Queensland

The trappings of court were off now and she was in her private chambers. Her lady-in-waiting was with her, but here, the formality was dropped. She was not a "lady" actually, not a noble, but she and the queen had been fast friends since they were girls, and she managed the details of the queen's personal affairs: directing the staff for her queen's needs and wants, serving as trusted companion and confidante on matters about which no minister could opine.

"Your grace, you need to rest."

"I will. I will. Help me get these things off."

"You know I don't mean just getting to bed. You need REAL sleep. And some relaxation! It has been too long since you let me take care of the rest of your needs!"

The queen giggled like a girl. She knew what Kittley meant. And it had been a while... But she wanted to be talked into it.

"You are such a little slut. It's always about the men with you."

"And you pretend like you've never had a cock between your legs, and we both know your legs spread as easily as the next girl's. Sometimes easier!" Kittley continued to remove the robes and raiment of a day at court, revealing the queen's body. "You look amazing. Have I told you that every woman in the kingdom wishes she had your tits? As big as they are, and still as perky as a girl." In fact, she had been told before, and it was true. The queen's body was the envy of the court, and the sly envious glances of the women were as frequent as the stolen lustful glances of the men.

"I know what you need. Time to review the Palace Guard! I'll get you dressed for the occasion."

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The Queen moved slowly down the great hall, examining the armor, the uniforms, the weaponry, as the palace guards stood at attention in a single line. Disciplined as they were, their eyes were straight ahead until she addressed them. Kittley's choice of garment had raised the queen's breast until her cleavage was on spectacular display, but even so, their eyes never strayed. The Queen herself, however, was fully aware of how her chest looked, and equally, of the slit in her armored skirt, the heeled boots she wore, and short sword at her belt. Her shoulders were in armor, and a corset protected her slim waist. It was the ceremonial military uniform of the ladies of her house, appropriate to the occasion, and designed to make them the center of attention.

She passed slowly in front of each soldier. Kittley paced the Queen, but she walked behind the line of soldiers. They could not see her, but the Queen could. She tried to avoid Kittley's gaze from behind the line of as her lady-in-waiting made lewd gestures and mouthed messages about each man. For this one, it was a dismissive shake of the head, holding her thumb and forefinger a short two inches apart. Further down the line, an approving rubbing of her belly with her left hand, as her right simulated the stroking of a cock into her mouth. The Queen glared at her. Later, an almost audible, hissing "Yesss..." as she held up one arm, and made a slashing motion from fist to elbow. "THAT LONG!" she mouthed silently. The Queen's eyes grew wide, and she could feel the curiosity dampening her insides. Finally, at the end of the line, Kittley indicated girth with the circled fingers of both hands, then covered her crotch with her hands as she pressed her knees together, giving a faux frightened look. The Queen almost laughed out loud.

She completed the ceremony and dismissed the guards. The day's chores nearly complete, she and Kittley strolled the grounds until dusk.

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As the Queen settled into bed, Kittley gave her a kiss and began to leave. As she was about to close the door, she leaned back in briefly, "Don't doze off majesty - you have one more supplicant to see. Sweet dreams!" she cried out, over the queen's protest.

A few moments later, the door to her bedchamber opened. Kittley, dressed in black gowns, moved silently in, leading the chiseled frame of one of the largest palace guards the Queen had ever seen. They were hard to identify in their helmets, but this one she had seen. Knew him well, in fact. He had fought with her father, earned honors in combat, despite coming from a remote and exotic corner of the empire. He was in the real guards, not just a noble son doing a short ceremonial tour, and he often took part in the ritual combats that were always dangerous, and sometimes deadly. He was one of the most dangerous fighters in the guard, and with his size and strength came a grace and skill unusual in one so large. And he was young.

He still wore his armor, and Kittley drew him to a chair, sat him down, and removed his helmet. He knew why he was here. He would have been given the opportunity to decline, with no offense and no dishonor, but why would he? He needed to curry no favor, but his pleasure and hers would be reason enough to accept the invitation. But was there the faintest bit of nervousness in his breath? The wonder and the imagination catching up to an even more spectacular reality, as Kittley loosened the armor at his shoulders, waist, and thighs.

