The King’s Daughter, Chapter 1
Introduction:
My first story in a while, rather vanilla in comparison to my older stuff I deleted.
Informed earlier in the day I had been betrothed to a woman of a faraway island, I struggled to sleep. Distressed, I had decided to go for a walk in my grey-blue silk bathrobe, eyeing the servant girls that passed, all as diverse as trees in autumn. They chuckled to themselves, some eyeing the bit of my broad chest exposed by the robe. Our continent had broken off from the world some decades ago, giving us a diverse population (for which I was very thankful) and left us with some modern conveniences and the fashion sense of the old world, but not much more. The water was clean but fires still kept the palace alight.
As the servant girls returned to their wing for the night, I saw one struggling to reach a lit brazier on the wall. Her hair was as red as the fire she reached for, skin pale and soft as the moonlight spilling through the stained glass windows, several years younger than I. She stood on her tiptoes, a difficult feat, given the servants’ uniform white wedge sandals. I examined her from there, eyeing her slim legs, shapely rump, well-toned arms, and breasts of a healthy size, covered by a semiformal black dress, the skirt of which reached halfway down her thighs. She struggled to reach for the fire still, burning the tip of her middle finger.
I touched her bare shoulder and she turned her head in shock, somehow unaware of my presence until then. He shock faded and she smiled politely. “Prince Daniel! I didn’t see you.”
I grabbed her wrist and kissed the burn. “Dan,” I demanded. “What’s the problem?”
“I was lighting the fire earlier and my necklace came loose. I can’t get it out.”
My eyes drifted down her back as she spoke, until she looked back at me. Our grey eyes met, the symbol of the royal bloodline. Knowing I was at least a head taller than her, I knew what to do and Without a second thought, I reached into the fire amid her protests. “Sir, please, it’s not your place!” My hand emerged less than a second later with the silver chain, the hook slightly damaged. I reached around the girl’s neck, buckling it in front, my knuckles gliding along her collarbone. She gazed up thankfully, sheepishly.
“Why couldn’t one of your friends help?” I motioned with my head down the hall the other servants had left down.
“It’s all to do with um… they think I get special treatment, being the king’s daughter,” she feigned a chuckle, her distress obvious. “I don’t think I’ve ever even been in the same wing as him.”
My voice softened to almost a coo as I leaned closer, trapping her against the brown brick wall. “For what it’s worth, even I barely see him. As for that special treatment…” I knelt before her.
“No, sir, please. Get up! The prince shouldn’t be-” she was silent once my head slipped under her skirt. I gave her a kiss before parting her lips with an upward lick, the tip of my tongue flicking her clit. Her knees weakened and I scooped them over my shoulders, her back against the wall. I tilted my head back, using my nose to part her, followed by a deep lick. Her legs quivered against my neck, and I dove in, my tongue scooping out every drop of flavor as I made out with her pussy as passionately as if it were her other lips.
I was nearly bursting through my robe, and decided I needed something more from her. I set her down, stood up, and grabbed her chain necklace, pulling her behind me. She followed like an eager puppy. When we got to my chamber, I pushed her onto my wide canopy bed. She nuzzled a pillow, no doubt shocked at the softness compared to the ones in the servant quarters, as I grabbed a knife. When she saw me approaching, fire in my eyes, she flinched as the blunt edge of the cold blade ran up the middle of her torso, slicing her dress open. I threw the tattered remains aside, then kissed the roof of each foot once I threw aside her sandals. She snickered, her tongue between her teeth.
My robe was in a pile behind me now, and I leaned forward, staring down at her, reaching for the collar chained to the bedpost nearest to her, used to keep non-royal consorts in their place. Ironically, I had never used it on the three servant girls I’d slept with, but the black leather trinket suited my new partner. She pulled her hair to the side and arched her neck, smiling as I fastened it tightly around her. She settled in, and I leaned back to straddle her.
My tip was oozing with precum, and she licked her lips when she saw. As much as I wanted to let her taste, it felt like my duty to take her more… traditionally tonight. I was shocked with myself for even considering another night with her, but not dismayed. “This feels right,” I told myself as I pushed myself inside her. She squirmed, tendrils of red moving with her wincing, smiling face. I stroked her breast with the back of my hand and gazed into her eyes, then pulled out and entered her again, watching her back arch.
I spent the next several minutes gliding in and out with fluid movements, occasionally leaning in for a kiss. She eventually raised her legs over my shoulders, prompting me to keep leaning in. I didn’t expect a girl with her gentle, sleek curves to be this flexible. I finally leaned in for her breasts, teasing her nipples by flicking my tongue, to the response of cooing and an arched back. My lips sealed around the soft, round wonders, and my eyes widened when I tasted a sweet cream gushing into my mouth. I pulled off and stared in her eyes, stunned. She shrugged playfully. I’d heard rumors of the king’s servants being treated with hormones, but that seemed too sadistic to be true. I dove back in, savoring her milk as I kept pumping inside her.
An hour passed and we were both soaked with sweat, both upright, her hips moving in crescent motions as our heads were nuzzled against one another’s shoulders. I leaned back, giving her the top position, but knew she didn’t have much time left. She bounced up and down, breathing heavy as I held her hips. She pulled her hair aside from her drenched forehead and leaned back, shivering and convulsing. She came down, kissing me deep with a passion I’d never felt, pulling her leash to its limit and choking herself with the ceremonial collar. . I wrapped my hands around her head and kissed her back, holding her so close it felt like our hearts and souls were entangled. With a last rush of energy, I pumped up, launching a dozen shots of warm cream inside my little halfsister as she gasped and gulped and cooed. She collapsed on my chest.
I turned cold, realizing I’d forgotten something, worried it would drive her away if she knew I didn’t know. “What’s your name?” I asked my sister.
“Jenna” she whispered softly into my chest. I released the collar, closed my eyes, and we dreamed of one another.
