Peter Priper

Chapter 15

And always use protection

I stood before the gate of the Queen's palace wearing running shoes, rubber gloves, a fanny pack, and an olive green condom. Two unconscious guards lay on the ground below me. One was starting to snore.

You know what--let me back up a bit, because this is a weird situation even by my standards.

"The revolution begins tonight," Raven whispered to me as I was doing the dishes.

"You're up early," I said. I was being sarcastic. It was almost four.

"My father finally agreed to give me the weapons this revolution needs. FedEx might come at any minute." She yawned. "So when they get here I need you to run down and get the packages. Make sure no one else opens them. Also, you need to make me some coffee."

I put down my sponge. "I thought we were trying to overthrow the tyranny, so that everyone would be free and equal and so forth."

Raven nodded.

"So make your own damn coffee."

"I have important strategic planning to do." She headed back to her room.

"Last night you spent two straight hours posting pictures of black frock coats to Instagram."

"Lots of cream but no sugar," she replied, and shut her bedroom door.

I had no interest in Raven's alleged revolution, and putting her in charge would make for the least competent government in human history. But I'd been leaving messages at the palace for Genie for the past week, and she never called back. I was down there often enough to qualify as a stalker, but the guards always blocked the gate with their spears and said she wasn't in. Or she was, but she was in a meeting. Or she was in the bath. I swung by twice more that afternoon, and apparently she takes some long baths. Serious toe wrinklage going on there.

I was getting desperate. I had to talk to her at least, find out why she ran off on me like that. It was time for drastic action--so drastic, in fact, that I was willing to get Raven Darkness involved.

And so I convinced her it was time for her revolution. She then had some hysterical phone calls with her father. Who apparently uses FedEx to send his superweapons.

FedEx[TM]. The supervillain's choice since 2018.

After the girls went to bed Abby and I went to the picnic table outside. There were two boxes, one small, and one almost three feet to a side, but oddly light. She opened the smaller one first, and pulled out a pair of nunchucks.

"Finally realized that a fan is not an effective weapon?" I asked.

"I just need more training with them," she said. She went into a martial arts stances and started whipping the nunchucks around, slapping them against her side and her shoulders.

"Yes, very fierce," I said.

She stopped, looking puzzled. "This hurts. Why am I doing this?"

"I often ask that question."

"The revolution does not need your snarky-ass comments. Bring me the ultimate weapon." I put the big box on the table. She solemnly cut it open with a knife, pulled out some paper wrapping, and lifted out a smaller box. She cut that one open, and slid out another box in styrofoam inserts. Which contained another box. Which also contained a box.

"What the hell?" I said.

"This is so dangerous," said Raven as she slid out box number six, "it has to be carefully packaged." A few minutes later, she got to a box the size of a package of tea. "I think this is it." She put on rubber gloves, and carefully opened it, and took out a box the size you'd put a ring in. "Okay, this is it." She opened it very slowly, grabbed a pair of tongs, and lifted out a single condom. The wrapper read "US ARMY - SPECIAL WEAPONS LABORATORY".

"Let me guess," I said. "It's a stealth condom. It's there but you can't even feel it."

"I said, no more snarky comments."

"No, wait. It's armour-piercing. You can get laid without even unzipping your pants."

"This, you jackass, is a condoom."

"What the fuck is that?"

"It's coated in fast-acting sedatives. Anyone who touches the outside of a condoom will lose consciousness."

"Anyone who touches my dick falls asleep."

"Yes."

"And this is your superweapon?"

She nodded. "My dad said the Americans spent 17 million dollars developing it before someone noticed it's useless, both for military and sexual purposes. Until now! You can use it to take out the Queen's guards."

I sighed. "I should have known. Someday, somehow, the US Army would weaponize my boner. I better take a leak before we put that thing on."

So anyway, that was how I ended up standing at the gate of the Queen's palace wearing running shoes, rubber gloves, and an olive green condom. The guards were staring at me, for obvious reasons.

