Get lost in the fray

The largest, most immutable taboo, beyond any concept of race, nation, family, faith, or the like, is that of class. Pursuing outside one's station of nothing short of heresy, in all corners of world, and met with rage, jealousy, shame, expulsion, and even worse. Even here, where worldly traditions are frequently and proudly defied on a daily base, pursuing any form of relationship with a commoner beyond the physical is a thought that you would never seriously consider; that you would even have physical relations with a common man is a far enough deviation in most other kingdoms.

Which makes moments such as this all the more decadent, even if it's not readily apparent. The unmistakable tole of the clocktower rang for all to hear, signaling the top of the tenth hour of the evening. By the second tole, the servants in the room, men and women both, had begun undressing. Some did so as quickly as possible, but many slowly stripped their attire off, making heavy eyes at the noble guests as they did so. Many of the men had taken interest early, freeing their erections or touching the soft skin of the servants as they walked past. The women, while more physically reserved, were no less interested in spectacle. It was in fact a woman, a fellow Queen from the northern kingdom of Dzivia, that turned things over from being a spectacle, into an event. Spotting a particularly attractive penis, long, hard, and seemingly full of vitality, attached to a lean young man from the stables, she nearly leapt out of her seat to claim him as her own. On her knees before him, she started sucking the head of the dick while tantalizing him, looking straight up into his eyes, struggling in vain to exit her dress at the same time.

There was a heady laughter at the sight, but celebratory, rather than mocking. False pretenses of ignorance and innocence could be done away with. Seeing the queen's struggles, many opted to shed their own ornate clothing before descending further. Still others removed only so as much as was needed to in the moment. A veritable pile of clothing amassed in the center with no concern of what may belong to whom. The clothes now being removed, it was largely impossible to tell on sight who were the nobles, and who were the commoners. In this room, at this time, everyone was equal. No man greater than a woman, no queen greater than a pauper.

Heavy moans filled the hall as you moved yourself from your throne to join the events. Heavy kissing, licking, and sucking was the common sight. An especially busty woman was having her breasts suckled by two men, while one of them fingered her wet folds. The greedy queen from earlier, having given up on her dress for now, had found a second cock to her liking, and would switch between which one she would suck on and which one she would stroke. You take in all of the sights, sounds, and even smells as you slowly remove your own dress and attire. You want nothing more than be right in the thick of this, but a little self denial would make this all the more enjoyable. Your dress slinked off of you near the pile with the rest, and you removed the elbow length gloves with a painstakingly slow pace for anyone who was looking.

It was apparently too slow for one of the men, who had eyed you immediately and had lost his patience. Still with one glove on, you are **** to your knees. Your mouth opens on reflex, and quickly finds the rock hard cock of a stranger inside. You plant yourself as you let him furiously uses your mouth as a cock-sleeve. Though you prefer the long marathon over the short sprint, he at least has it where it counts, and he seems to understand the point here. Even the Queen, in her own land, is fair to fuck and use tonight. Noone would go so far as to do something without consent, but you think this man may push his luck. Either not knowing or not caring about his own limit, he pulls out of your mouth, and frantically jerks himself to the point of eruption. Welcomingly, you stick your tongue out as she shoots his load of cum, little of it reaching your tongue or even near your face, given the rage to which he was jerking off with. His cock still fully erect, thanks to the benefits of the banquet, the stranger went off to terrorize someone else.

Though you didn't care much for that exchange, your next encounter proved to be far more rewarding "That was exhausting to look at" you hear a friendly voice say. Oragon, a young man much your same age, whom you have grown up knowing as a friend. One of many who would seek your body, and your hand. "Perhaps you would want to sit down and regain yourself." He extends his hand gracefully, which you readily accept as you get back on your feet. "Thank you so much. That would actually be lovely, actually." You understand what he is implying, which still sounds like a great alternative to what you just endured.

Oragon finds an unused chair and takes a seat in it, holding his cock erect and perfectly vertical for you. You spit in your hand gently stroke it for lubrication, and slowly lower yourself on it, moaning deeply as your ass stretches around it. Oragon's eager hands reach your hips, guiding you up and down on his cock. He wants to take the slow, sensuous route, much as you do, and you are happy to oblige. From this position, you get a better view as to what everyone else is doing. To say that everyone is enjoying themselves is an understatement. A curmudgeonly Duke has a young servant pinned to the table as he fucks her from behind, slapping her ass as he watches his wife get plowed from behind on the other side by a handsome stud, everyone aware of what the other was doing, and not caring. That Queen from earlier seems to have bitten off more than she could chew; her dress now finally completely off, every hole she had was being ravaged the entire team of stable workers.

There was no warning before Oragon had cum in your ass, and you had in fact completely lost focus of how long you had been fucking him for. You slowly lift up, trying to keep his hot load inside. You give him a sloppy kiss as you move on and enjoy the rest of the party. The energy doesn't die down; it's practically dawn by the time most everyone has exhausted themselves and retired to their rooms. You achingly head back to your own quarters, **** need of another bath, one you will take after you wake up.

A fleeting thought, just before you drift away into slumber, is that you will never again be known, as a Princess...