Once upon a time there was a beautiful little princess.
Her name was Aludra, which, in the language of her
people, meant “unwanted one”. Of course she didn’t know
this, because all the servants in the palace DID want
her. They loved her dearly. She was sweet and pretty
and fun to be around, whereas her mother was a stone
cold class A Bitch. The Queen was such a bitch that,
after her husband, the King, knocked her up with
Aludra, she poisoned him.
“Imagine!” she thought. “That pig making my belly
swell, giving me stretch marks, making me look FAT!” It
had been unpardonable, and so she made him pay.
Unknown to the King, she was a witch of the most evil
sort. And so she used her magic to create a poison that
would, to the King, be irresistible, and which she knew
he would gladly take.
But I get ahead of the story. You’ll learn more about
that later.
Aludra was different than her mother in many ways.
While the Queen was evil incarnate, Aludra was born
pure and as unstained as a human being can be. In later
years, philosophers would argue that all hint of
goodness in the Queen was fed to the baby in her womb,
leaving her without a single iota of decency after the
birth. The Queen ranted and raved and had people beaten
and whipped for the most trifling errors. Aludra loved
everyone and protected them as she got older and
realized she could do so.
In one thing were they alike. Both were beautiful. In
fact, one might have looked in the official dictionary
of the kingdom (now queendom?) for the phrase “Brick
Shithouse” and their pictures would have been there as
an illustration. But the Queen was dark of skin, with
raven black hair that fell to her buttocks. She never
ever cut her hair, because it had been imbued with
magical powers when she was a little girl herself.
Well, she never cut her head hair.
There was other hair on her body that she took great
pains to keep well trimmed and shaped. That hair was
between her legs. It also had magical properties, for
whenever she showed that hair to a man, he became her
slave. Her body was the epitome of classical
femininity. She had a small waist, below which were
hips that beckoned a man and which framed a pussy that
most men would die for (and which no few men HAD died
because of). Above her waist swelled a pair of breasts
that caused most men to stop breathing, sometimes for
an extended period. Her firm jutting breasts were the
foundation for a pair of nipples, coal black, set on
only slightly lighter areolas.
No man except her husband the King had ever been
allowed to suck at those nipples. And it was through
those nipples that she introduced the poison that had
killed the King. She had cast a spell upon her own
breast milk, a spell of the darkest sort and, when the
King sucked her nipples, she smiled, not from pleasure,
but from the knowledge that he would be dead before
morning.
As for her daughter, she had plans for that unwanted
babe, and couldn’t afford to kill the runt off. Not yet
anyway. According to the old scroll the Queen had
found, a virgin princess of one’s own blood could be
involved in a magic spell that would result in
immortality. It meant killing your own issue, but… it
was worth it. And so, due to the spell, she denied her
only daughter her breasts, and the deadly milk they
held.
Or at least she THOUGHT she had denied them. For, you
see, after Aludra was born, and the Queen had glanced
at her, frowning and yelling to get the brat away from
her, she had fallen into a deep sleep. The midwife, not
knowing about her dangerous breasts, had laid Aludra on
the Queen’s breast while she slept. And Aludra, being a
baby, had done what babies do and had suckled her
mother’s tit.
She had swallowed only one gulp, however, before she
began to scream and cry so fearfully that the midwife
immediately snatched her up and carried her to the
royal nursery, trying to quiet her loud complaining
screams. Of course the reason she cried so was that the
magic in the milk was of the evil sort, and the
innocent and sweet Aludra’s body was shocked by the
foul tasting and deadly milk.
Of course no one knew why poor Aludra was crying. What
neither she, nor her mother knew, was that some of the
Queen’s antibodies to the poison had been in that sip
of milk, and thus, the baby didn’t die. Even more
important, though, was that a tiny bit of dark magic
had passed into Aludra in her mouthful of milk.
Further, because it was only a tiny amount of magic,
and because Aludra’s essence was so pure and good, the
milk’s inherent evil was first weakened, then
neutralized and finally turned to good. It soon coursed
through Aludra’s veins, moving to every part of her
body.
She finally stopped crying and her nurse suddenly
realized what a beautiful baby this was. In fact, the
nurse was so taken with the child she couldn’t stop
staring.
This was to become a well known phenomenon where Aludra
was concerned. It was as if she were a magnet to the
eye of the observer. And everyone who saw her thought
she was the most beautiful girl they’d ever seen.
The Queen didn’t mind. After all, she wanted nothing to
do with the girl and had no plans for her until her
18th birthday. At that time the Queen planned on
performing a ceremony that, among various incantations,
involved cutting out her daughter’s heart, cooking it
just past medium rare, and eating it, from which point
on the Queen would never age, her beauty would never
fade, and she would begin her life as an immortal.
It was therefore imperative that Aludra remain a virgin
until her 18th birthday. About this the Queen didn’t
concern herself.
At least not until Aludra began her menses and began to
bud into sweet womanhood. It was at that point that the
Queen noticed an elderly courtier, Count Versnov by
name, who was staring at Aludra as she walked through
the throne room. Aludra was dressed in peasant’s
clothing, which the Queen required her to wear quite
often in an attempt to crush her spirit. And so, the
simple, light dress Aludra had on, did almost nothing
to hide her budding breasts and swelling hips.
Count Versnov, who by anyone’s reckoning was at least
seventy, let his mouth slowly drop open and a thin line
of drool ran down one corner as he gaped at the girl.
The Queen dropped her gaze and to her immense surprise,
she observed that Count Versnov’s penis had stiffened
to the point that it poked his pants out at least six
inches. Even the Count was astounded when he looked
down and saw his noble member acting as if it were
thirty years younger.
That night, the Count was invited to attend the Queen.
He was the second man in the world to taste the
delights of the Queen’s nipples, and he too was dead by
morning.
The Queen began to take more notice of how people
responded to her daughter. Men were struck dumb in her
presence. True her skin was the color of new fallen
snow. True her lips were red and full. True her breasts
were large and firm. True her hair was golden. The
Queen dropped in on her daughter at bed time one night
and her fears were confirmed.
Aludra’s breasts were graced with light pink areolas,
capped with bright red nipples just aching to be
nibbled like fresh strawberries. Aludra’s pubes were
golden, almost invisible, and did nothing to cover the
plump pink lips that pouted between her thighs. The
Queen found herself wishing she could sup at those lips
– drink her fill with the nectar that no doubt rested
within…
She shook her head, shaking off the spell and realized
for the first time that, within her daughter, rested
something else – magic – and not just any old magic,
but magic that made her irresistible to the opposite
sex. And maybe even to her own. Aludra turned to her
mother. “Mother!” she smiled. “What brings you here?”.
