Trial Of Five Ch 05

Princess Wyndillyn, First of Her Name, Heir to the Throne, Lady of Aurums, Flower of Lonestone, was... distracted. She stood upon the balcony of her quarters, hands daintily resting on the railing as she overlooked the city below as the sun just began to peak over the horizon.

She blinked. There was oddly something discordant about her routine this morning. She did the same thing she had done every day; groan and complain to the servants until they let her sleep for another twenty minutes, roll out of bed once that time was up, insist on brushing her own hair, then step out onto the balcony to bask in the sun's rays. Yet today felt... different. Strange.

"Something wrong, princess?" a voice behind Wyndillyn said. She glanced over her shoulder to see her dutiful guard standing at attention by the door. Ever since they had both been thirteen, that woman had been her honor guard and sworn sword. They had also been friends just as long. Wyndillyn smiled as she took in the woman's ginger hair, black painted lips and fingernails, and sterling white armor. She felt only the slightest bit of flustered heat in her body at seeing the imposing woman.

Wyndillyn blinked again as she was hit by another wave of confusion. Her guard was... familiar in a way she couldn't quite define. It was almost... primal. She immediately discarded the thought, however, of

course

Guard was familiar. They'd practically been raised together in the palace.

"Does something feel different to you about today?" Wyndillyn asked. "I can't quite put my finger on it."

"I would hope so," Guard said. "It's your coronation, after all."

Wyndillyn started, but relaxed as the memories returned to her. "Oh! Of... of course it is. Still rather groggy, I suppose."

Guard's lips quirked up into a sly smile. "You did sleep rather heavily."

Something buzzed at the back of Wyndillyn's brain. Had... she and Guard shared a bed last night? No, that would've been improper. Unless they...? Why were the memories so fuzzy?

"We probably shouldn't dally too long, princess. You need to get ready." Guard's voice pulled her out of her puzzlement.

Wyndillyn looked down, realizing she was still in her frilly, lavender-colored nightgown and blushed as she realized just how much of her was on display for Guard. She wasn't sure

why

, though. It... it was just

Guard

.

"Right!" Wyndillyn nodded and stepped back inside at Guard's gesture. Her immense and opulent room was just as she'd always remembered it. Wonderfully furnished with plenty of lounging space, her four-poster bed with gossamer drapes, and a large swath of the room dedicated specifically as a parlor for her to preen at.

"Your undergarments are on the chair there." Guard nodded to indicate which chair. "I picked them out myself."

Wyndillyn smiled at the thoughtfulness, then frowned. "You did? Not... not another servant?"

She was met with a confused look. "Why would another servant pick out your clothing for you?"

"Um... I... I don't know," Wyndillyn said honestly. Trying to hide her embarrassment, she flitted her way over to the parlor and found the chair before her vanity. A lacey pair of burgundy lingerie—garters and stockings and all—were laid out for her. "Um..." Wyndillyn said as she picked up the brassiere with a thumb and forefinger. "Is this appropriate?"

Guard just tilted her head at her. "Of course. They're the finest garments in the kingdom, you've never settled for anything less before, princess."

Wyndillyn bit her lip and nodded. Of... of course. That made sense. Besides, she couldn't help but feel a thrill in her heart at the thought of wearing such clothing. She'd look positively

ravishing

in these.

"Right!" Wyndillyn said with a confident nod. She turned to Guard and waited.

"Well?" the woman continued to stare at her. "What are you waiting for?"

"For some privacy?" Wyndillyn said. Guard was nice to have around and everything, but, as pretty and handy and trustworthy as she was, a girl needed a moment alone to change.

"Princess." Guard blinked at her slowly. "I have sworn to protect you at all costs. My life ends when yours does or before. I am to never leave you during the waking hours. Your body is nothing I haven't seen before."

Wyndillyn's head whirled again. That... that was happening a lot today. Maybe she was ill?

"Is everything all right?" Guard asked, suddenly concerned.

Wyndillyn nodded. "Just... just stressed for today, is all."

"Understood."

Princess Wyndillyn only hesitated for a moment longer, giving Guard a furtive glance and blushing once more before removing her nightgown. She began to put on her undergarments, but found the process to be more tedious than she expected.

"Allow me," Guard said, suddenly very close behind her.

"Oh!" Wyndillyn squeaked as firm hands suddenly grasped the straps of her bra and helped set them in place. They then proceeded to continue with the rest of the ensemble. Wyndillyn felt her heart thrum wildly. This... this wasn't proper, was it?

