“Still naughty.” She whispered.
She pressed the button until she couldn’t take the waves of pulsing energy any longer. If there were really magic in the world, Harmony thought, it must come from this spot. She twirled her sticky finger over it and tortured herself with greater pleasure. She imagined flicking it the way she did her nipples when no one was watching and she wanted to punish herself. The thought of it made her pulse throb hot in her head and she blinked. That was too much to imagine, but she decided to save it for later – for a time when she had been very, very bad.
Harmony slid her finger down and into the opening she knew her new king would want to conquer soon. She knew what men did in their conquests of this magic spot, but she had yet to experience it. She had used many objects in the shape of a man’s weapon of lust before, some quite large the way she imagined the captain to be under his cod piece, but she had never experienced the fleshy reality.
As she pumped her finger in and out, she felt the fear of feeling her first love from a man nearly as old as her father. King’s that took wives to seal political alliances over land were always older men. Maybe his lust would be softer and she could easily take it for her first real try. She hoped he would not be soft all the time in his length nor in his touch. She would have packed some of her favorite, hard toys, but others had packed for her, so those hidden treasures were left behind.
She would have to make due. Princess Harmony inserted two more fingers with the first and enjoyed the stretch. She let out a moan not caring if King Girthton’s drivers heard or not. If they would not talk to her, they could talk about her after they were done hearing her play in the carriage under them.
She thought about her father’s captain waving, smiling, and blowing a malicious kiss as she was taken away to experience another man. She wondered if he would think about her being taken. Men had to think about something when they serviced themselves. She knew they all did as she snuck through the castle at night listening and sometimes watching from the shadows.
Harmony worked herself faster and harder. She used her other hand to lift her own breast and feed her burning nipples into her mouth. Her tongue and lips soothed their heat while adding heat below.
***
As she thought about her hatred for the captain and his leaving her – dismissing her, she thought about what she had never gotten to see under his cod piece. The swirl of hot anger and dark desire pushed her over into an orgasm.
Harmony sucked herself and moved her slick fingers out over the button again. She twirled and pulled at it as she rode the waves of pleasure. At the end, she gave the magic spot one, light flick and she nearly passed out from the kick of sensation.
This would have been quite a state for her to be found, if she had fainted and they opened the carriage to find her.
She released her nipple from her lips and withdrew her hand. Harmony licked her fingers and then slid them back into the glove.
She ordered herself. “Stop, naughty girl.”
But she did not listen. Harmony slid her gloved hand back into her garments. She tortured her folds and throbbing parts with light touches from the rough material.
The carriage rumbled to a stop and she drew her gloved hand out fast enough to make her undergarments snap against her skin. She looked up above her through her window and saw the battlements of a castle, the spires of high towers, and red banners that bore no markings accept for one long straight black sword.
“That’s a bit to the point, isn’t it?” Harmony said.
The palace was not as large as her fathers, but the dark stone made it look imposing. She wondered where they would find blackened stone to use and why they would cut such a thing into block for a castle instead of something brighter and more regal like her father’s castle.
She started to sit up and straighten herself as she imagined guards looking down and possibly glimpsing her inside the carriage. Then, a naughty grin crossed her face.
Harmony pulled the skirts of her gown down, but still left her milky thighs showing. When she sat up, she knew how to flash the lace without looking like she had meant to do so. She pulled up and straightened her bodice, but left just a hint of each nipple showing above the gown – enough to appear unintentional.
As the drivers climbed down from the driver’s bench and shook the stilled carriage, Harmony folded her arm under her neck and turned her head. She closed her eyes and pretended to be unkempt due to sleep. The king’s drivers would be forced to address her while staring at their own boots. Their discomfort would be her payback for their disregard. They would notice her now.
The door opened and light shown through her closed eyelids. She took one long slow breath that she knew would heave her chest as she pretended to sleep. Their lack of comment and silent stares began to bother and offend her. How dare they stare at the queen like this?
“My lady?” A voice spoke finally, but it did not sound like a man. Harmony thought she might be flashing herself to some boy. “Queen consort?”
The second bit hit Harmony unprepared. Were they calling her that because she was not yet married to their king or because she was just his political prize and she would never truly be a queen – no different than had she remained tenth born in her father’s palace.
Harmony opened her eyes and allowed them to adjust through the sunlight. She saw the boots shining dark with the trousers tucked neatly in the tops. She saw the bright, red blouses with buttons in the front darkened to appear like a black sword on the fronts of the uniforms. Where the hilts would be up near the drivers’ necks, the shirts were unbuttoned down to cleavage. The women had their hair tied tight on top of their heads. Each had two pins like tiny, black swords stabbed through the buns to hold them in place.