Again the Queen felt the intense desire to love and
touch and nurture this girl.
Horror of horrors.
She fled.
Something had to be done. The girl would never remain a
virgin if this were allowed to continue.
The Queen retired to her tower study and pored through
her arcane books. She found a spell that was supposed
to snuff out love – sort of an anti-love potion. It
required the sperm of an adolescent blacksmith, among
other ingredients.
And, as it happened, that after bedtime several nights
later, Aludra approached her mother’s bedchamber to ask
her mother why she had fled the other night. Aludra had
never gone to her mother’s rooms before, and she was
not aware that one could enter only after ringing a
bell and receiving permission.
Instead, she just opened the door and walked in. She
was perplexed immediately upon seeing something round
and white, rising and falling rhythmically in the
center of the bed. As she stared, she realized it
looked just like a pair of buttocks. She had seen
buttocks on numerous occasions as she walked by men who
had dropped their pants to urinate in the fields, or
alongside the road.
Then she made out a leg, bent at the knee, that was
beside the buttocks. No, a pair of knees that the
buttocks were between. Suddenly a man’s back rose from
behind the buttocks, and she realized she was looking
at a naked man’s back. The man’s legs were covered by
bedclothes. She stared in shock as she realized the man
was Adomos, the blacksmith’s son.
She heard a voice. “Yes, boy, you are doing well. Now
you must go faster.” It was her mother’s voice! And it
was coming from the person whose knees she saw
straddling Adomos’s backside.
Aludra crept closer to the bed. What in the world was
going on?
Adomos kicked his legs, knocking the covers off of them
and Aludra barely kept in her gasp of surprise.
Now she knew what was going on.
She could clearly see that the funny thing that men
peed out of, and which they called a penis. It usually
hung between their legs, like a shriveled sausage, but
the one on Adomos had become quite stiff and long. Not
only that, but Adomos had placed his penis into a hole
between her mother’s legs, and was ramming it
repeatedly into the hole. Apparently it was painful to
him, because he was groaning and moaning as if his life
were at an end. He even yelled at one point, “Oh, my
Queen, I fear I shall die.”
The Queen murmured something back. Aludra knew she
hadn’t heard right. It sounded like her mother had said
“Oh, I’ll not be surprised at that.”
Then Adomos cried out “Ohhhhhh… it is time… Oh my
Queen… I give thee my gift… Ahhhhhhh.”
Aludra watched, first with interest as the stiff thing
between Adomos’s legs began to jerk and a circle of
creamy white fluid built up around it where it entered
her mother’s body. But her interest turned to disgust
and then horror as it jerked harder, now shaking Adomos
entire body as he flailed and writhed and cried out.
His skin began to wrinkle, as if his insides were
getting smaller. His cries grew weaker and weaker as
his inner body shrank more and more until all that was
left was a leathery bag that was once his skin.
Aludra opened her mouth to scream out her horror but
the sound froze in her throat as her mother grasped the
empty skin of her lover and flung it on the floor
beside the bed.
“I have no more need of YOU, oh son of the blacksmith.”
Aludra knew she had to hide – that if her mother saw
her something even more horrible would happen. She
stepped behind a tapestry hanging on the wall. She
found a moth hole she could spy through.
Again her groin tightened with horror as she watched
her mother get out of bed and squat over a stone bowl.
The Queen appeared to flex the muscles of her abdomen
and a large gooey mass of glowing ivory drooled out of
the hole between her legs and dripped into the bowl.
When it had stopped dripping, the Queen stood,
inspected the pool of glowing liquid and nodded her
head. “Now, my little vixen, we’ll ensure your
virginity until I need it.” She threw on a robe and
left the room through a door that led to steps going
up.
Aludra was almost unable to make her legs work. What
had her mother been talking about? Who was she talking
to? What had she done to poor Adomos? She tip-toed over
to what was left of the boy and knew immediately that
Adomos was no more.
She also knew, for the first time, that her mother was
a horrible person.
Aludra didn’t know quite what to do. Without thinking
she ran out of the Castle and to the house of the
Blacksmith, Goodman Buden. She pounded on the door
again and again until she heard the blacksmith’s rough
voice “Coming Coming. Ease off there whoever you are.
I’m Coming.” The door was flung open and Aludra found
herself looking at the blacksmith’s chest. He was two
heads taller than Aludra, and wider by far – almost as
wide as the door. He was also staring out into the
night, right over Aludra’s head. “What?!” he roared,
before realizing someone was standing in front of him.
He peered at her. “Princess!” he barked. “Whatever is
wrong?”
“Oh Goodman Buden, I fear your son is dead! I saw him
wither and die before my very eyes and I don’t know
what to do.”
“Quickly,” he barked again. “Come inside and tell me
what happened.”
So Aludra found herself in the house of the blacksmith,
a widower, by chance, and a man dressed only in a light
nightshirt. Aludra had fled the castle in such a hurry
that she wore only her thin nightdress, a diaphanous
slip of silk that was almost, if not quite,
transparent. Further, she was panting with the exertion
of having run all the way to the house, and her
succulent breasts were heaving.
The blacksmith, who was quite aware of the seeming
enchantment upon the princess, averted his eyes
immediately. He had found himself standing stock still,
staring at her beauty on many occasions before he had
figured out she attracted men’s eyes with magic
somehow. And, he had decided that the only way to
converse with her (or get any work done) was to talk to
something close to her, and not to herself at all.
He was holding his own, though not completely able to
concentrate on exactly what she was saying. Then the
words “ramming his penis into my mother” broke through
the haze in his mind. Startled beyond control, he
looked straight at her.
The fire was behind her. Her gown was all but
transparent. The magic snared him.
“And then his penis started to swell and jerk and he
began to…” Aludra was trying to tell Goodman Buden
what had happened, but she trailed off as his eyes
glazed over and he sort of leaned to one side.
He moaned.
One of his massive hands brushed the front of his night
shirt. Aludra looked down and saw a huge tent in the
front of the shirt. His hands were fumbling with the
shirt, pulling it up, bunching it around his waist.
“You mean” he droned in a hypnotized voice “His
penis… like this?” His hands dragged the hem of his
night shirt above his waist.
Aludra stared. Her face burned as she blushed. Goodman
Buden had exposed his own penis to her!
