I.
In the city of Amurkhan, wicked tales of the feverish lusts and outrageous sexual liaisons of the princess Elyse had long circulated amongst the gossips and busybodies of the royal courts. The princess was a young and sultry, long limbed beauty who had only just come past her nineteenth birthday. Golden haired, nimble limbed, endowed with luscious full round breasts and the ample hips and ass of a goddess, her lusts were legendary. The stories of her teenage trysts sparked the tongue of every wandering minstrel in the kingdom, and any royal courtier who had not known her favors at some time or another was seen as inadequate to his calling. And so it came to pass when rumors began to hint of her mysterious absence from the bawdy orgies long attended by the upper echelon of privileged society on each full moon, even the royal courtiers began to take notice amongst themselves, especially after it was revealed that none of them had shared the princess' bed for nearly a fortnight.
"Perhaps she has taken some other-worldly lover from the faery-lands," some suggested. But the wizened court wizards denied this possibility.
"No gates have been opened to the Otherworld," they testified. "No faery-lord dwells now amongst us."
Elyse cared not what rumors were spread about her. She was the princess, after all. She felt herself above the judgment of all those she ruled. It was her privilege to be the subject of gossips.
In the sultry heat of the midsummer night, she chose to remain alone in her silk-lined chamber, gazing into the polished silver mirror that stood at the end of her bed stand. Like all of her furniture, it was of exquisite craftsmanship and design. Framed in rich, dark grained ebony and intricately carved with cherubs and devils cavorting along its rim, the mirror itself was polished from a single piece of polished silver which had been no meager task to cast and mold. Elyse gazed at herself in that mirror, and she was not pleased.
Her fierce jade green eyes stared back at her. Her long hair was flaming gold, at present was a wild mass of curls that refused to stay near her head. Certainly, there were few who would not still call her beautiful, she thought, but perhaps that was only because she was the princess. She ran her hands down her long silken legs, letting them continue to wander across the softness of her lower belly. She pulled her blue silken robe more tightly about her breasts and laid back down on her bed, curling and stretching restlessly to find some position in which she might at last fall prey to Morpheus, the elusive god of sleep. But Morpheus refused to grant her desire for oblivion. She was transfixed in a state of tedium.
Idly and without thought, her slim hand wandered across the soft expanse of her loins.....and then still further to the silken fleece of her mons. Her fingers toyed for a moment in the golden curls of her womanhood. The heat of her sex dared her to venture further, urged her to plunge into the sweetness of pleasure, to surrender to the tremulous quivering of her own desire. But she refused to succumb. She knew it would give her no satisfaction, no true joy or release.
For a moment she entertained the notion of summoning one or more of her courtiers to her chambers in order to pleasure her, but she rejected the idea before it was formed. Such pallid waters could never begin to soothe the savage fires that now blazed within her. She bit down on her full lower lip rather hard in an attempt to stifle the tears that had come far too often to her eyes of late.
'What's wrong with me?' she asked herself silently. Her life had become a routine without variation or relief. Sex had always been her only real interest in this game, yet it gave her no satisfaction now, and in fact left her with a deep yearning for something as yet unnamed. She felt empty inside, weary from her fruitless attempts to satiate a hunger for which there seemed no fulfillment. She needed a change to be sure. There was no doubt about that. But what? She'd had tried men, women, animals, bondage, and nearly every variation of the outre' and bizarre, exploring even the more vicious and degrading aspects of sex in her search for release. She had participated in acts few would ever dare to imagine. These kinds of adventures had always kept her happy and amused before, at least temporarily, but now her emptiness, her need, only seemed to grow stronger, until it had become an unquenchable fire consuming her from within.
Abandoning any pretense of sleep, she rose and slipped into the silken robe that hung at the foot of her bed. She made her way out to the terrace, thinking the fresh air would help her. The stars shone with almost supernatural brilliance amidst a sky as black as a sea of oil. A gentle breeze danced through the tresses of Elyse's golden hair, carrying with it the scent of night jasmine. The tremulous laughter of young lovers cavorting on the cobble-stoned streets drifted up from below. Everything seemed to mock her for her own unreasonable unhappiness.
The soft breath of the evening stirred something again within her. Her hand crept once more to her aching loins. She cupped the soft ripeness of her mound, massaging the slippery inner lips of her desire. Her sex was afire. She rubbed at herself more fervently, spreading her silken juices until her entire sex was soaking wet. Her need momentarily consumed her. Two long fingers plunged deep inside of herself as her hips lurched upward in the fervency of her lust.
Collapsing onto the veranda, she cried until her tears would come no more. There came then a soft rap upon her chamber door. She rose and wiped her cheeks dry with the sleeve of her gown. She puled the violet hued gown tightly around her breasts with the sash and glanced at herself in her polished silver mirror. A tall amazonian girl stared back at her, her blonde hair wild and unbefitting her royal status, her green eyes staring back widely like a startled animal. She didn't care.
"Enter," she commanded.
One of the court pages, a timid lad just past puberty, poked his head thru the door. His eyes refused to leave the valley of her cleavage.
"The lady Hexylarra requests an audience," he announced.
"Good," Elyse replied. "Perhaps the old witch knows of some amusement or diversion that will please me on this most tedious of nights. Send her in."
The court page withdrew. Elyse heard the familiar wheezing laugh of Hexylarra. A moment later, the ancient sorceress herself entered the chamber. Her cracked and weathered lips opened in a grotesque smile that revealed the few teeth left in her mouth. Her flesh was parched and lifeless; it resembled one of the long-dead mummies that were buried in the tombs to the north of the Great River. Her dress sparkled with every movement. Legends said it had been woven from the finest silk of the Spider-Gods, and Elyse knew it was very expensive. On a younger, less emaciated woman, it would have looked absolutely stunning. But on the withered old crone, it was positively obscene.
"Well," Elyse prompted. "What prizes would you show me today?"
The lady Hexylarra was what some might call a witch or a wise woman, for her knowledge of spirits and otherworldly realms was very great. But the manner in which she chose to utilize her talents was an odd one, for Hexylarra was a pleasure merchant. She made her trade selling sexual devices of the most unusual varieties to the jaded princes and princesses of the royal court. In one withered hand she held her black case, her constant and infamous companion. Inside, she carried an assortment of magical items which she often bragged would satisfy any woman or man, no matter how bored or blase' they had become.
"I've just returned from a long journey," she said. "A dangerous and wearisome quest to be sure, but I've collected a grand assortment of new and unusual toys in my collection! One of them is sure to please you."
"Spare me the sales pitch," Elyse muttered impatiently. "Show me the goods."
Hexylarra made an overlong, elaborate business of unlocking and opening precious case. Elyse suspected this was to done to accentuate the drama of her presentation. She realized at once that Hexylarra's appearance at her door was no accident. Her temporary abstinence had apparently not gone unnoticed by the good citizens of Amurkhan. She did appreciate the diversion, even if it did prove to be only momentary (as she was sure it would). Still, perhaps her boredom could be suppressed for the nonce. That was all that mattered.
Hexylarra unrolled a dark hued cloth upon which she began to place various objects and parcels.
"Ever see one of these?" she asked, holding up a small glass cube to the candlelight. It seemed to be filled with nothing but ordinary water.