Harmony’s eyes widened and she sat up. She smoothed down her gown and pulled up the top to cover herself. “Who are you two?”
The women stepped aside showing a red carpet leading into the open gate of the palace. Embroidered black swords marked both sides of the carpet all the way inside.
Two lines of women in armor lined both sides of the path facing one another. They held thin, black swords down by their sides. Their chainmail hung over their fronts accenting the different sizes and curvatures of their breasts. Silver helmets hid their hair and chainmail veils draped down framing their severe faces.
She did not see a single man in sight.
One of the drivers said, “I will show you to your quarters where you will await the king.”
The other driver stepped aside and climbed back up on the bench.
Harmony gathered her skirts and stepped out onto the carpet. The driver on the ground closed the door and the carriage rolled away behind them.
Harmony held a hand out to the retreating carriage. “My things. Will someone bring them to me?”
“They will be destroyed, my lady.”
***
Harmony’s jaw dropped open. “How dare you? I am a queen and those are my things.”
“Queen consort.” The driver corrected and faced forward. “We have only what our king grants us and the things he has granted you are in your quarters. Shall we?”
Harmony opened and closed her mouth twice, but couldn’t produce any words. She turned forward and began walking. The driver fell in beside her.
The guards on both side raised their swords in unison to point them at an angle toward the sky. The motion was so sharp and swift that Harmony actually recoiled and let out a squeak. She had seen processions similar to this dozens of times, but something about this one unsettled her.
The driver stopped next to Harmony and waited, but did not offer any words of comfort or encouragement.
Harmony resumed walking under the women warriors’ swords with the driver at her side. Harmony could not decide what to do with her hands, so she kept folding and unfolding them.
The lack of trumpets bothered her. There were usually horns. This was utter silence except for the wind. Each pairing o
f swordswomen lowered their weapons back to their sides after Harmony had passed with the same severe motion as when they raised them. She feared that if she stumbled or missed a step they might clip her with their dark weapons.
They entered the palace grounds and the dark gate rattled down to slam closed behind them. She looked back through the squares of the gate’s bars and saw the female guards standing along the carpet with swords down and eyes forward at one another. They showed no signs of moving and remained silent.
About the grounds, she saw much activity.
Archers practiced with targets on hay bails. They were all women and stripped to the waist with their breasts bound out of their line of draw by leather belts synched tight over their nipples mounding the flesh above and below the leather as they fired their arrows.
A larger woman in an open shed hammered red hot iron across the top of an anvil. Smoke billowed up from the chimney of her furnaces and out through the open face of her smithery shed.
A few women riders crossed Harmony’s path. They were girded for a hunt and circled toward the gate that had just slammed closed. She looked back, but could no longer see the silent greeting procession on the other side.
“This way,” the driver said.
Harmony followed beside the driver up steps that led out of the sun and through towering doors into the cold shadows of the black stone castle.
“Is everyone here a woman?”
“How do you mean?”
Harmony could not tell if the driver was being purposely obtuse or if she actually did not understand Harmony’s meaning.
Queen Consort Harmony said, “Every person I have seen since I arrived and was unlocked from my carriage has been a woman. The guards, the smith, the naked archers, the huntswomen, and you are all women. Are there any men in this kingdom?”
They turned at the end of a passage and climbed another stair that spiraled. The driver finally answered. “King Girthton is a man.”
Harmony nodded, but them shook her head and looked away as they spiraled up. “Well, good to know. Does he keep the entire kingdom populated with his own manhood?”
“He does his best, my lady,” the driver said.
Harmony narrowed her eyes, but did not look away from the stairs. She was not certain whether the driver was jesting or not. “Are there really no men in the kingdom, but him?”
“As far as you are concerned, he is the only one.”
Harmony swallowed as they reached the top of the stairs and the driver pulled a ring of keys from her pocket. She rummaged through them.
“Is the king the only man you see in your service, driver?”
The driver unlocked the door and pushed it open. “Men have their place under King Girthton’s rule, but it is a different sort of place. Enter, my lady.”
Harmony stepped inside.
There was a large four post bed. It was large in the sense that the stack of mattresses rose above her head and had their own stairs to reach the top. The bed was as wide as a dozen beds formed into a wide square. The red covers were one continuous cloth that covered the entire structure and draped to the floor.