And WHAT a penis it was! It was MONSTROUS! It was at
least three hand spans long. It was as big around as
her wrist. It had a big purple knob at the end, which
had something beginning to ooze out of a little hole
there.
The sides of the tube were gnarly with curving lines
and it was rooted in a bush of dark hair that flew out
in all directions. And hanging below all this was a
sack that looked like it could hold a King’s ransom in
gold. All in all it looked like it could be used as a
pretty effective club in time of war! One of his hands
grasped the penis and stroked it, forward and back
once.
“I have a penis,” he sighed, taking a step toward her.
Aludra’s eyes went round. What was he doing?
Then she remembered what his son had done with HIS
penis and she began to back up, the pit of her stomach
going warm and fuzzy somehow. But her mind was sharp
and she realized he was not in full control of his
faculties.
She also knew that if she did nothing HIS penis would
soon be doing what his SON’S penis had been doing –
albeit in a different vagina. Part of her thrilled to
the chance to find out what that might feel like.
But she liked Goodman Buden, and couldn’t begin to
accept that what had happened to his son might happen
to him too. She had to do something to snap him out of
it. Her hand went behind her to the table top. She felt
something. A spoon. A long wooden spoon. She grasped
it. Then she swung.
The spoon contacted exactly on the bulbous tip of
Goodman Buden’s penis. His eyes cleared, he dropped his
eyes to the point of impact, and he folded like a piece
of cheap paper. The sound he made caused her spine to
shiver.
Aludra addressed the man, who was curled in a ball on
the floor. “I’m so sorry Goodman, but you weren’t
yourself and I had to do something…” The sounds he
was making nearly made her heart break. She saw that
his hand was now wrapped around just the tip of his
mammoth member, and he was squeezing it tightly.
She went to the fire and round a pot of water sitting
to one side of the fire box. It had hot water in it.
She dipped a cloth into the water and returned to him.
“Here, apply this hot compress. Maybe it will help.”
But he was rocking back and forth, moaning piteously.
So she pried his hand away and swathed the swollen tip
in the hot, wet cloth.
“Ahhhhhhh,” he sighed. Slowly his eyes opened and
looked into hers. “Princess, I cannot look at you, or
else I’ll lose my mind again,” he groaned. “But I am in
such pain. And what you are doing brings such comfort.”
He was not a stupid man. “I have an idea,” he said. “I
will keep my eyes closed. If you will follow my
instructions, we may be able to find out if this
enchantment can be broken.”
She was willing. “Of course Goodman.” she said.
Which is how it came to be that Princess Aludra found
herself being taught how to pleasure a man with her
hand. Her stroke was light and quick, but with enough
firmness to ensure the entire surface of his prick was
stimulated. That would have been enough for any man,
but she could see where she had caused a bruise, where
there was a darker purple swelling on one side of the
tip. And, quite innocently, she leaned forward to place
a kiss upon that injury.
Which is how it came to be that Princess Aludra found
her face covered in a thick coating of the blacksmith’s
rich white semen. It filled her eyes, and in trying to
drag it clear of them she got it in her mouth.
The blacksmith, being a healthy man with a diet rich in
greens and fruits, had sweet tasting semen, and she
soon found that the simplest and easiest way to deal
with the mess was to scrape it all into her mouth and
swallow it.
Then she remembered the hot rag and brought it to bear.
Once she got her eyes open she found the blacksmith
staring at her as if she were some sort of mythical
creature, seen once in only a thousand years. But his
eyes were clear. He started when he realized she was
inspecting him for signs of intelligence and control.
“It seems, your majesty,” he said gravely “That once…
things are taken care of… the enchantment passes.”
His mighty penis gave some small lie to this statement
by jerking in her hand. He pushed her hand away. “But
let’s not test that theory so soon.” He smiled
tentatively.
Then he heard her story and grieved for his lost son.
Aludra told him everything, each sordid detail,
including the part where she had obviously collected
his dead son’s sperm and even the essence of his life
itself, to use in some evil plot involving some poor
virgin.
Buden, as has been said, was not a stupid man. He had
suspected for some time that the Queen practiced evil
magic, and now, here was proof. But she was the Queen,
and he was only a lowly blacksmith. He agreed to think
on what she had said and to try to contact her later.
She offered to come to his home again, but risking a
glance at her gorgeous form, he thought that not a good
idea. In fact, his prick was once again rising to
praise her beauty, though he was at least able to keep
his brains this time. She noticed though.
“Goodman, why does your penis stiffen like this?” his
princess asked.
“Well, your majesty, you see, when a man sees a
beautiful woman, such as yourself, it is only natural
that he wishes to make a baby with her. It stiffens for
that purpose.”
“You mean it wishes to make a baby now? Here? With
whom, goodman Blacksmith?
“Ah… er… well, your highness… uh, you see…” he
stuttered.
Aludra stamped one pretty little foot. Goodman, what is
wrong with your mouth? I asked a simple question. Your
penis has stiffened and it wishes to make a baby. Is
that not correct?” she frowned.
Buden spoke to a point just over her head, to a nail in
the wall actually. “Ah, yes, your highness.”
“Now,” she said slowly, as if talking to a simpleton.
“Who does your penis wish to make a baby with?”
“In, actually,” said Buden, before he could think
enough to clap a hand over his mouth.
“Very well, master blacksmith” she said “Who does your
penis wish to make a baby IN? Speak up good man.”
Buden didn’t know what to do. Here was his princess,
whom he couldn’t look at, demanding to be told that he
wished to jam his prick into her soft pink pussy,
whereupon he wished to deposit gallons of his virile
sperm, such that she would bear his twins (if possible)
in nine short months. Of course she didn’t know that
was what she was demanding to be told. But he did. And
he was quite sure his head would roll if he did so. But
he had to tell her something.
“There’s a lass,” he said slowly. “A milk maid I saw in
the market this morning.” He gulped. “Your highness
reminded me of her I suspect.”
“Oh,” said Aludra. “Well. That’s fine then, but we
can’t waste time thinking about milk maids now, can we.
We have an emergency. A problem of the highest
magnitude. My mother has killed your son in a most vile
and unnatural way. Whatever shall we do?”
She didn’t notice Buden sigh with relief at her
acceptance of his lie. “As I said, highness, I will
contact you later, after I have had a chance to develop
a plan.”
