High above the princess as she tore through the books held within the dragon-hold, the Queen smiled as she lay upon the tufted cloth and awaited The Inquisitor. In her mind, she followed the sequence of events that must take place this day. Tonight was the High Moon, and if she met with success in her plans, not a soul in this realm, or any other, could ever unseat her.
But first, she must find release. Where was that damned fool? she thought. She needed to relieve her pent-up desire in order to focus on her plans. At present, her mind was overwhelmed with desire, enflamed by the strange music which had so affected the ladies of the castle.
At last she heard the scratch of his boots on the stone floor, and she smiled to herself. He drew close to the table, a sinister smiled under his white and gold mask.
"Behold, my Queen." said He. He began to unwrap a large bundle, wrapped in sumptuous indigo silk. From the bundle he drew a very large device and then a smaller one, and held them up for her to see. Her eyes, and her cunning smile, grew wide as she stared at the larger implement.
The device was fashioned from translucent blown glass. It was long and cylindrical, and throughout the glass were swirled softly colored red strands and trails. The tool began with a large oblong sphere, about the size of a small egg. From there, it swirled out in a graduating spiral, with little round beads of glass fused onto its outer ridges at intervals. Its length was a little shorter than a man's forearm, and it's larger end was nearly as big around. To it's base was fused some sort of bracket, which she assumed must fit into some sort of machine.
"Oh my." cooed the Queen, clearly impressed. She found it amusing that she could still be surprised by his inventions. She beheld the tool for a few moments, drinking in it's possibilities.
"And this as well." said He, showing her the next implement. Though not nearly as large as the first, this one was also quite formidable. Made from the same clear and red-ribboned glass, this one mirrored the large egg shape of its twin, but did not spiral larger beneath it. Instead, it smoothed down into a short rod shape, ending in a large flat disk. The Queen noted with relish a small insectine device embedded within the smaller device. Noting her gaze, The Inquisitor flicked the side of the tool, and the little machine inside began to beat it's wings, and the device hummed with it's own life.
"Lie back, my Queen." He directed, and she laid her head back. He came around the table in between her legs, and began to play there with his fingers, He made soft little circles around her engorged lips with the soft pads of his fingertips. Round and round they went, one hand playing upon her slick button, the other gently exploring her wet sex. Firmer and firmer, until all at once, his finger slipped inside, quickly followed by another. While he slid the two into her and then out and then in once again, his other hand and fingers stimulated her clitoris.
The fingers began to make wet noises as they slid in, another, and then another, the four inside stretching her delightfully. She was already greatly aroused, and began to moan deeply, pushing her hips down on his thrusting fingers. Her wetness slid around his many fingers, and down between her cheeks below.
"Yes, my tormentor!" she moaned. "Put them into me, make me sopping!"
The fingers playing upon her slick button gave way to his probing tongue and mouth. He latched onto her and licked and sucked while his fingers slid in again and again. Her hips ground against his masked face, the golden filigree rough against her smooth skin. She bucked against his mouth, and her moans increased as his long and pointed tongue slipped in and out along with his fingers.
He looked up from between her legs, his dark eyes beneath the mask meeting her, looking down at him from between her large heaving breasts. Smiling, he asked, "Does that please you, my Queen?"
"Oh yes!" she moaned. "Prepare me with those fingers... aaah yess, and the thumb as well!" As she squirmed his thumbed joined the rest of his fingers, slipping about inside of her, drawing all of them together like a point, before flexing them out, wider, wider, until her walls drew them completely in. She cried out as she stretched round his slick hand, her hips bucking faster and harder as his mouth returned to lash her once again.
As he suckled at her clitoris, he would bring his hand nearly out, stretching her wide, before sliding them back in slow. Into her, slowly withdrawing, and slowly deeper in went his fingers and palms. Her sex was soaking with her own wetness, added to by his mouth upon her.