Of course it is,

she thought to herself.

Guard is your friend. This is what friends... and servants are for.

Still, Wyndillyn couldn't help but notice a heat blossoming down below and began radiating throughout the rest of her body as her valiant knight continued dressing her. The process was slow and more than a little handsy. Wyndillyn sighed as she felt and heard Guard's hot breath against her ear. A hand grabbed her waist steady as the other positioned the strap of her panties so that it was nice and snug between her asscheeks. Wyndillyn couldn't stop the thought of Guard's tongue buried in those cheeks from springing unbidden into her mind.

"Theeeere we go~" Guard said in a soft, sultry voice. "Take a look."

Wyndillyn looked into the standing mirror next to her vanity. She looked... stunning. The garb accentuated her form in all the right ways. She couldn't help but giggle as she posed in front of the mirror, picturing the way that noble court would be ogling at her curves. And, behind her, Guard stood with a pleasant smile on her face.

Black-tipped fingers, so soft, yet so strong, gently stroked up and down her ribcage, forcing Wyndillyn to shudder.

"Oh, sensitive this morning, are we?" Guard asked, her tone playful and her smile turning more into a smirk.

"Erm..." was all Wyndillyn could think so say as those fingers trailed higher, and higher, and higher until...

Princess Wyndillyn gasped as hands cupped the underside of her breasts. She squeaked and brushed them away. "S-stop! This isn't right!"

Guard frowned. "What isn't?"

"T-the touching! I'm a princess! I need to save myself for... for... another high lady or something!"

"I... apologize if I did something wrong, my princess," Guard said solemnly. "I was simply admiring your beauty."

"Well, you can admire it

without

your hands!" She crossed her arms over her chest and raised her chin in a show of authority.

Guard lowered her head into a bow and brought a hand up to her breastplate. "Forgive me. But, surely, you can see why it was so easy to make such a folly. You truly are the fairest woman in all the land..." She gestured back to the mirror and Wyndillyn glanced into it. Guard... did have a point. Wyndillyn was practically

radiant

. Everything about her was perfect. She smiled as she admired the curve of her hips and waist, giggled as her chest swayed with her motions, and felt a glimmer of pride at the way her posterior protruded in such a tantalizing way. Truly, she was a prize for the ages.

"I suppose I can forgive such an honest mistake," she found herself saying, continuing to watch. Her form in the mirror was suddenly so fascinating. Had the reflected surface always had that... iridescent quality to it? It almost seemed to pulse with a... with a color that Wyndillyn couldn't quite see, but

felt

instead. Her arms slowly fell from her chest.

"Yes, such a pretty girl." Wyndillyn sighed at the praise, unable to look away from herself as she felt a soft hand stroke her hair and pet her scalp while another began to trace a line down her shoulder. Shouldn't... shouldn't she stop that?

It's fine. She's not touching my boobs again,

Wyndillyn thought and nodded in agreement to herself as she took another pose in the mirror.

"You'll make such a lovely queen," Guard said, patting Wyndillyn's head in a way that was almost condescending. That couldn't be right, though. "How could you not with a body like this?"

Wyndillyn couldn't look away. She didn't

want

to look away. Even when her eyes went glassy and a line of drool began to slide from the corner of her mouth. Guard handled that, though, wiping it away with her thumb and cupping her princess's cheek. Wyndillyn couldn't help but nuzzle it.

The hand on her shoulder had begun to travel dangerously low. "Your bra appears a little out of place. Would it offend my princess if I were to fix it?"

Wyndillyn just absently shook her head. She couldn't look away from her reflection's eyes, her skin, her breasts. She was just so... perfect.

Hands made a show of adjusting her top, but were mostly just squeezing and groping. A single finger brushed one of Wyndillyn's nipples through the sheer fabric. Her breath caught. Why... Why was she suddenly so sensitive?

"Did someone like that?" A chuckle rose up directly next to Wyndillyn's ear.

"N-nuh..." She numbly shook her head.

"The girls say your lying~"

Wyndillyn glanced down at her chest and immediately blushed as her erect nipples tented the thin garment. "I... I...!"

"Ssssh, it's okay, precious. You're such a good girl." Guard planted a kiss on Wyndillyn's cheek and she shivered as, when the woman pulled away, she glanced up to see a black mark had been left behind. "Oops." Guard did not sound very apologetic.