“I shall await your message” Aludra said breathlessly
and she turned to run back to the castle. Of course
Buden looked at her fleeting form, at which time he saw
her lift her gown to her thighs and run. The night
breeze uncovered her bare buttocks for just a moment
and Buden was ensorcelled again. Had the princess
looked back she’d have seen the man jerking another
load of that yummy tasting white fluid toward her as
she ran away.
The next day the queen completed her nasty business.
Her evil spell had been concocted and the poor essence
that had been the son of the blacksmith had become a
vile liquid contained in a jade jar. The queen went to
the kitchen and selected the most beautiful apple of
all that were there and then rubbed the evil brew all
over the ripe red skin of the fruit. Knowing her
daughter loved to go to market on Thursdays, to mix
with the unwashed of the village, she performed another
spell that changed her appearance to that of an old
hag. Then she took the poisoned apple and went to the
village.
Aludra was walking through the market, leaving a trail
of love struck men (and women) behind her, when she was
approached by a short and ugly hag who was holding a
lovely red apple. “Here, Princess… for you” croaked
the hag. Aludra started to say no. “I have no money,”
she said, but the apple was thrust into her hands and
the hag turned and disappeared into the crowd.
Aludra looked at the apple, took a dainty bite, and
fell to the ground senseless. She had been magically
put into a deep sleep. A sleep that her mother planned
her never to awaken from.
The next day, with great fanfare and many retainers, a
coal black carriage pulled up and parked in front of
the smithy. Buden, of course, knew who was in that
carriage. He had made that carriage, after all, for the
King, who gave it to his wife.
Buden assumed that she had somehow found out that his
sperm had crossed the lips of her daughter and was
there to kill him. He had been working on a wagon
spring, but when the Queen breezed into his shop he
held a broadsword of immense proportions and was keenly
examining the edge on the weapon. When the queen came
into the room he knelt, the tip of the sword at his
feet, his hands on the crosspiece. “My Queen” he
rumbled.
“Ahh, goodman Blacksmith,” the queen said sweetly. “I
have need of your skills.”
Buden glanced warily up at the evil woman. He felt no
sorcery or enchantment. “How could one so low as I
possibly be of service to you, your majesty?”
“Rise… rise blacksmith,” commanded the queen. “I
don’t wish to address the floor. Now. I have a
daughter. You may know of her.”
Buden had risen. At mention of her daughter he gripped
the sword’s hilt. “Yes, your majesty.” he said simply.
“She is a wild and unruly girl,” said the queen. “If
you’ve ever had children you know how…
unappreciative… they can be.”
He gripped the hilt of the sword harder, until his
knuckles whitened. One stroke was all it would take to
rid the Kingdom of this horrid witch forever. But there
were soldiers outside and his life would also be
forfeit. “Of course, your majesty,” he said. He had an
idea. “My own son has not come home from his frolicking
this morning, and his work lies as yet undone.” He
peered at her closely. She made not a blink and showed
no indication of any kind that she knew quite well why
this was the case.
“Yes, well, peasants are generally unreliable,” she
said in a haughty voice. As he thought again about
lopping off her evil head she went on. “But I’m here to
talk about my daughter. She has gone and gotten herself
enchanted in some way. She is sleeping, and no one can
awaken her. She is not exactly dead, but she must be
protected until she is eighteen….”
She stopped suddenly, glaring at the blacksmith, who
was intelligent enough to be looking at her feet, where
a good peasant should look. “As I say, she is
ensorcelled and will not awaken. Until I can find a
cure, she must be protected. And so I am in need of a
casket, not one for a dead person, but for my poor
daughter. It must protect her and be unable to be
opened until I wish it. This you must do on pain of
death.”
And so it was that Goodman Buden fashioned a casket for
the princess that had a thick crystal cover, atop iron-
strapped oak of immense strength.
He fashioned a cunning lock for which he made one key
which fit, but did not open the lock, and one key which
worked in every way.
The second key he kept.
When he delivered the casket, however, he gave the
queen only the imperfect key, saying she should keep it
well protected, as it was the only one to the special
lock. “Your majesty, I have made this lock so powerful
that, should you lose that key, not even I will be able
to break your daughter out of her prison… er I mean
cocoon of safety.”
The queen, who had watched the blacksmith lift the
heavy casket off the wagon by himself, and suspected
the muscle between his legs might be just as well
developed as all the rest, took the key and dropped it
between her snow white breasts.
“Should I ever need help in finding it I shall call
you, good blacksmith.” Then she leered at him, not
knowing that all this did was fuel the fire in his
heart for revenge.
Then Buden picked up the princess and placed her gently
in the casket. In the process he pulled a finger full
of her blond hair out and hid it in his cuff. Then he
closed the lid and depressed the lock.
A loud click was heard.
The queen immediately turned to the Captain of her
guard and ordered “Break open this box that holds my
daughter. If you can, the blacksmith dies.” The man
instantly attacked the casket, beating at it with his
sword, then with a pike, and finally with a morning
star.
None of them penetrated the box in any way, so well had
the blacksmith constructed it. When the man was panting
and unable to go on, the queen turned to Buden and
said, “Well done. You shall live after all.” With that
she gave him a bag of gold and had him shown out.
The queen, ever willing to be mean and break hearts,
intentionally left her daughter’s sleeping body on
display in the castle courtyard. Folk came from miles
around to stare, transfixed, at the beautiful girl,
sleeping in her impenetrable container. It drove some
mad and men tried to breach the box, to kiss the lovely
girl inside. Those were taken and impaled on stakes
atop the castle walls. When a man was found
masturbating while gazing at the girl his head
decorated a spike, and it wasn’t his tongue that hung
from his open mouth.
Aludra slept on.
Buden, meanwhile, took the gold the Queen had given
him, and the lock of hair he had pulled from Aludra’s
head, and went looking for a sorcerer he could trust.
It took him almost a year to find one he thought could
answer his question and be trusted not to spread that
answer around. An old seer peered into sweet smelling
smoke and said he saw the name “Polugra” as the answer
to the Blacksmith’s quest. It took another month to
find someone who recognized the name. The old toothless
farmer peered up at the blacksmith and said “‘es on
sabbatical”.
That, it turned out, meant he lived in an old tower in
the country which was protected with traps and spells
of all kinds. He didn’t want to be disturbed.
Once Buden got through all the traps and spells, most
of which required immense strength, he came at last to
the entrance of the tower. Thinking his trials over, he
entered and was at once ensnared in a spell of great
power.
