chair, noticing how weak her legs were. She and her father met each other's eyes but neither one spoke.
Kaidence
- 06.12.2022
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