Screwing will have to wait

Chantelle smiles sadly at Luke. “I really wish I had more time. I really think I could have had fun with you.” She runs her hand thoughtfully over his hard cock.

“What’s your hurry, Doll? The prince won’t be back for hours. We have plenty of time for fun,” replies Luke, reaching for her breast.

“I’d really love to,” she responds, leaning down and planting a kiss on the soldier’s lips. “You may not be very smart, and your manners are repulsive, but you do have a delightful penis. I could just ride it all day.” She continues to stroke Luke’s cock as she speaks. Her experience with mortal men has taught her that she could say just about anything to one of them, and he would hear none of it if his dick was hard.

“Unfortunately, I am under a bit of a time crunch,” she continued, slowly moving her hand from his crotch, up his stomach, over his chest, and to his neck.

“C’mon, Babe,” said Luke, grasping her breast and squeezing it roughly. “Like I said, we got plenty of —“

His words are interrupted by the loud, sharp crack of his neck bones as Chantelle gives a quick, practiced twist of her hand. His look of surprise remains frozen on his face. Unfortunately, Chantelle notes, his erection does not likewise remain, and it has already retreated to a flaccid state.

“If only their penises could function independently, life would be so much richer,” Chantelle said to herself as she took one more close look at Luke’s features. Then, just as before, her own features began to change, fluidly morphing into a replica of the lifeless body on the bed.

Once satisfied with her work, Chantelle dressed herself with Luke’s uniform. Next, she carried his corpse to a closet and carefully stuffed it inside. After one last check in the mirror, she opened the door and stepped into the hallway.

Ivan is leaning against a wall, evidently bored. He stands up, surprised, as Chantelle exits the room.

“So soon?” he asks. “I expected to be waiting another half hour or so.”

Chantelle considers how Luke probably would respond. With a perfect representation of his voice, she says, “She was too wasted to be much of a screw. She just laid on her back and said, ‘Please cover me up when you are done.’”

Ivan chuckles uncomfortably and looks toward the door. “So we’re just going to leave her there?”

“Why not? That’s where the prince left her. Better she be there than wandering around the palace naked. Besides, we have more important things to do.”

“Like what?”

“Like planning your stag party, of course!” Chantelle gives a playful punch on Ivan’s shoulder in what she hoped was a typical masculine way of showing friendly affection. “You didn’t think you could get married without having an official Royal Guard stag, did you? It’s an old, old tradition!”

That much was true. Chantelle heard about these stag parties long before she seduced Price Stewart. When a member of the Royal Guard got engaged, all of the members of the Guard turned out for a night of wild celebration.

When Chantelle learned that Luke had a fiancée, she realized a stag party would provide the perfect opportunity to realize her mission. All of the guards, and possibly even a royal family member or two, would all be together. There would never be a better opportunity.

“I don’t know,” said Ivan. “Marianne doesn’t like the idea of those kinds of celebrations.”

“What are you talking about?” says Chantelle. “You can’t buck hundreds of years of tradition! Besides, who says you’re going to do anything your sweetheart would disapprove of? You’re just allowing your comerades a chance to celebrate with you!”

“I don’t know...” Ivan says again.

“Don’t worry,” says Chantelle. “Now come on. We can talk about it after we have completed our rounds.”