A Queen and A Jester

Summary: An Elven Queen has a conversation with a seemingly inconsequential human jester.

Authors Note:

Heyyy, my name is Ivy and have been writing my entire life as just a hobby, but have recently grown tired of the corporate world so I wanted to try writing here for a little extra fun! I love fantasy and mind control (of course). Love you guys ;)

Illara Starflower had been Queen of the Elves for over ten human generations, but her beauty remained despite the years. Her skin was still as soft and noble as the untouchable moons which orbited the purple night sky. Her hair, perfectly straight and brown, reached to the small of her back and was held in place by a crown made of Scycot, a magical crown made from a rare tree that granted the beautiful Queen clarity of mind and a healthy body.

This crown was necessary, as the Queen had been fighting the humans in a great war from the first day she sat on the throne after her father’s assassination.

Through it and with it, she had launched one of the greatest military campaigns in the history of Lustaria as she overtook the Lands of Grass, the Lands of Sand, and the Lands of Magma. Now all that was left was the last human-led holdout located in the Lands Below.

It had been a difficult journey and millions of lives had been lost. Her once-bustling throne room, made of tremendous blue crystals that formed the miniature fortress within her castle walls, was now empty except for the lonely Queen and the war map in front of her.

There were times she wished she weren’t so blessed with the knowledge of her ancestors, so that she might live among the commoners who lived in the mud houses surrounding the beautiful castle. She watched them dance and sing despite the stench of death.

She stood up and made her way to the war map. She was dressed in her white robes, embroidered with the designs of the light blue flowers unique to their region which were known for growing from rooftops and giving the impression that the houses of the elves grew hair. She smiled at the thought,a foreign expression to the Queen,but today her spirit felt light enough that a smile felt possible. After all, any moment now her guards would be bringing a human messenger who, she was assured, had come here solely to end the war.

It was written in the stars that she would end the war. Her crown assured her of that.

A creak,the heavy bronze door to the throne room swung open. Through it walked an unkempt, short blonde man wearing only a loincloth and a colorful hat,rather inappropriate, even though he had a fairly nice body for a human.

“Who are you?” Illara Starflower asked. “Where are my guards?”

“Hi,I,yes, your guards seem to have gotten a bit distracted by the music playing downstairs.” He had a nervous nature to him,tapping his feet, shifting from side to side, messing with his own hair,but overshadowing the nervousness was an aura of joy. A dangerous energy to carry around for a negotiator,she must be careful. “I suppose we all lose ourselves to the music from time to time.” He laughed.

“I suppose so,” she responded, staring him up and down. He did the same.

She made her way over to him to shake his hand, as is human tradition, but when she shook it she was surprised to find that it was oddly wet. She might have been worried if she hadn’t long since grown immune to all forms of poisons or venoms. “Why is your hand wet?” she asked.

“Why is your hand dry?” he responded.

The response caught her so off guard that she let out what could only be described as a giggle. She had never giggled before and didn’t like it one bit. Illara forced a stern expression and sauntered to her throne. “State your name and position, human.”

He walked closer and bent a knee. “My name is Elliot Thornbound.”

Thornbound, the Queen thought to herself. Where have I heard that name before?

“And I am King Scepter’s Royal Jester.”

“A jester? The king of the humans sent a jester to sign the agreements to your surrender that will put an end to the greatest war in Lustaria’s history?” She scoffed, certain that she was mishearing him.

“Well, not exactly,” responded the jester. “The King sent me over so that you would sign the agreements to your surrender.”

Now she was laughing. “Me? After we have taken over most of the human strongholds? I see why he sent a jester. This was a wonderful joke.” Once her laugh died, she signaled and, through her magic, closed the door. “If my guards were here I would have had them kill you, but alas I will do it myself.” If she were paying attention, she might have noticed that each laugh made the jester’s joyful aura grow.

She readied an attack, but the jester raised his hands. “Wait! Your Highness! We can’t battle in these conditions.”

“Why not?”

“For I am but a jester and you are a powerful and infallible Queen.”

“Yes.”