"I was just doing some dishes and decided I'd go for a run," I said nonchalantly. "You guys put any money on the game tonight?"

The guards were both big soccer fans, as I'd discovered during my weeks of stalking the Queen. "I got ten euros on Arsenal," said the one on the left.

I chuckled. "Well, good luck to you. You're going to need it, betting on Arsenal."

"He never learns," said the other guard.

"You know," I said, "you can rub my dick for good luck." The guards raised their eyebrows. "It's like rubbing the fat Buddha's belly."

The guard on the left smiled. He'd always had a bit of a crush on me. He reached down and stroked my cock. Two times, and then his hand went limp, and his eyes rolled back, and he collapsed.

"Holy shit!" said the other guard. He crouched down to check on his friend, and with a jerk of my pelvis I poked my dick into his forehead. He started wavering. "This is...some kind of trick...isn't it..."

"Sorry, guys."

He slumped over on top of the other guard. The one on the bottom started snoring.

Raven dropped down from the wall, her tiny skirt flying up as she landed. "Good work." She grabbed the keys off one of the guards and unlocked the door.

In the anteroom were several more guards, and a couple of officials. I recognized Frank--he was always kind of an jerk, but he did seem to be the only person around here who actually did any work. "Are you allowed to be in here?"

"Hell, no!" shouted Raven. "This is a coup!" She charged the nearest guard and swung her nunchucks, wrapping the chain around his spear and pulling it right out of his very surprised hand.

I ran for Frank. "Sorry, bud," I said as I whacked him in the thigh with my boner. We were lucky that the Hearts wore so little clothing. The guards all wore kilts, and Frank was in the shortest, tightest, gayest pair of cutoffs I'd ever seen. I swung my cock around in the melee, yanking up kilts and jabbing my dick into buttocks. Raven tripped one girl with her nunchucks, and I slid over and slapped her in the ear with my boner. Soon all of them were lying in a heap.

"What the hell?" came a voice. The Queen's herald was staring at us from across the room. She darted down a hallway, and I chased after her, waggling my dick.

"This is sexual harassment!" she yelled. "MeToo is going to hear about this!" She went up a flight of stairs. At the top, she tripped and sprawled out on the floor. She was wearing a blazer with nothing underneath. It flew open when she fell, and I leapt on top of her, and pressed my cock into her left boob.

She shook her head. "This is just how that gypsy said I would go," she murmured, and she was out.

She was one of those girls who was super-cute when she was asleep. I would of course never take advantage of an unconscious girl, that being utterly and thoroughly despicable. So I just gave her one boob a quick squeeze. "Maybe I should leave her an apology card or something, maybe with my phone number."

"Don't get distracted," said Raven. "Now, if I remember right--yes! That fool led us right to our target." She ran to a door at the end of the hall. "This should be the Queen's own bedroom." She flung the door open and did a flip into the room.

The Queen was curled up on the couch in front of the TV. She wore a ratty oversized Roughriders t-shirt and slippers. In her lap was a plastic bowl of popcorn. She gave us a look of absolute horror. "WHAT THE HELL?" she screamed.

"This is a coup!" yelled Raven. "Your reign of terror is over, bitch!"

"YOU CAN'T JUST BUST IN ON ME WITH NO WARNING! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?" Genie flung the bowl of popcorn at Raven. "OUT! OUT!"

Raven backed out and closed the door. "Yeesh," she said. She brushed a piece of popcorn out of her hair.

I toyed nervously with the flowers in the vase by the door.

About a minute later came Genie's voice. "You can come in now."

Raven flung the door open and did a flip into the room. I grabbed a handful of flowers and followed her. The Queen was sitting on the couch sipping a glass of champagne. She was wearing black stockings that went up over her knees and gloves that went past her elbows, a little black nightie and a sheer robe. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders. C-SPAN was on the TV, and there was jazzy piano music playing.