“AHA!” cackled a leathery voice. An old crone came from
the dark corner of the entryway and looked him up and
down. “At last, one has made it through all the traps
and trials my brother has set, but has been caught up
in MY spell. Perhaps you will be the one.” She spoke as
if she had just explained everything.
Buden addressed her. “Mistress, I mean you no harm, nor
to your brother do I wish ill. I have a problem that
only your brother may solve and so I have hunted for
him an entire year. Surely you will not deny a poor
blacksmith this quest.”
“That all depends,” she said shortly. “How old do you
think I am?”
Buden looked at her withered body and gray stringy
hair. “Surely you have lived eighty summers good lady”.
“HA!” she yelled. “I’m thirty-one, and I’ve my brother
to thank for this visage. He put a spell on me ten
years ago. Said I was nosy and noisy and had too many
men callers. Made me look like THIS, the bastard! So if
you want anything from him, you have to give something
to me first.”
“Of course, my lady,” said Buden.
The hag cackled and shed her rags with unnerving
swiftness. Her poor old milk bags hung empty and
wrinkled. Her abdomen was flabby and fish belly white.
A great growth of unruly hair bushed between her legs.
Her knees were knobby too!
“You have to plunge your tool in my sex!” she said
triumphantly. “And if you please me, I’ll let you live
and talk to my brother. If not I’ll suck the essence of
your life out of you to give me a little facelift.”
Buden was horrified. To have sex with this withered
shell of a woman was abhorrent. But he needed the
antidote to whatever the queen had done to the sleeping
princess.
He steeled his courage. “As you command,” he said
stiffly.
Unfortunately, that was the only thing stiff about him.
When he disrobed the hag dropped her jaw and hopped
from one skinny foot to the other with glee.
“Surely I tell you, blacksmith, never have I seen such
a tool as yours. I think you might actually get to
live!”
He saw a dribble of drool slide from the corner of her
mouth and shuddered. Then she spoke again, and there
was iron in her voice. “But only if you get that thing
hard for me. Otherwise I’ll do it the hard way.”
She grinned and he saw her teeth were filed to points.
She stared at his penis and licked her lips. What could
he do? He had to do something. He thought of poor
Aludra, picturing her in her casket.
He felt a twitch in his cock.
That was it! Aludra! He thought of her as he had seen
her that night in her almost transparent nightgown. He
thought of her handling his cock, of his spend
drenching her hand, of her mouth sucking up and
swallowing his issue.
His prick sprang to attention.
With a cry of relief he grabbed the crone and, with
little ceremony, lifted her up like she was a baby.
She squawked and her legs flew apart as he held her in
front of him. He set her on his massive rod and it held
up her entire weight!
“You’d better enjoy this” he growled.
She was gibbering, saliva spitting all over his chest
as she tried to wiggle her ancient pussy onto his cock.
He hawked and spat a glob of saliva that splatted right
where her pussy rested on his rod. He dragged her back
to the tip of his cock and, like she was a stuffed
animal, began to force his cock into her old woman’s
sex. He thrust and pulled.
She screamed and fainted. She was impaled!
Buden closed his eyes and thought again of his beloved
Aludra. This wasn’t an old crone’s pussy dragging at
his cock. It was the Princess’. It wasn’t an ugly hag
wrapped around his jutting penis. It was the soft warm
body of his fantasy woman. It seemed so real that he
was surprised when his prick jumped and belched out a
lemon sized glob of thick white peasant cum.
The hag’s eyes flew open. “Oh my,” she said.
And she began to change before his very eyes.
Her hair went from gray and white to shiny reddish
brown. The wrinkles disappeared from her face, then her
torso and, though he couldn’t see them, her legs. Her
breasts filled back up and stuck out proud, firm,
tempting. Her nipples stuck out even further and began
spurting milk! Her pussy, which had been dry and grimy,
fleshed out. Her pussy lips became plump and pink and
now wrapped themselves lovingly around the monster
penis that parted them.
As Buden’s penis threw another cupful of his sperm into
the woman she looked fifty years younger. Her pussy
rippled and spasmed as she went into a powerful orgasm.
She blinked her startling green eyes at him once,
screamed in joy, and collapsed, senseless. He caught
her and, ever so gently, pulled her off his steaming
rod.
He lay her gently on the floor, for lack of anywhere
better, and stared at her. She was beautiful! He
slapped her cheeks lightly and her eyes fluttered open.
She raised her head, looking at her breasts. Then she
brought a hand up into the dim light and examined it,
her eyes opening wider and wider. Then she lurched off
the floor, her arms gripping the blacksmith’s neck as
if to try to break it.
“You’ve SAVED ME!” she sobbed. “You’ve broken the
spell.” Then she rained kisses on his cheeks, his lips,
his beard, everywhere she could reach.
Finally she was able to speak without crying. “My
brother cast that horrible spell on me, making sure no
man would ever find me desirable again. He taunted me
for years that the only way it could be broken was if a
man took me of his own free will, with real desire in
his heart. And you have done that you wonderful man.
You’ve saved me and I am your slave, yours to command.”
“Then I instantly set you free to pursue your own
desires” said the honorable blacksmith. “But first,
could you take me to your brother? I fear only he can
help me, though I am very angry with him right now for
doing that to you. I will have to restrain myself from
thrashing him.”
Her head bowed. “No you won’t. I killed the bastard
five years ago. Bashed in his head with a shovel. He’d
protected himself from all sorts of magical assaults,
but a plain old shovel did the trick. I fear, master
blacksmith, that I cannot take you to him.”
Then Buden wept, long and bitterly. He’d used up almost
all the gold the evil queen had given him, and he’d
thought his search was at an end.
Tearfully he told his tale to the girl, ending with
“and the seer said that only the sorcery of Polugra
could help me and now you tell me that this sorcerer is
dead and I have done all this for nothing. I am a
failure and my beloved princess will die because of
it!”
The girl looked at him strangely and then broke into
laughter.
He glared at her until she raised a slim now handsome
hand. “Good Buden, it is I who am named Polugra, not my
brother.”
Buden’s mouth dropped open as she went on.
“Yes, it’s true. Both of us studied sorcery and it was
I who was the more powerful. He was jealous and
prepared a black spell using evil magic to entrap me in
the useless body of the hag you saw before. Now you
have broken that spell and I am returned to my power.”
With that she snapped her fingers and torches in the
hall sprang to light. Then she looked at the blacksmith
with gentle eyes. “Come with me, blacksmith.”
She led him up a dusty staircase that circled the wall
inside the tower, to a large well lighted workroom that
was heavy with dust and cobwebs and signs of disuse.
