Chapter Nine

Princess Erulia Gadarel, third scion of the noble house Gadarel of the Mithril Spires was scrambling desperately about on her hands and knees under the four poster bed, hoping to discover a stray vial of the purple fertility potion when there was a rapping at her apartment door.

“I told you to go away!” She yelped, feeling embarrassed of her present ignoble position.

The door was swung open with a quiet creak and there was the sharp click-clack of heels on stone entering the room.

“I am unaccustomed to taking commands within my own palace, child.” A voice like deep velvet gently replied. “Come out from there, you will find naught but dust bunnies hiding under your bed.”

Erulia nearly cracked her head on the frame when she recognized the Queen’s voice. Scurrying back on all fours she stood, turned and made to curtsy only to remember she had no skirts to fan.

The naked Princess covered her big new breasts with an arm and her bare elfhood with her hand as she bowed instead.

“Y–your Majesty!” She stammered, blushing crimson all the way up to the tips of her pointed ears. “Many apologies, you have caught me in a moment of distress.”

“More like undress, Princess.” Queen Annarosa smiled and for once there was no haughty menace in the expression, only motherly concern and empathy. “There is no need to stand on formality, I am merely here to check on you after word reached me about your tiff with your handmaiden this morning.”

She was? How much had she been told?

Erulia cocked a manicured brow in suspicion at the beguiling monarch. She was enchantingly attired like the dark sorceress she was rumored to be in an strapless obsidian gown that conformed to her ripe matronly figure like a silken sheath. It was floor-length and lacy, and appeared to cover most of her body at first glance. But there were areas where the silk parted to reveal the smooth olive skin hidden beneath.

Long slits ran up both sides, high enough to expose the lace of her stockings and the bodice framed her enormous plump breasts wonderfully with a stretched-wide keyhole that displayed the deep valley of her cleavage. As a whole, the dress hugged her thick hourglass figure from toes to tits, covering almost everything but hiding very little.

Even her hints of make-up and tumbling ebony tresses were stylishly touched up and arranged, giving the royal matron a carefully constructed air of ageless impeccability. From the knife-heeled onyx boots on her feet to the touches of dusky rouge on her sharp cheekbones and blood red lipstick on her plush lips.

The stunning overall effect only made Erulia feel worse about the unruly state of déshabiller she had been caught in. She whipped the stained and wrinkled sheet of the bed in an attempt to cover her humiliation. The nectar-soaked satin stuck wetly to her expanded tits and wafted the stink of sex around her, hardening her raspberry nipples to poke accusingly through the glossy fabric.

“P–please, your Majesty. Grant me a few minutes to cloth and compose myself, then I will happily attend–”

“Nonsense, child.” The Queen pooh-poohed away her stuttered protestations with a wave of her hand and took a seat on the edge of the bed, crossing one long shapely leg over the over and patting the mattress beside her invitingly. “It is just us girls here now, there is nobody to overhear us. I wish for you to forget our stations and all the courtly rubbish that comes with them, simply talk with me, woman to woman. Tell me what ails you, Daughter.”

Daughter?!

Her tone was all understanding. Sympathetic. The regal iciness gone to be replaced by a radiant maternal warmth Erulia hadn’t known she craved until that very moment. Tears welled in her crystalline eyes as she rushed to sit at the gorgeous Queens side and leaned into a proffered shoulder.

“I tried, Highness, I really tried,” She sobbed, clutching at the older woman’s arm before it wrapped comfortingly around her slim waist in a wordless sign of support. “I drank pot after pot of the tea, and as much of the potion as I could but–”

“Shush… I know you did, Princess.” Her Majesty crooned, pressing a silencing finger to Erulia’s lips and the high elf resisted the sudden urge to slide her babbling mouth over the dainty digit to suck upon it. “You have impressed me greatly with your comportion and refinement despite your initial misgivings and natural disadvantages.”

“Disadvantages? Wha–urk!”

Erulia’s confused response was cut off by the Queen’s abruptly inserted finger pressing down on her moist tongue which instinctively lashed around the intrusive appendage.

“Do not misunderstand, Dear. I do not speak ill of your noble heritage or disparage the many fine qualities of the high-born elves of the Mithril Spires. I mean only to say that the innate magical resistance that your kin are so proud of holds your people back in ways you cannot properly comprehend.”

“Holdth uth back?” She slurred curiously, eagerly slurping and bobbing her puckered face on the bewitching monarch’s index finger.

Something about the motion felt so good. So… right. As though this small gesture of submissive acquiescence to her glorious majesty would lead to a more fulfilling and carnally gratifying relationship in the near, if cloudy, tomorrow.