“So, is it not the code of the Elves to grant fair combat,so since you get to use your magic I should get to wield my jokes and comedy?”

The Queen considered this. “No.”

In that instant the jester began to feel the greatest pain of his life as his blood cells turned to ice. He had about five seconds before death. “Queen! Wait.”

She stopped the process, leaving his legs half frozen. She didn’t tend to listen to those who begged for their lives, but there was something about Elliot Thornbound which seemed worth listening to.

“I was given express permission by the King to,” He screamed out in pain, and his joyful aura diminished. “,surrender the war, so if you were to best me in combat I could sign the papers to end this.”

“What’s stopping me from making you sign the papers in exchange for your life?”

He smirked. “I am a jester, but I am not a fool. I swear on my father’s name, Duke Thornbound, that if I were to lose in fair combat then I shall surrender on behalf of the Human Kingdom.”

His gaze grew more sinister. “However, should I win, you will surrender on behalf of the Elven population.”

An offer from a jester who she could destroy with a snap of her fingers. She should accept instantly, and yet her crown pulsed against her forehead and her hairs stood on end. Were it not for the crazed expression of the stupid jester she might have taken those warnings more seriously, but instead she said, “You have yourself a deal, jester.” She stood up and removed her wand from beside her robe. She hardly needed it to cast, but it made her spells more potent and focused. With this wand, she was undoubtedly the most powerful mortal in the Lands. “Draw your joke book or whatever it may be so combat may be fair.” She unfroze his legs in the sake of fairness.

“I would love to, Your Highness, but may I suggest that this combat is still not fair.”

“Not fair?”

“Yes, Your Highness. I do not have a weapon and I have never used magic before in my life, so it feels like the use of magic gives you a sort of advantage.”

She scoffed. Every year since she could speak she had studied magic, and now all of that hard work was being used against her. Humans and their inferior lifespans. “Fine. No magic.” Her last magical act was to summon a sword into her hand, the legendary Orlios. It shone in the moonlight. “You shall die by the blade of my people.”

“But I have no sword,” responded the jester, pointing at his loincloth and hat. “Wouldn’t fit.”

She laughed again. “Very well, no weapons.” She threw the sword to the side and it clattered to the ground. “Oops. Forgot that sword is super important.” She put her hand up to her mouth.

“It sounds important,” he said sarcastically. She giggled again. This jester was rather disarmingly charming in a way that made her forget the sword on the ground. Nothing really mattered that much anyway.

“Very well,hand to hand then?” She asked, getting into a Maen-Baugluth stance, one leg forward and her arms stretching in opposite directions.

“Now we’re talking!” The jester jumped around like a boxer. His loincloth did little to hide the bouncing motion of his member underneath as it hinted at its rather large size.

They charged at each other before he raised his hand. “Wait!”

“What is it now!?” She was still smiling, but she was starting to get exasperated by all of the pauses.

“Your clothes and your crown.” He pointed up and down, checking her out.

“What about them?” she said, looking down at herself. Was she so out of practice that the most basic details of fair combat were being taught to her by a jester?

“Are they magical?”

“Of course they are.”

“Your Highness, I wear no magical clothes. My hat is of sheep’s wool and my loincloth is ripped fabric from a peasant’s shirt.” He turned around to show her that it was only a thin sliver of fabric between his butt cheeks. “There wasn’t even enough to cover the whole behind.”

She cackled. This King had a wonderful jester in his party. Had he not been human, she might have recruited him to liven up her dreary yet beautiful throne room. “Very well. I shall change into non-magical garments in the interest of fairness.” She turned to enter her chambers, but he let out a little cough. “What is it this time?”

“M’lady,even the slightest bit of cloth could act as armor in the right circumstances. Perhaps the only way to be truly fair is if you wear as much fabric as I?” He continued his odd boxing warm-ups.

“Surprisingly wise for a jester.” She had heard tell of soldiers whose lives were saved by a letter from a loved one in their breast pocket. He was right,every piece of fabric mattered. She slowly removed her robe over her head, revealing her wonderful body, sculpted by the gods with a tight toned belly, perky breasts that were held by a cloth bra, and a pair of thong panties which left her muscular, well-shaped ass entirely exposed. “There, now we are even.”