"This is a coup!" yelled Raven. "Your reign of terror is over, bitch!"

I walked up behind her. "Sorry, but no," I said. And I lifted up her skirt and stabbed her in the ass with my dick.

She whirled around to look at me, her eyes already starting to close. "You betrayed me," she mumbled, and collapsed. I caught her, and laid her down on a loveseat. She looked peaceful. Also her ass was sticking out from under her skirt. I liked that too.

"I'll just pull these off," I said. I yanked off the condoom and the rubber gloves and tossed them on the floor.

Genie was looking down her nose at me. "You going to explain why you broke into my palace in the middle of the night?"

"Well, you didn't return any of my calls."

"I'm still waiting for the part that explains why you broke in."

"I brought flowers." I held them up.

"Those look awfully familiar."

I opened up the fanny pack and took out a box of chocolates. "I brought these, too. And I didn't even steal them from you." I went over to the couch, popcorn crunching under my feet.

She took the chocolates and smiled. "I do like these. Champagne?" She waved at the icer.

"No, thanks."

"It didn't have time to chill anyway," she said. "You know what, the herald's on duty. I'll have her bring some cold beer."

"Warm champagne's fine," I said. "Really. We don't need to bother her."

Genie shrugged. She opened up the box and offered it to me. "You can have the round one in the corner."

"What is it?"

"Maraschino cherry."

"What's this one?"

From out of thin air she produced a riding crop and slapped my wrist. "That's praline and don't you dare touch it."

"Maraschino cherry it is."

She took the box back and shoved both praline chocolates in her mouth. "Oh, these are so good. I'm eating them now before you can get to them."

I waited for her to finish chewing, just looking at her legs stretched out in front of her. "So," I said. "You ran off awfully suddenly the other night."

"I remembered I had a conference call with the Illuminati."

"In the middle of the night?"

"They work odd hours."

"What are you so nervous about?"

"I'm not nervous!" She crossed and uncrossed her legs several times. She was already fidgeting with her champagne glass and chewing on the fingertips of her gloves. "I am definitely not nervous." She popped two more chocolates into her mouth, and said with her mouth full, "I am the Queen of Hearts, and I am not nervous about anything."

"Genie..." I laid my hand on her upper arm, and she jumped about two feet in the air. "You look a little nervous."

"I am not nervous." She sat down on the couch and put her arm around me. "I am just excited about the prospect of sleeping with you but I just remembered that I have a conference call with the Illuminati in a few minutes. You can see yourself out, right?"

"You already used that excuse."

"Crap."

"If you don't want to have sex, that's fine."

"Well, of course I want to have sex," she said with her mouth full. She was eating the rest of the chocolates as fast as she could. "I love sex. I have it all the time." Or I think that's what she said. That last bit came out "mall mah mime".

"Honestly," I said, "I think I just broke in here for a conversation or something. Retta and her friends are not the most interesting conversationalists."

"Well, of course you don't want to have sex with me," she said. "I'm sitting on the couch stuffing my face with chocolates. I must look ridiculous."

"You don't look ridiculous."

"I do look ridiculous, and you're just saying that because I'm the Queen and I'll cut your head off if you don't. Oh my God, that sounded so insecure." She started fanning herself with her hands. "I sound insecure. I can't be insecure, I'm the Queen. Oh my God, I'm hyperventilating. Peter, I'm hyperventilating! Get me a paper bag! I need a paper bag!"

I reached over and kissed her, and stroked her arm. She started kissing me back once she stopped panting.

"That works better than the bag," she murmured.

We kissed a bit more and then she curled up, hugging her knees. I had my arm around her and toyed with her hair. "Maybe it would do you good to talk to someone," I said.

She sighed. "I might not have had sex in a little while. I mean, I've been eaten out a few times, and I whip the local masochists, and I have a very impressive vibrator collection. But every time I try to have actual sex, I have a panic attack."

"I think you're just worrying about it too much."