There was a wooden horse with a leather saddle on its wooden back.
There was a swing suspended from metal chains that extended from the high ceiling to the wooden seat.
Mirrors lined the walls and made her feel dizzy seeing herself from so many angles.
“Am I to live here or simply wait here for something?”
“That is up to the king as with all things.”
Harmony shook her head. “I can’t live here. There is no closet for my clothes. The windows are too high for me to see out. The bed is like something from a nightmare fairy story. I will roll off in my sleep and die from the fall.”
The driver shrugged causing the keys to rattle in her grasp. “Sleep closer to the middle, I suppose, my lady. Take it up with the king, but be sure he is well pleased before you ask him for gifts.”
Harmony gritted her teeth. “Don’t speak to me about such intimate things.”
“As you wish,” the driver said. “You will need to remove your clothes and give those to me.”
“Excuse me?” Harmony took a step away.
“The king allowed you to wear this gown on your way inside, but it is not something he gave you, so you may not keep it. He will give you other clothes when he so wishes.”
Harmony licked her teeth and then said, “I’m not undressing in front of you and especially not without something else to wear.”
“It is the king’s wish.” The driver held out her hands.
“I will speak to the king about this myself when he comes,” Harmony said.
“I have been ordered,” the driver said in a lowered tone, “to take them off of you, if you do not give them up willingly.”
“You would put your hands on your queen?”
***
“Queen consort and, yes, if I was ordered by the king, which I have been. Remove them, please, my lady.”
Harmony swallowed and placed her gloved hands on her hips. “You wish to see the queen consort naked, do you?”
“You already showed most of it in the carriage,” the driver said, “and my wishes matter not. This is the king’s wish and it matters greatly.”
Harmony stared into the driver’s eyes, but saw no give. Harmony looked away and slipped her gown down off her breasts. It dropped to the floor and she stepped out. Her nipples were still hard and sensitive from her rough play earlier.
“Here you go, driver.”
The driver bent and folded the gown over her arms. Harmony saw the curve of the driver’s buttocks in her trousers and down her open shirt as her breasts hung. Harmony wondered if she could order the driver to undress as well. She suspected not. Maybe she could ask the king to make her do it.
The driver stood back up holding the gown. “Your undergarments, my lady.”
Harmony smiled and drew fingers through the lace over her magic button. “Do you like them? They are my finest decoration so seldom seen.”
“Remove them.”
Harmony dropped her hands and her smile. “You are not serious.”
“All your clothes. The king was quite clear.”
Harmony stuck her gloved thumbs into the material. The feeling of the rough texture made her want to touch herself despite the driver watching. Harmony pulled them down as she bent over. She stepped out of one side and balanced as she lifted them up on the end of one foot. The driver lifted them off.
Harmony set her foot back down and spread her legs slightly apart. She rested her gloved hands on her naked hips. The exposure made her feel dirty and she thought about spankings she had taken from her father’s attendants just for showing her undergarments. How much would she be spanked had she ever stood before anyone like this?
“The shoes.”
Harmony licked her lips, but her mouth had gone dry. She stepped back out of each shoe. “They are slippers. They are finely crafted. If you take them, do not lose them. I will be demanding them back.”
The driver bent to lift them. Harmony watched again and tried to decide if she preferred to ask for her slippers back or for the driver’s clothes.
When she stood again, the driver said, “Are these glass?”
“They are. Do not drop them.”
“Odd. That can’t be at all comfortable,” the driver said. She did not wait for an answer. “And the gloves.”
Harmony dropped open her mouth. She ran the material up and down her naked body one last time. She brushed over her nipples and then pulled off the gloves.
The driver turned and walked out the door with Harmony’s things. “You will wait here.”
“For how long?”
The driver closed the door without answering and Harmony heard the keys turning in the lock.
There was nowhere in the room where she could look without seeing her nakedness reflected back by one of the mirrors. Her breasts from the side. A hint of nipple
looking at her breasts from three-quarters turn. Her buttocks as she walked from every angle. The way he folds between her legs moved and pulsed with her muscles with every step. She saw herself in ways she had not imagined before. She was embarrassed and fascinated.
Harmony sighed and slapped her own buttocks. The sound carried around the broad room. She slapped harder. The mirrors showed the rosy glow of her own handprints.
She pushed the swing by its chains. It rocked to and fro. She wagered that it could swing quite high in this space from these great lengths of chain. Were she not naked, she would have tried it to pass the time.
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