Full Leather Fear Love Loathing in the Magic KingdomChapter 2
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Household Duties In The Kingdom Of Hirsutia free porn video
A fragment transcribed from the Royal archives
I am in thrall to the Crown Princess of Hirsutia.
Royal ladies of her line have exceptionally meaty vulvas and their forest domains are extensive in every sense. After a long day hunting astride a great horse, stopping only occasionally eat, drink, urinate or defecate, ladies of her rank expect their pudenda to be ceremonially cleansed by a maid or, in my case, a male equerry.
It is my duty to kneel and suck the entirety of the Royal piss flaps and clit hood into my mouth. She is so well endowed in this respect that it is not then easy to work my tongue systematically into every crease and crevice without gagging or withdrawing, both signs of the greatest disrespect. However, by dint of rinsing in my copious saliva and constantly swallowing, I have become very proficient in my ministrations.
I have learned to dip deep into the Royal vagina with my tongue and then curl it back to suck every vestige of discharge to the surface. As you may imagine the harder I work the more the Royal jelly flows from her and it can be hard to gauge when my duties are accomplished.
As I perform my duties, you will understand that my nostrils must, perforce, rest deep in the Royal minge. That is unless Her Royal Highness is so fatigued as to wish to recline immediately on a divan, in which case she has requested me to adopt a position which I would have thought quite improper without her express instruction. On such occasions I am to clamber over the Royal torso, presenting my backside to the princess's visage.
It seems to me most improper, but Her Highness has indicated to me that she finds that very impropriety most gratifying. And so it is that I regularly exchange the musky, ammonia scent of the Hirsutian Royal bush, for the yeasty cocktail that emanates from the Anus Mirabilis or Royal anus.
At first I was very dainty in avoiding contact with the puckered rim of one of so high a rank, but on repeated occasions as I worked my tongue into the depths of the Royal slot, the princess has sighed and placed her hands firmly on the back of my head, demonstrating that my nose may rest on, and in fact partially inside, the Right Royal rectum.
I must confess that this proximity is most gratifying to me as well as my Royal mistress and it is as though she is back in the hunt, rising and falling, forcing her lower body hard into the saddle and driving my flaring nostrils deep into her with every thrust.
You may have the impression that I am a cold and unimaginative courtier, impervious to such experiences, but I can tell you now that when I rise to leave the Royal presence, with my face reeking of the most womanly scents known to man, my own rod is so rigid, so pulsing with a****l vigour that I fear that I will burst my breeches.
Happily the office of Cunt-Cleanser to the Royal Snatch is bestowed only on those who are of noble rank, and I have plenty of servants of my own to give me relief in my turn.
Retreating from a most heated performance of my official duties this afternoon, I came upon my wife's maid Betty. I instantly required her to kneel and satisfy my needs. She knows this work well and she quickly achieved my deliverance in a fountain of thick semen. In truth I need little intervention to bring me to my fulfilment. I need only think back to the sensation of the Princess’s downy thigh tops rhythmically caressing my ears, or the insistent thrusting of her love-button to bring the inseminating liquid boiling from my ballocks onto Betty’s soft breasts, which are thrust up by her tight corsets and heaving like the sea in her own excitement.
How she manages her own relief after such hot work I have never thought to ask...
I am in thrall to the Crown Princess of Hirsutia.
Royal ladies of her line have exceptionally meaty vulvas and their forest domains are extensive in every sense. After a long day hunting astride a great horse, stopping only occasionally eat, drink, urinate or defecate, ladies of her rank expect their pudenda to be ceremonially cleansed by a maid or, in my case, a male equerry.
It is my duty to kneel and suck the entirety of the Royal piss flaps and clit hood into my mouth. She is so well endowed in this respect that it is not then easy to work my tongue systematically into every crease and crevice without gagging or withdrawing, both signs of the greatest disrespect. However, by dint of rinsing in my copious saliva and constantly swallowing, I have become very proficient in my ministrations.
I have learned to dip deep into the Royal vagina with my tongue and then curl it back to suck every vestige of discharge to the surface. As you may imagine the harder I work the more the Royal jelly flows from her and it can be hard to gauge when my duties are accomplished.
As I perform my duties, you will understand that my nostrils must, perforce, rest deep in the Royal minge. That is unless Her Royal Highness is so fatigued as to wish to recline immediately on a divan, in which case she has requested me to adopt a position which I would have thought quite improper without her express instruction. On such occasions I am to clamber over the Royal torso, presenting my backside to the princess's visage.
It seems to me most improper, but Her Highness has indicated to me that she finds that very impropriety most gratifying. And so it is that I regularly exchange the musky, ammonia scent of the Hirsutian Royal bush, for the yeasty cocktail that emanates from the Anus Mirabilis or Royal anus.
At first I was very dainty in avoiding contact with the puckered rim of one of so high a rank, but on repeated occasions as I worked my tongue into the depths of the Royal slot, the princess has sighed and placed her hands firmly on the back of my head, demonstrating that my nose may rest on, and in fact partially inside, the Right Royal rectum.
I must confess that this proximity is most gratifying to me as well as my Royal mistress and it is as though she is back in the hunt, rising and falling, forcing her lower body hard into the saddle and driving my flaring nostrils deep into her with every thrust.
You may have the impression that I am a cold and unimaginative courtier, impervious to such experiences, but I can tell you now that when I rise to leave the Royal presence, with my face reeking of the most womanly scents known to man, my own rod is so rigid, so pulsing with a****l vigour that I fear that I will burst my breeches.
Happily the office of Cunt-Cleanser to the Royal Snatch is bestowed only on those who are of noble rank, and I have plenty of servants of my own to give me relief in my turn.
Retreating from a most heated performance of my official duties this afternoon, I came upon my wife's maid Betty. I instantly required her to kneel and satisfy my needs. She knows this work well and she quickly achieved my deliverance in a fountain of thick semen. In truth I need little intervention to bring me to my fulfilment. I need only think back to the sensation of the Princess’s downy thigh tops rhythmically caressing my ears, or the insistent thrusting of her love-button to bring the inseminating liquid boiling from my ballocks onto Betty’s soft breasts, which are thrust up by her tight corsets and heaving like the sea in her own excitement.
How she manages her own relief after such hot work I have never thought to ask...
Trisha
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