She clapped her hands and things straightened
themselves magically. Apparatus put itself away. Dust
blew itself out the windows. Roses appeared in what had
been empty vases. Suddenly she was clothed in a dress
of finest satin, pale blue, with darker blue ribbons.
Buden goggled, then glanced down at his own body, which
was still naked.
He looked at her.
Her eyes gleamed.
“In due course, good Buden.”
Then she asked him for the lock of the Princess’ hair
and, after he ran back down the stairs to retrieve it
from his discarded clothing, she began her examination
of it.
Long into the night did she toil over the hair, using
spells and liquids and concoctions to pull the queen’s
evil secrets from the golden hair. Buden fell asleep on
a pile of burlap bags.
He awoke with a start. It was morning and the sun was
up two or more hours. He looked wildly around and saw
Polugra asleep in a chair, her burnished hair showing
red glints in the morning sun. She was still beautiful,
and seeing her so made him realize he was still naked
and his thick member was, as usual in the morning, rock
hard and full of yellow piss. He looked around for a
chamber pot and, not finding one, stood by an open
window and anointed the grass far below. He turned
around to find Polugra staring at him, and the now only
half hard sausage hanging between his legs.
“You are truly a man, Buden of the far kingdom. I am
very grateful to have met you.” She smiled and her eyes
strayed back to his penis. The tip of her tongue came
out briefly and licked her lower lip.
“But wait! I have solved your conundrum, or so I
believe. This queen of yours is a terrible woman if
what I have discovered is true.” Then she told him what
the golden hair had divulged.
The queen had made a potion, using the life essence of
a young boy, probably one of powerful build, who worked
with his hands. This boy’s essence had been sucked out
of him by magic. She blushed here, remembering she had
planned to use the same kind of magic to take Buden’s
life essence to extend her own life.
“Somehow she got the princess to ingest some of this
potion – probably put it on something the princess ate
– and now the evil brew courses through the girl’s
veins. That poor boy’s life force has been made evil,
and it subverts the girl’s life force, keeping her
unconscious.”
Buden told her of what Aludra had seen his son involved
in.
“That’s it!” she yelled. “She used the life force in
his sperm to create the potion.” She ran to a large
book on a shelf and pulled it down and open. She
flipped through pages, settling on one.
She gave a shout. “Yes! I think it can be reversed!”
“How, my lady?” questioned Buden.
“You are the boy’s father? In truth, I mean? Your wife
did not beget this boy with another?”
Buden’s visage clouded over and his scowl was mighty.
“His mother was a virgin when I took her on our wedding
night. She had the boy nine months later and never knew
another. She died bringing him into the world.”
“OK, OK, I had to ask,” said Polugra. “Because if what
I believe is true, then only YOU can undo the spell.”
“Oh!” he said. “How?”
“You must put your own life force into her, to
counteract that of your son that has become evil. It
must be the life force of a direct relative of the one
whose life force was misused. In this case that means
you.”
He gulped. “I must…”
“You must bury that magnificent tool of yours in her
belly and fill it just as full of your sperm as you did
mine.” Polugra said plainly. Then she blushed. “And I
have no fear that you will be able to perform this
little task. I was most taken with the skill with which
you broke the spell I was under.”
Buden colored. “Hmph… well… yes, I suppose so, but
I can’t just go back there and fuck the princess.” The
very thought of it paralyzed him.
Polugra smiled sweetly. “But of course, I’ll be going
with you brave Buden. I will see what can be done about
this queen of yours and, once she is taken care of,
perhaps you will then be able to, shall we say, effect
the princess’ cure?”
In fact, the thought of “effecting the princess’ cure”
was having a very obvious effect on Buden himself. His
member was becoming alarmingly stiff again.
Polugra noticed. “But first, I must properly thank you
for effecting MY cure.”
She snapped her fingers and her gown dropped to the
floor, leaving her completely, gloriously naked.
“I shall not take no for an answer, goodman. And, if
THAT is the result of simply thinking about your
princess” she pointed at his bobbing boner “then I
absolutely insist that you think long and hard (hee
hee) about her for, oh, say the next fifteen minutes.
Now. Come here.”
He did, and gladly.
And he thought about his princess for twenty minutes
while Polugra arched and ohhhed and ahhhed as his
sapling sized penis reamed her newly restored pussy
until she’d had six more orgasms, including that odd
squirting of milk from her nipples.
When he finally began to deliver what had made such a
difference in Polugra’s body before, he was awed to see
her belly actually bulge with the force and amount of
his life giving spend.
He was even more amazed when, at last he pulled his
soggy penis out of her and the bulge DIDN’T GO AWAY!!!
Polugra raised her tired head from the bed and caressed
her swollen belly with both hands. “I must thank you
yet again, goodman blacksmith. My condition at the time
of my brother’s curse was as you see me now, several
months with child. I know not whether you have revived
that child, or have given me one of your own, but I
tell you this – I shall cherish this child beyond all
else I have, and his name shall be Budan, in your
honor. Further, I must say. Have no fear that your
goodness will fail to overcome the evil of that witch.
You are a MOST powerful man.”
They packed and left the next day. Buden offered to let
Polugra “thank” him one last time before they left, but
she shook her head, laughing. “I fear if I let you in
me yet again I shall end up with triplets. Fear not,
though. If your princess allows, you shall know me
again, most intimately.” Buden blushed and then grinned
as they set out for the kingdom and his princess.
Two weeks later they snuck into Buden’s shop in the
dead of night. Polugra had been unable to control her
carnal urges on two occasions during their return. She
was very happy that her third and fourth “encounters”
with Buden’s manhood had not accelerated her pregnancy.
Apparently his powers simply overcame those of the dark
arts, but added nothing of their own.
She still walked a little bowlegged, however. He WAS
well endowed, after all. Unknown to Buden, she had
captured his last offering of life-giving sperm, much
as the evil queen had captured his son’s. She had then
spent some time concocting her own spell which she
placed on the potion she made from Buden’s issue. She
carried that in a special container around her neck,
close to her heart, where it would stay warm and
virile.
The next day Polugra changed her appearance into that
of an 11 year old peasant girl. She went to the castle,
where she got into line to see the sleeping princess.
She understood the power the sleeping girl had over
Buden and the rest in the kingdom as soon as she laid
eyes on the slumbering beauty. Polugra had to tear her
own eyes away, helped by the shoving of the next person
in line who wanted his own look. Polugra was horrified
to see this man grab his penis through his dirty
trousers as he stared at the princess.
