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Her Royal Highness, Queen of The Astasia, Alteia The Third, was not having a good day.

“No, tell Prince Philon that if he will not honor our trade agreement, we will renegotiate it with my sword to his throat. Now, I will retire to my chambers, goodnight.”

Alteia shut the door on her clamoring ministers. Bureaucrats are crucial to any bureaucracy, but sometimes they could be insufferably needy.

Alteia walked briskly through the rooms that made up her personal chambers. She was intent on getting to the inner sanctum as soon as feasible, where the weight of today’s difficulties could finally be lifted.

Alteia passed half a dozen doors and a dozen armed men of the Royal Honor Guard before she arrived at her goal, the Royal Bed Chamber. Alteia let out a sigh of release upon seeing the bed, her most private, safest refuge … and the boy who worshipped her there.

“A long day? Your Highness, I can see it on your face.”

“You have no idea, Rheon.” Alteia turned and locked the doors. Such a gesture provided little additional security, but the queen relished in the sound of the bolt sliding home.

“I think I am in need of your services tonight.”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” the mostly unclothed boy whom Alteia called her lover replied, “that is why I am here.”

Delicately, Rheon unlaced her gown. Strap by strap, Alteia felt the pressure around her chest release.

“And how did the trade negotiations with Boratath go?”

“Horribly, of course.” The Kingdom of Boratath, Astasia’s northern neighbor, had instituted a series of increasingly high tariffs against Alteia’s merchants. Such was a path to war.

As the queen spoke, Rheon removed her gown, freeing Her Royal highness from her cloth prison. Her Royal undergarments soon followed.

“I may need to do something about that pesky prince.”

“Perhaps, but not tonight,” Rheon said as he removed the queen’s panties, leaving her fully nude in her bedroom. “Shall we?”

“Of course.”

The queen took her servant’s hand and let her naked body be led to her bed. Alteia turned and fell onto the bed on her back.

Her hand was on her crotch before she hit the mattress.

“One of those nights, Your Majesty?”

“You have no idea, Rheon.”

According to the church, masturbation was a sin. Altria’s governesses had told her, on no uncertain terms, that to take pleasure in one’s own hand was unladylike. But Alteia, as queen of the realm, was the de facto head of the church. Moreover, she is the literal queen. If she wanted to touch herself, then God could enjoy the show, and the other ladies were missing out.

Rheon draped his body over hers, letting his weight comfort her like a blanket. That vexing little mouth of his quickly went to work on her breasts.

Alteia moaned into the night in a very elegant, very lady-like fashion. To be pleased by a man was one of woman’s highest delights, and Alteia was determined to have her distribute.

Rheon was masterful, teasing one breast, then the other, coaxing out feeling, then sensation, then repeating the same on the other side to keep her entire chest as stimulated as feasible.

Alteia’s fingers began to fumble as heat and dampness permeated her loins. She struggled to focus under the onslaught over her breasts.

Just when she was about to beg for relief, she felt a presence near her pussy, and a finger invade her snatch.

“Ooh, thirsty today, aren’t we Your Highness?”

“Rheon. Please.”

Her voice sounded more needy than she had intended, but the message was clear.

“Of course.”

Rheon slunk down, making sure to caress the Queen’s every curve on his journey to the space between her legs.

Rheon mounted the queen’s thighs on his shoulders, placing his head just above her divine apex. He kissed her inner thighs, slowly working his way down to her inner folds. He paused, just long enough to catch the queen’s gaze.

Then he tunge-fucked her lower lips in a gorgeous French kiss.

Alteia cooed. She moaned. She groaned like a cart overburdened. Rheon sent her mind into a fantasy land of pleasure. She wondered of all the kingdoms she would conquer, all the kings who would beg to kiss her ass, all the princes who would kneel before her and swear their fealty just like this. Alteia would take their princesses as her trophies, dress them up in chains, and parade them around for fun. Her every wondered was pleasing.

She stayed like that for a long time, daydreaming under the warm glow of cunnilingus. Eventually, the sharp pleasure of new sex dulled into a longing ache for relief.

See part 2

NSFW: yes

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