Fire burned in Wyndillyn's loins and the burn was spreading across her entire body. Her breath picked up as the rhythm of her heart quicked. She needed... needed to do something about that. She felt incredibly pent-up... far... far more so than made sense for just a few moments of teasing. She needed release, but found that all she could do was keep posing in front of her mirror. Gods, she was fuckable.

"Mmmm," the woman with the fiery hair and umbral lips rested her head on Wyndillyn's shoulder and let her gaze travel downwards. "Oh? What do we have here?" Wyndillyn followed her eyes then froze, her whole body suddenly going tense with sheer embarrassment.

There, in the center of her panties, right where Guard could see it, was a large, dark spot formed by pussy juices.

"You've

already

soaked right through them. Shameful." Wyndillyn whimpered, which prompted Guard to gain a thoughtful look. "Or, perhaps, I'm mistaken. Perhaps its just the design of the fabric."

A thumb suddenly ran down Wyndillyn's thigh and began rubbing up and down the front of her groin. Up and down, up and down, up and-

"

Ah!

" Wyndillyn moaned as the digit rubbed against her clit.

Something about this was wrong, Wyndillyn dully remembered. She needed... needed to... to fight this? But why would she need to fight something that felt so

good

? No, what she needed was

more

.

More!

All this touching was just driving her crazy, she needed to satiate her needs.

Just as she went to thrust her hips further into the touch, though, the hand suddenly pulled away and Wyndillyn felt guard clasp her on the shoulders and abruptly pull her away from the mirror. "All right! Enough playing! We need to get you into your gown!"

Wyndillyn's world

lurched

as the comfortable thrum of the mirror suddenly left her and she began to wonder why she was just so enamored by her own body before more pressing thoughts took up her mind.

She'd

let

Guard touch her! After she said not to! That couldn't stand, she needed to say something!

Before she had an opportunity to, though, another garment was held up for her. "And here we are."

Wyndillyn looked at the fine fabric and her jaw fell slack. The thing was

gorgeous

. It was both elegant, yet tight enough to show off her figure. The sleeves were meant to fall free of her shoulders with the cut being low enough to provide a good showing of her cleavage, and the hem was cut low so that it would only go down to above her knees. Her stockings would be on full display. It was a wonderful attention-grabber. But...

"It doesn't seem very queenly..." Wyndylln said.

Guard furrowed her brow. "I don't see why not. This is the height of fashion for the noble lady stock.

"O-oh," Wyndillyn said hesitantly. That... didn't

seem

right, but she felt like she remembered that being the case. The discordant feeling she'd first experienced on the balcony was beginning to return.

"Allow me," Guard said and once again began to help Wyndillyn dress. She'd had every intention of telling her off and insisting on things being handled clinically, but the moment her honor guard's fingers touched her skin, everything suddenly became dull and far-away again. Just like she was back in front of the mirror.

But something still felt off.

Guard ran a hand over Wyndillyn's stomach as another pet her head soothingly. The lower hand came to a stop at her breasts and began to play with them.

Mmm, need to stop this,

Wyndillyn thought as the pleasure continued to build.

In... in just a second...

The ministrations lasted for several minutes. By the end, Wyndillyn's breasts had somehow ended up hanging freely out the top of her dress with Guard running her thumbs around the areolas before occasionally squeezing and rubbing the nipples through her bra.

"You like this so much, don't you?" she whispered.

"

Mmm

."

A chuckle, and then the hands pulled away, lifting the top of her dress back up over Wyndillyn's tits and adjusting it so that they were nice and snug again. "Let's get your makeup done."

Still fairly dazed, a hand guided Wyndillyn back to her vanity and sat her down in the chair and Guard began to collect her beauty products and go to work. By the end of the process, Princess Wyndillyn had mostly come back to herself and evaluated Guard's work in the mirror—this one without the strange effects, which Wyndillyn found oddly disappointing.

Her makeup was soft, cute, and angelic; her lips were a glossy pink, her eyeshadow done to make her eyes look big and doe-like, a smattering of freckles were painted across her nose and cheeks. She... didn't look like a queen. Shouldn't her makeup be fierce, dark, and mysterious? Something that commanded authority?

Those objections were immediately drowned out as she realized the black lipstick mark was still on her cheek.

"Shouldn't we get rid of that?"

Guard looked at her with an almost offended expression. "But... my princess, it's tradition for an honor guard to bear a mark of devotion on her liege before their coronation."