The Queen watched, her eyes drawn over the bulging muscles, the taught skin, and the smooth ebony of his hairless head. His skin shone clean and tight over the arms, the chest, the muscles of the abdomen. Kittley began to rub scented oil on his muscled chest, his arms, and shoulders, until he gleamed even more in the flickering candlelight. The queen felt her own arousal at the sight, imagining her own hands on that perfect body. Abruptly, Kittley stopped, and withdrew with a bow to the queen.

The queen advanced, and straddled him, without touching, and leaned forward until her voluptuous breasts almost touched his face. "Are you loyal, guard?" she whispered.

"I am, my queen" he whispered hoarsely back.

She had seen his strength, but he was motionless as stone beneath her. She felt the power of his body like a coiled spring beneath her. It was hard now for her not to press her hips down to him, and she began to rock her body, her breasts barely touching his face.

"Would you die for me?"

"I would."

"And will you live for me?"

"I do, my lady."

She sucked in a breath, and drew her hand around the back of his shaven head, drawing his face to her breasts. "And will you love me?" she whispered.

His head moved in response, pressing gently forward to her breasts. She sank down on top of him now, feeling the hardness between his legs. He was large as Kittley had said, and her pulse raced to think of that shaft inside her. He was young; just the sight of her would have made him fully hard, but now she began to work her hips, rubbing herself, in her silken gown, up and down his length.

She pulled up her skirt, and grasped his cock for the first time. They gasped in unison, he in pleasure, she in sheer surprise at the size and weight of his massive cock. His mouth locked onto her breast, and she felt a flood release within her. She pulled his cock straight up and held it to her hungry sex. Even when she put her weight down, it would not go in. She wriggled on it at first, desperate for it to stretch her, fill her, but it was too big.

She withdrew from his lap and knelt before him, staring up at him as she gripped the rock-like shaft with both hands. Up and down she pumped it, until in its eagerness his come began to drip from the tip. She brought her mouth to the head, swirling her tongue around it, and then, with a swift motion, engulfing it. She could get her mouth down no further than the first inch of the shaft, full as it was of the swollen head. She bobbed quickly up and down so that he popped in and out of her mouth, until he was wet and dripping with her saliva.

Swiftly she climbed onto him again. His cock was now wet from her mouth, and she herself was wetter than ever, intoxicated by the cock in her mouth. A soft moan escaped her lips as she began to work the huge head of his cock against her tight opening. Slowly she sank down on it, and then began to move up and down, feeling herself well and truly filled, and eagerly moving her body to its inevitable climax.

As she moved, he stayed still, letting her use his strong body and hard cock in any way she liked. Not long, however, his hands came to her hips, and she felt his hips began to move. He could hold back no longer. She stared down at him, working her pussy on the massive shaft, watching as his climax approached, and then feeling it flood into her as he pressed and pressed his pulsing cock into her.

She continued to move, more swiftly now, her pleasure heightened by the flood of cream inside her. She pumped her body up and down; his hands and lips electrified her nipples, connecting tits and pussy in a line of pleasure. His cock never softened, never shrank, filling her so fully, and she ground her hips against him while the cock moved inside her, stretching her, fulfilling her...

With a cry, her release flooded through her, and she clutched the solid body beneath her, anchored to its strength as the pleasure swept through her. She felt him begin to move again. This time he stood up, still inside her, her legs wrapped around her waist. Cradling her in his massive arms, he laid her down on the bed. He pumped his hips and she lifted her head to watch the dark flesh of his cock move in and out of the soft pink of her sex. She stared transfixed, surprised at the size her body could accommodate. Her body flexed as he pressed in, then withdrew, in and out, and then she reached down to squeeze the heavy balls that pressed against her. He stopped his motion, and she began to tug his balls while his cock was buried deep inside her. She watched his pleasure mount, felt his balls tighten, and his cock swell to impossible size within her. His explosive second climax exploded into her. He pressed in, and like a bursting dam, her own climax swirled shook her body, anchored around the cock that had just taken its own pleasure inside her.

They were together like that for several long moments. She pressed her hands lovingly to his face. She kissed his cheeks, then his forehead, and gave him a smile, and a nod that told him he could go. He withdrew, and she voiced her contentment: half moan, half sigh. Kittley glided in silently, gathering his raiment, and ushering him out.

The queen bathed, and then slept a most satisfying sleep.