The jester took off his hat. “Wouldn’t want to keep that on. Might fall off and then I would slip!” He mimed the slipping motion and fell onto his bare butt theatrically.

The Queen slapped her knee, causing her breasts to shake inside their bra. “Oh, very well,” she said as she removed the helm which had kept her mind impenetrable for so many years.

“Finally!”

“No!”

“What!?”

He pointed at his chest. “I do not wear a bra, Your Highness.” Tired of all of this and ready to fight, Illara tore her bra off, revealing her royal tits in all of their glory to another pair of mortal eyes for the first time in a thousand years.

“Thank you, Gods,” the jester whispered.

“What was that?” the topless Queen in her thong asked.

“Nothing. I was just clearing my throat.” They both charged at each other, and though the jester wasn’t helpless, the Queen was much more skilled and powerful. It took her only seconds to bring him into submission, squeezing his neck between her thighs. The smell of her sex was aphrodisiac enough that the jester, whose hands were firmly around her ass, almost welcomed death as his oxygen was replaced by her scent. “Time out,” he said through ragged breath but with a funny high-pitched voice.

To her own dismay she giggled and rolled off of him, laying sideways on her thigh with her hand supporting her head. Her breasts leaned alongside her, creating a perfect silhouette.

“You win round one.”

“There are rounds now?” the Queen asked suspiciously.

“Yes. And you should know that, Queen, but we are expunging the first round from the record book as that first round was not fair either.”

Illara was flabbergasted. “But I used no magic, and we are wearing equal clothes.”

“Yes, but this isn’t physical,” said the jester. “It’s mental. You are thousands of years old and are blessed with the knowledge of your ancestors. I am but a jester. The only way to achieve equality is if you were to be less intelligent.”

“Aye,” agreed the Queen, “but even without my helm there is no one in the Lands with magic powerful enough to affect my mind without years of rituals and preparation.”

“No one except you, Your Highness.”

“So this use of my magic…”

“Is perfectly fine,” said the jester as he stood up, leaving his large crotch directly in the face of the leaning Queen. “In the interest of fairness. It’s the same reason I shrink my cock in front of Elven men.”

Despite her better judgement, the Queen figured that if a temporary intelligence-reduction spell would finally allow her to wrap up this war, then so be it. “Kanreduc teogencia!” Illara Starflower said as she clapped her hands, and simultaneously a pair of ethereal blue hands appeared above her head and clapped. Her breasts shook as her eyes blinked multiple times.

When she stopped blinking, her smart and determined vision was gone.

“Hey Queen,” said the jester. “Check this out.” He let out a huge burp and the Queen laughed a vapid laugh. “Perfect. Now that we are equals, shall we begin?”

Illara blinked, a slow, dopey smile spreading across her face. The brilliant military strategist who had conquered three continents now struggled to parse the sentence. The spell had stripped away centuries of martial discipline, ancestor-guided logic, and tactical genius. “Yes. Let’s begin!”

“Let’s go over the ground rules again.”

The Queen nodded her head vigorously. “Okay!” She knew she had been smart and worried about the war and stuff, but she had no idea it felt so good to not be that. It felt better to bask in the jester’s joy and leave the guilt, pain, and anguish in the past. All that she really knew now was that she needed to win and then she could be smart again.

“Obviously we don’t want to hurt each other, right?”

“We don’t?” Illara bit her finger. “I thought that was kind of the point,” she giggled.

“Maybe for soldiers, but you are a dignified Queen!”

“I sure am!” she said as she sucked her finger and bounced on her toes, causing her breasts and butt to jiggle along with her. “Whoa!” she said, looking down. “My titties are bouncy.”

The jester ignored the comment for now. “And I am a royal jester, so we should not seek to harm each other. Instead we shall battle in the way all beings are equal. After all, it is a biological fact that every species in the Lands must reproduce to live on, and I happen to have the knowledge that both elves and humans can orgasm at similar rates, so perhaps the best test would be one in which we see who could survive the torturous pleasure of the other the longest.”