Wyndillyn narrowed her eyes as that feeling of disjunction

grew

. No, that was definitely wrong. Who would ever make a tradition where a woman in authority was to go about looking like she'd been flouncing about with her servants? On top of that... her name was beginning to feel wrong. It... it was her name, she was certain of that, but it just felt too... formal. Something was definitely not ri-

A hand began to pet and lovingly stroke her hair, drowning out all thoughts. Princess Wyndillyn couldn't help but sigh and lean her head deeper into that touch and begin to squirm. Her scalp suddenly felt so

erogenous

.

"There, there," Guard said soothingly with an edge of predation. "This is your day, pretty girl. Just enjoy it."

Wyndillyn nodded blankly as Guard walked in front of her chair and leaned down to face her. A hand grasped her chin, forcing her to look up. That hand's thumb ran over Wyndillyn's lips, which began to buzz and tingle, sending signals straight down to her pussy.

"Open."

Wyndillyn opened and the thumb slipped into her mouth. Instinctively, Wyndillyn closed her mouth and began to suckle. Guard smiled and leaned in further, driving her knee in between Wyndillyn's legs and began to rub.

Oh

, how that felt good!

The princess hummed her appreciation and began to hump against that leg. Guard snickered and suckled on Wyndillyn's earlobe, creating another flash of pleasure and building need. Her second hand found the girl's breasts and began to once again fondle them.

"Such a dull, pretty thing," Guard whispered. "Delicate, like a flower. You need to be handled in such a manner so you don't break."

Wyndillyn pawed at Guard's breastplate, begging for more touching, more pleasure, without actually vocalizing anything.

"You just love to be teased, don't you? Just edged and loved on and pampered, but never actually given any relief, because it would be too much for you poor, poor thing," Guard pouted. Wyndillyn was too lost in suckling and feeling good to argue. She... she just... "Then I won't let you over that edge. I'll keep you right here, feeling good, so you don't have to worry about

anything

. You just be a sweet little girl for me."

Something about that stoked a fire in Wyndillyn—and not the sexy kind—something about having everything done for her and- and just being teased when she was

so needy

.

Her eyes snapped open and she shoved Guard off of her, promptly shooting up to her own feet. "NO!" Wyndi snapped. Guard stared at her in stupefaction. "No! No! No!" Wyndi found herself stomping for good measure. It probably looked petulant, but she didn't care. "It's

my

coronation!

I'm

becoming queen!

Queen!

I shouldn't be dressed up like some cutesy doll! I need to project authority! And you are

ruining

this for me!" She glared at Guard, pointing an accusatory finger at her.

"I- I'm sorry, my princess." Guard, to her credit, looked properly shocked with wide-eyes and hands held up defensively. "I didn't realize. I'll make new arrangement at on-"

"

I'm not done!

" Wyndi just about shouted. "I feel like I haven't cum in like a

year

and you're

teasing

me?

Really?

I'm not some mewling kitten, I need

release

. I need. To

fuck

!" She fixed Guard with a hungry glare, relishing the rush of energy she felt as the woman almost seemed to cower down. "Am I not your superior?"

"You are, my princess. Without a doubt."

"Then, take this as an order:

You

are going to take me onto that bed," she thumbed over her shoulder, "and fuck me until I see stars.

Got it?

Because I'm

sick

and

tired

of being pent-up!"

Guard continued staring at her in awe for several more moments, before she seemed to remember herself. A smile slowly curled over her lips. "That can certainly be done, my lady."

Before Wyndi could utter another sound, Guard had scooped her up in a bridal carry, brought her over to bed, threw her down and promptly climbed under the hem of her dress.

Wyndi sighed in satisfaction as Guard clawed at her panties to reveal her slick pussy beneath.

Finally, something going right for a change.

The first lap of Guard's sweet tongue was enough to make Wyndi arch her back and let out a guttural moan as she gripped the sheets. The licking quickly fell into a steady, if not a little soft, rhythm upon her clit. Wyndi sighed as she eased into the pleasure, enjoying her new elevation of authority just as much.

"A little more," Wyndi ordered. Instead, she felt another kittenish lick barely graze her sweet-spot. She bit her lip at the denied pleasure. "I said-"

"I heard you," was Guard's reply. Wyndi was about to raise her voice at the curt response, but was stopped short as two fingers entered her pussy, pumping in and out at an agonizingly slow pace.