“High elves fear mortal sorcery even as they practice their own school of powerful ancient magic.” Queen Annarosa cinched in her hold on Erulia’s tiny waist, dragging her closer into her soft curvaceous side. “They forbid the wielding those same powers upon the physical form as though doing so were blasphemy but bear witness my beauty and recognize the boundless benefits!”

Erulia was looking. Her Majesty was so radiantly exquisite that she couldn’t tear her watering eyes away from the dazzling lady, even as she mutely lapped at her manicured forefinger.

“This is what you are being denied, Daughter.” She continued, withdrawing her finger and playfully bopping the smitten Princess on the nose with it. “My magic alone cannot refine your high elven body to accept my perfect Seberin’s seed. It resists my flesh sculpting sorcery in a way your wood elf companion’s could not. She was looking much improved, if a little flustered, when my servants found her wandering the corridors this morning.”

Erulia felt terrible about how she reacted to Idril’s fecund transformation and lowered her flushed face in shame. “Is she alright? I didn’t mean to lose my temper with her. I was…”

Her words trailed off as the Queen pulled her pliant head into her shoulder and began to stroke her long starlight hair in soothing strokes.

“Envious? I understand, truly I do. My brilliant son is a much admired Man, by none more so than me; his loving mother.” She cooed, summoned a gust of wind with an idle gesture that blew the makeshift coverings off all the portraits crowding the apartment. Suddenly many heart-melting pairs of identical amber eyes were staring into the trembling elven Princess again. “Say it. Tell me that he is the most handsome man to ever draw breath.”

“He is the most handsome–” Erulia began to agree breathlessly before the Queen pushed onwards with increasing fervor.

“Admit that he is powerful beyond all mortal ken.” She husked into a pointed ear before laying a gentle kiss upon the sensitive tip.

“He is powerful beyond all mortal ken…”

“Confess to yourself that he is the perfect paragon of virile masculinity.”

Heavens but he was, every inch of each vision of the hunky prince was a shining dedication to the temple of Manhood and Seberin was its transcendent avatar!

A delicate hand was guiding Erulia’s twitching fingers back between her slim thighs again where her dewy flower pulsed with renewed arousal.

“He is the perfect paragon of virile masculinity!” She panted, gratefully probing her slick folds as the Queen rubbed her arching back in comforting circles.

“Tell me, Daughter, do you yearn to carry his heirs and swell large with his babies?”

By all the stars in the night sky, Erulia wanted nothing more in that moment. Her pristine pussy was on fire for Him and she would have relinquished her title, her birthright and all her worldly belongings just to feel that massive mighty member unleashing its life-giving royal seed inside her young fertile womb.

“I want it, I really do! I need to be the vessel that bears the fruit of his majestic loins and carries his illustrious lineage into the bright future of his glorious reign–may it last a thousand years!”

She was cumming again–another daisy chain of tantalizing micro-orgasms, the tiniest taste of the cunt-splitting ecstasy her betrothed would undoubtedly deliver–wrapped up in her soon to be mother-in-law’s warm embrace and staring with wide crystalline eyes at a picture of perfect Prince Seberin.

He was standing tall and stalwart, naked and ferociously erect before his golden throne with a ranks upon ranks of kowtowing women in resplendent noble dress pressing their pretty foreheads to the marble floors in an act of utter subservience to his supreme superiority.

“Good girl, good girl.” Queen Annarosa purred, brushing the top of Erulia’s dizzy skull with her hot, murmuring lips. “I want that for you too. All you have to do is open yourself to me. Allow my sorcerous gifts entry to you and I can grant you everything your innocent elvish heart desires.”

“H–How?”

The single word was choked out, throttled by her obdurate arousal as another short gush of lurid wetness squirted from around thrusting fingers to soak the bedding under her pale pert backside.

“Simply surrender yourself entirely to him. Cease struggling against the inevitable and bare your soul to his all-encompassing magnanimity.” The raven-haired monarch crooned, guiding Erulia to her staggering feet as she continued to helplessly trim herself senseless and was charitably led towards the standing armoire. It opened with a magical flourish. “And wear this. Much power and resources have been expended to create this masterpiece for your special day.”

The high-born Princess blinked dazedly at the unveiled outfit. There was only the one today, where before there had been many. Pure bridal white. Snowy and dripping with diamonds. Emanating a crushing magic **** that rubbed her innate arcane resistance raw like coarsest sandpaper.

…and Erulia welcomed it as she stared upon the gorgeous glimmering gown.

“My special day?” She asked with a hopeful smile.

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