“Umm, can you make it a little easier for me to understand? I’m not so smart anymore.”

“We pleasure each other.” He removed his loincloth and exposed his cock and bush. “Last one to cum wins.”

“Oh, I remember I can’t have more clothes than you!” The Queen tilted onto her back and lifted her legs in the air to remove her panties. She felt herself,she was very wet and he was quite hard. The jester was right. They could be equals here. “Deal. Now come impale me, human!”

“Impale? Let me teach you something, dumb Queen.” He positioned himself on top of her. She was taller, so his head was parallel to her tits, which he took a quick lick of. “The human word for impale is ‘fuck,’ so speak again and say what you want!”

“Fuck me! Please, human!” As he entered her, she felt her folds open entirely to receive him as his cock filled her completely. She had never had sex before, so the sensation was completely alien. She lost track of her senses as he grabbed her hips and continuously pounded into her.

With each thrust, his joyful aura grew. And she began to smile wider and wider. It was so easy, around this jester, to let herself forget her responsibilities and just let herself be fucked. She scratched at his back and begged for “More! Please, human, fill me.”

“Elliot…” she whined, her hips involuntarily rising to meet his pace, completely consumed by the desperate need for relief. The sheer intensity of her first experience was driving her to the absolute brink. “I’m going to… I’m going to lose! It feels too good, I can’t hold it, please!”

He abruptly slowed his rhythm, bringing his deep, powerful thrusts to an agonizingly deliberate crawl, keeping himself seated deep inside her while withholding the frantic motion she so desperately craved.

“Oh no, you don’t,” Elliot chuckled, his hands gripping her thighs firmly to hold her still. “A surrender in battle must be absolute. You don’t get to finish until I say so.”

Illara let out a whimpering moan, her eyes glossy with tears of pure frustration as her body squirmed beneath his overwhelming control. The sensation of being held right on the edge of climax was an agonizing delight, shattering whatever tiny remnants of her former resolve remained.

“Please! Please, Elliot!” she begged, her voice high and breathless, all royal dignity abandoned as she arched her back toward him. “Let me! Just a little faster, please, let me finish! I’ll do anything, please!”

Elliot smirked down at her and summoned a parchment treaty and an ink-dipped feather quill, holding them directly above her chest where she could see them through her hazy vision.

“You want to finish so badly?” Elliot asked, his voice dripping with playful authority. “There’s only one way. Sign the treaty. Surrender your kingdom to the human realm, and I’ll give you exactly what you’re begging for.”

He turned her around. “But first let me introduce you to another human creation, specifically used to fuck in the most demeaning way possible. We call it doggy-style.” He grasped her firm ass and brought her backwards. He teased her entrance as she shook her royal behind for him, and he entered her again.

“Yes! I love doggy.” She felt him even deeper than before. She had not known pleasure of this kind was possible outside of magic.

He stopped suddenly. “Will you sign the forms for me, Queen?”

“Uhhh!” she moaned. “If I do, will you please fuck me more in doggy?”

“As a humble jester, your wish is my command, Your Highness.”

“Yes! Yes, give it to me!” Illara gasped out frantically. She didn’t care about the Lands of Grass, the Lands of Sand, or the Lands Below. Millions of lives and ten generations of war vanished into irrelevance compared to the desperate need racing through her veins.

She snatched the quill, which resembled a fake cock. She giggled again. With enthusiastic desperation, barely waiting for him to place the parchment in front of her, she hastily scribbled her royal signature across the bottom of the surrender agreement.

“There! I signed it! I surrendered!” she cried out, tossing the quill aside and lowering her face into the signed contract while elevating her ass into his crotch, her eyes wide with frantic desire. “Now please, Elliot, make me cum!”

Elliot grinned, dropping the signed document onto the floor. “As you wish!”

He drove back into her with sudden, fierce intensity, and with a shattered, euphoric scream, Illara surrendered entirely to the overwhelming waves of pleasure.

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