"I have to worry! I'm the Queen of Hearts. The Queen of Hearts can't be a crappy lover. But I just get so nervous, and I get worried that it's going to suck because I'm so nervous, and I get more nervous, and...and now of course I'm totally out of practice, because it's been so long."

"When did this start?" I said. It seemed like a psychiatristy thing to say.

"When the King left. He ran off with a younger genie that he found at the bottom of a cereal box. Apparently she could grant wishes."

"So can you."

She sighed. "I can only grant wishes that people don't want. It's not exactly a superpower."

"I wanted that third wish. The one about having sex with a beautiful genie."

"And could I grant that one?" She pulled away from me, into the corner of the couch, where she hugged a pillow. "You wouldn't like sleeping with me anyway. I'm a fraud."

"Of course I would. You don't have to just leap into it like it's the fucking Olympics. You have a wonderful body, and I would like to explore it, find out what turns you on. I don't mind if that takes a little while. It's half the fun." I took one of her feet and rubbed it, and ran my hand up her thigh. "You do have a really amazing body. You're so beautiful. You were even beautiful in that t-shirt--"

She pulled her foot away and kicked me. "We will never speak of that again."

I had an idea. "You know I'm a sex robot, right?"

"You kept saying you weren't one."

I considered it for half a second--meh, fuck it. I've told worse lies to get laid. "I was in denial for a bit there, but this morning I got a software update and now I feel much better. The point is, you don't have to worry with me. I'm programmed to give positive, constructive feedback. 'That was great, honey, and maybe next time try using your teeth a bit less.'"

Genie snorted and hid her face again. "I'm the Queen. No one's going to tell me it was bad. It doesn't mean they're not thinking it, though."

"But here's the thing." I took her leg again and caressed it. "See, I can't think it. I am incapable of not enjoying sex. I like whatever my partner does. I won't judge you, Genie. My programming literally does not allow it."

"Really," she said. She had a twinkle in her eyes. "I do like what you do with your tongue."

"I'm glad to hear that." I kissed her on the mouth, and started slowly moving down from there.

#

I woke up in late morning, I think, going by the sun coming in the curtains. There was something buzzing and clicking over me. A flying saucer? I thought. No, Genie was behind it. A vacuum cleaner? Why is she vacuuming me?

"Genie?" I rubbed my eyes. "Is that--a metal detector?"

She peered at its screen. "AHA! You lied to me!"

"Okay, yes, I did." I stretched. "Sorry."

"That has got to be the most ridiculous lie anyone's ever told to get laid."

I thought back to the summer of '98. "No. No, it is not. Besides, it was worth it. You relaxed and enjoyed yourself instead of worrying."

"Maybe it was," she said, smiling. "I'm still going to punish you, though." She climbed on top of me. "I don't know, probably appoint you Queen Consort or something."

"That's a punishment?"

"I've been a bad queen," she said dreamily. "All this time I was only thinking about myself and my own problems, and not about my subjects. Really, the one who should be punished is me."

"Um," I said. "Sure. That makes sense, I guess."

"And it's been a long time since I was properly punished. Heavy is the head that wears the crown, as they say. So," and she ran her fingers over my chest, "we'll get to you later, all right?"

"Your wish is my command."

"My father was a diplomat," she said, "and my mother was the last surviving descendant of Anastasia Romanov. I spent most of my childhood at a very strict boarding school in the Swiss Alps. Saint Madeleine's de Bouche."

"Really?" I said. "From the Roughriders shirt I figured you were from Sask--"

She was sitting on top of me completely naked, not even within reach of a crumpled bedsheet, and there was absolutely no place she could hide a riding crop. And yet somehow there was a riding crop in her hand. She whacked me on the side. "Not speaking of that again!"

"Yes, your Majesty."

"My point is," and she leaned over and whispered in my ear, "my old school uniform still fits."

"Is that so?" I said.

An excited grin on her face, she handed me the riding crop. "You'll need this. Rope's under the bed. I'll go get dressed."