Suddenly he was jerked from the line by a soldier who
yelled “What’s this? Do you defile the princess by
rubbing your putrid genitals in her presence?” The man
cried out but was instantly run through with a sword.
Then, in horror she watched as the unfortunate man was
hoisted up and impaled on a long darkly stained spike
standing along the top of the wall in the courtyard.
She saw there were six other corpses present that she
hadn’t seen before.
Then, in a whirl of black, the queen strode into the
courtyard. Her nose was up in the air and her head
turned this way, then that.
“There’s magic in this courtyard,” she howled. “Someone
is holding magic in this courtyard!”
Polugra, hiding behind a grown up, brought out the
container that held the potion she had made from
Buden’s sperm-laced semen. She opened the container and
tipped it up to her lips. The potion slid inside her
mouth, as if it were alive. It tasted sweet, but she
did not swallow. Instead she moved out from behind the
adult and stood where the queen could see her.
“YOU!!!” screeched the evil queen. “YOU’RE THE ONE
HOLDING MAGIC!!! I CAN FEEL IT.”
Polugra simply stood there, and put her hands on her
hips. Her appearance wavered and suddenly her true
nature revealed itself. Several of the men in the
compound gasped at her beauty.
“YOU BITCH!!!” screamed the queen. “HOW DARE YOU ENTER
MY CASTLE WITH YOUR PALTRY MAGICAL SKILLS. I AM
ZULUDRA, QUEEN, SORCERESS, ALL POWERFUL. FEAR ME,
STUPID PREGNANT PEASANT GIRL, FOR I WILL KILL YOU
MYSELF… AND THE BRAT YOU CARRY.”
She stomped toward Polugra, her hands weaving the
beginnings of a spell Polugra could have countered when
she was thirteen years old. She almost laughed, but
couldn’t because of what was in her mouth. Instead she
smiled sweetly at the queen.
Then Zuludra was within reach. Polugra didn’t wait. She
took a deep breath through her nose and spat the potion
into Zuludra’s face.
The queen stopped cold, thick white spooge running down
her face. She blinked and tried to wipe her eyes. Then
her mouth opened and an inhumane wailing came out.
That voice caused grown men to wet their trousers and
women to faint. It was the sound of true evil being
thrown from the carcass it infested. It was the sound
of the host of that black magic parasite dying and the
parasite being forced back into the abyss.
The queen’s face changed first. It darkened, then began
to dry and shrivel like Adomos had when the queen had
stolen his life force. She shrunk, getting shorter and
thinner until all that was left were the clothes that
had covered her body.
As a final wisp of dark smoke drifted up out of those
clothes there was a far off wail of
“Nooooooooooooooo!!” that faded into a horrible scream
as Zuludra’s life essence followed her evil parasite
into the abyss.
Polugra dusted off her clothing and looked at the
frozen people who had watched the entire scene. Then,
in a serious and ringing voice she announced: “The
Queen is dead… LONG LIVE THE QUEEN!”
She placed here hand on the casket in which the
princess, now the queen of the land lay. She glanced at
a lad who was staring at her, his eyes wide.
“Boy… do you know Buden the blacksmith?” The boy
nodded as if he were sleep walking.
“Well, go and fetch him… make haste… your queen
awaits his service.” He faltered, looked from her to
the casket and then back to her. Then he ran like the
old queen was on his trail.
Polugra ordered the Captain of the guard to clear the
courtyard and remove the bodies from the wall. It was
evidence of her natural power and authoritative figure
that he obeyed her without question.
Then, when only the soldiers were left she approached
him. “I’m going to have the blacksmith open the casket
and then I will see that your queen is awakened. No man
other than the blacksmith may see this ceremony or the
magic that will be used… on .. pain… of… death.
Do you understand me completely Captain?”
He stuttered and nodded and then ushered his men out.
None of them looked at either their new queen, or her
savior. The Captain was standing guard at the portal
himself when the blacksmith arrived.
“If I were you I’d turn around and go the other way
blacksmith” he said. “The woman in there is more deadly
than the old queen”. Then he muttered “not that I miss
her a whit.”
Buden nodded his head and said, “I must serve my queen.
See that no one intrudes,” he said. “I know a little of
this woman you speak of. She is a terrible foe to some.
I’ll do my best not to become one of those.”
The Captain shuddered and turned about.
And so it was that Buden found himself staring,
entranced at his beloved princess as he opened the box
she had slept in for over a year. His heart melted at
her beauty. Polugra stood by his side. “There is magic
in her” she said. “It causes all who see her to love
her beyond all things.”
He looked at her. “People should love her for who she
is and what she does, not because they are forced to.
Can you remove this magic?”
She put her fingers to the girl’s head. “It is
defensive magic. Perhaps if she is loved by someone
regardless of it’s pull then that pull will become
unnecessary. I cannot change her, but I can shield you
from the effects.”
“Do so please,” he said soberly.
Polugra spoke the spell and Buden felt a tingle go
through him. He looked at Aludra. She was still
beautiful. He still loved her. His prick still
stiffened, tenting his rough trousers. “It didn’t work”
he said sadly.
“Oh, it worked,” said Polugra laughing. “What you are
feeling now is real and quite normal. I think we should
proceed with ‘the cure'”. she said.
Buden removed his own clothing while Polugra magically
stripped the princess. Buden lifted her naked body and
carried her into the castle. They found a bedroom and
he placed her tenderly on a bed. Polugra spread her
legs, exposing her royal box with it’s pretty pink
pussy lips, waiting to be violated.
Buden grabbed his prick. It was achingly hard and he
wanted badly to slide it into that pretty pink pussy.
He wanted badly to shoot gallons of sperm in that
pussy.
“I can’t,” he groaned. “It would be like rape. Alas she
cannot give her consent.”
“But you MUST,” said a frustrated Polugra. “It is the
only way to awaken her. Your seed must enter her body
to combat the poison”
“I know,” he moaned. “But I cannot violate her tender
sex. There must be another way.”
She thought. “I have an idea” she said.
And she promptly went down on him, sucking as much of
his cock into her mouth as she could.
“Ohhhh,” he groaned. “I appreciate your willingness to
relieve the pressure until we can determine a good
course of action, but how will this help my queen?”
She stopped sucking reluctantly “Be patient and watch,
good blacksmith.” Then she returned to her oral chore.
She was good and he was primed. It didn’t take long
until a thick river of blacksmith spunk shot into
Polugra’s mouth. That one spurt filled her mouth to
overflowing and, with two fingers and her thumb,
enhanced by magic, she clamped off the base of his
massive bone, stopping his flow.
“Auuugggggg,” he groaned, almost in pain. She held up
one finger, warning him not to move and then her mouth
went to the tender pussy opening of the new queen.
Polugra sealed her lips to those of the princess and
she blew. Then her jaws worked as she spit and tongued
as much of his spooge into Aludra’s sex as she could
manage. She fell back gasping for air. “Quickly, use
your finger to stuff it further in,” she gasped.
Buden leapt to do her bidding and he slid one of his
long thick calloused fingers into his queen’s pussy.
Her body shuddered violently and a moan escaped her
sleeping lips.
Polugra sat up quickly “Yes, do that more. Move your
finger in and out.” He did so and was rewarded by more
movements by Aludra. At last her eyes opened halfway
and she looked at the naked blacksmith.
“Goodman blacksmith,” she murmured softly. “You have on
no clothing.”
“Yes, my queen. Should I dress immediately?”
“No” she mumbled. “I’ve been asleep, but I wasn’t
really asleep. I couldn’t see anything, but I could
hear everything. What happened?”
Softly Buden explained what had happened. Polugra
helped where her knowledge exceeded his.
“I feel so weak,” said Aludra. “Lift my head up
please.” Polugra did so and she looked at them both.
Good blacksmith, your penis is fully as hard as it was
the last time I saw it. Does it wish to make a baby
still?”
Buden pinked up. “Yes, my queen, it does indeed.”
“And I now understand that it is ME your penis wishes
to make a baby with?” she said softly.
“In,” repeated the blacksmith, unnecessarily. He
coughed, embarrassed.
“It would help you feel much better,” said Polugra. “I
promise, though there might be some small pain at
first.”
“And my mother is really dead and gone?” said the no-
longer-princess.
“Alas, tis true,” said Buden sadly.
“Then, good blacksmith, I am your queen, and I am in
need of your services.” she said a little more firmly.
“I wish for you to make me feel better.”
And so it was that Buden the blacksmith, found himself
perched between the silky white thighs of his queen,
while a red haired vixen held his leaking member to the
sexual portal of that queen. Polugra tapped Aludra on
the head three times, at which her head rolled limply
to one side. “Quickly now, take her while she is
senseless and cannot feel the pain. Fear not, she will
awaken all too soon. You must loosen her up before she
does.”
And with that Buden forced his mammoth cock into the
young queen’s pussy. She was tight beyond belief, but
he pushed mightily. His previous spend, placed in that
pussy by Polugra, helped a great deal, but still, when
he felt his mighty prick tip press into the end of her
queenly channel, still three inches of his rod were yet
to be sheathed in that soft, hot scabbard. Now a sort
of madness overcame Buden and with a growl he jerked
his cock out and rammed it back in. Then again and yet
again. The poor girl flopped under him as he battered
her with his oversize prong.
Then, he was awakened from his rage by the feel of
feminine hands parting his hairy butt cheeks. One of
Polugra’s saliva slickened fingers slid into his
asshole without warning. Buden exploded.
Well, it would be more nearly correct to say his prick
exploded. His previous orgasm, having been rudely
interrupted, reasserted itself violently. Streams of
his hot cum poured into Aludra’s ravaged sex.
It’s effect was both instant and noteworthy.
Aludra’s eyes snapped open, as did her mouth. There
came a wail from her lips as her mind connected with
what her body was experiencing.
“Awwwwwwwwwww,” she cried. And then, her queenly hips,
which, before now had lain limp and unresponding,
slammed up off the bed. This action, accompanied by
Buden’s downward thrust, finally sheathed the rest of
his virile penis in her body by the simple expedient of
forcing the head of his penis into her womb, where it
continued to spew it’s precious cargo. That cargo, in
overcoming the evil magic flowing through her veins,
resulted in the first orgasm Aludra had ever
experienced.
The result of that was spectacular.
“AAAIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEE,” came her agonized sounding
scream.
Agonized, however, she was not. In the throes of her
pleasure, Aludra’s pussy clamped down on Buden’s penis
and began milking it of all his stored up semen. Soon
his penis and balls were empty, but still his penis
tried to send something into her body. He groaned and
rolled, so as not to crush his lover, and an amazingly
revived Aludra ended up on top of the huge man, still
impaled on his spear of love, and now in complete
control of her faculties. Her recovery was both
successful and appreciated. She sat alert and in full
control of her body. She squeezed his prick with her
muscles.
“Goodman Buden, you have done a great service to your
queen and the kingdom. I am quite recovered from the
evil plans my mother set in motion. And all because of
your bravery and” she squeezed his prick with her pussy
again “your endurance. You are due a reward for your
service.”
Buden was gasping for air. “Your highness” he began
“I…”
“Hush” said his queen. “Do not waste your valuable
energy on speaking.” She turned to Polugra, whose hand
was busy between her own legs, having watched the
energetic manner in which Aludra’s virginity was
dispatched.
“Lady Polugra, in the… absence… of my mother, I
find myself in need of an advisor… Nor do I have a
Royal Sorceress. I also owe many thanks to you for your
role in… curing me. If you, by chance have no plans
for the immediate future, might I impose on you to stay
a while? I can compensate you handsomely.”
“It would be my pleasure, your highness, to attend to
your magical needs,” said the sorceress.
“Well, then. Excellent.” she jerked her hips and the
blacksmith’s now flaccid penis slithered out of her
wetly. “Oh my. Have you any magic that can bring life
back to such as this?” She lifted his member with two
fingers.
“No magic is necessary, your highness,” said Polugra
smiling. “Only your lips are needed in this case.” And
when the sorceress explained the process Aludra’s face
lit up. “Oh, but I’ve done that already one time, and
to this very penis,” she cooed. Then she commenced to
practice her oral skills on poor Buden’s flagging
prick.
It didn’t flag for long. After all, this is a fairy
tale. Soon it was standing proud and strong again, and
when it was, the queen happily mounted her new toy
again and rode it until again she felt that wonderful
electric feeling in her body and the warm wet feeling
of Buden’s penis making a baby in her.
“In this way must you serve me from now on,” she
pronounced. And Buden groaned. She laughed. “Poor man,
I’ll only need this perhaps three or four times daily.
And at night, of course,” she smiled.
And they all lived… and fucked… happily, ever
after.