Have Horace take her for a night ride

Just as Adella thought that her irrational lust had been satiated, seeing Horace’s naked form rekindled the animal drive deep inside of her. With a deep breath she inhaled the intoxicating scent of their passionate round of mind-blowing sex. In her mind, she can see herself catapulting across the room to throw herself on Horace and once again ride his massive shaft relentlessly until she is truly satiated.

Much to her horror, her imagination does not seem content with using the young man’s body simply for her own sexual pleasure. She closes her eyes and sees herself simultaneously writhing with a powerful orgasm, making the most out of the stableboy’s erupting cock, and also ripping out his throat with her hands, which have terrifyingly transformed into those of a wolf.

With an audible gasp she shakes herself and opens her eyes, driving the vision from her mind. “There’s something about being pent up in this room, smelling these erotic scents, that is affecting my mind,” she tells herself.

Horace appears not to have noticed Adella’s distress. His eyes are not exactly focused on her face. His simpleton expression is transfixed on his guest’s breasts, watching with mesmerized attention as her nipples rapidly harden and protrude. The princess can see where his eyes are directed, and the mere knowledge that her body has that kind of power over a man — even one as moronic as this — seems to add fuel to the growing fire in her loins. She quickly makes up her mind about what she needs to do.

“Horace, would you take me for a ride?”

The young man’s eyes finally look up at her face. “Another ride?”

Although she maintains eye contact with him, she cannot help but notice at the extreme edge of her vision the abrupt movement of his huge cock as it jumps up in response to her words. She realizes he is incapable of thinking of anything other than sex at the moment and has attached the wrong meaning to her request.

Quickly, before her waning self-control picks up on this opportunity, she explains herself. “Let’s go out on horseback. It is a beautiful night, and I am in need of fresh air. I do not wish to disturb any of my attendants, but it would not be proper for me to be out alone. Will you accompany me?”

Horace readily agrees. Anything for a chance to prolong this fortuitous contact with the Princess Royal. He retrieves his clothes, only to discover that his shirt is missing all of its buttons due to Adella’s efficient-but-destructive method of undressing him. He retrieves another shirt to use. As he does so, Adella realizes that her nightgown is hardly appropriate for a night of horseback riding, and she asks if she can borrow something from Horace.

As it turns out, Horace has a few items of women’s clothing — not that he is a cross-dresser, but more as souvenirs of various conquests or because they were left behind when some recently-screwed lass, in her haste to leave undetected, carelessly overlooked something.

Adella examines herself in the mirror. Her attire is a far cry from her usual expensive royal clothing. Her blouse is one or two sizes too large, and if she leans forward, it will be evident to any person standing in front of her that she is not wearing a bra. Although Horace had quite a collection of female undergarments, they all seemed to be rather stiff from dried bodily secretions, so Adella chose to forego bra or panties. Given the choice between two chambermaid skirts, she opted for one that was a little too big for her, wisely concluding that the combined effect of being on a horse and going without panties would likely be rather chilly on her nether regions.

She decided that she dare not spend any more time in this enclosed space with Horace. Already she feels she is fighting a losing battle with the growing arousal within her. After a final adjustment to her attire, she grabs a scarf and wraps it loosely around her neck, and nods to Horace, and they leave his quarters.

The fragrance of the stables does much to clear her mind of her nearly-overpowering and troubling compulsive thoughts. She allows Horace to saddle a horse for her. When he grabs a second saddle to prepare a second one, a thought hits her. “I’m really not supposed to be out and about after what happened to me. There may even be instructions with the guards that I am not to leave the palace. It will be easier to leave if we are on one horse, rather than two.”

Making up her mind, she tells Horace to forego the second horse and that the two of them will ride together.

Adella mounts the horse and indicates for Horace to sit behind her. As he does so, it dawns on her just how different she is from just a few days ago. The mere fact that she is in a skirt and is not riding sidesaddle is, itself, shocking. She rationalizes that the dress is a bit large, anyway, offering adequate modesty. Besides, riding in this manner is more in line with that of a young commoner woman, and that fits in well with her plan for getting away from the palace grounds.

“Horace, I would prefer that my identity not be announced this night,” she says. She adjusts her scarf to pull it over her forehead and hair. “Why don’t we pretend that I am a woman from the village who is in need of escort back to her home?”

“Of course, Your Highness,” says the stableboy. “I do that several times a week for your brothers. The guards won’t think anything of it.”

The mention of her brothers hits Adella with a surprising feeling of jealousy. She pictures Stewart and Duncan in their comfortable quarters, freely bedding half of the female population of Mirantia, and everyone just shrugs and says, “Let boys be boys.” She, on the other hand, has been thrust against her will into the expectation that she must remain a spotless virgin until .....

She shakes her head with a knowing smile. “No... That’s how it used to be....” She wiggles her ass, pushing it back against Horace’s crotch, feeling his bulge which, although flaccid, fills her with longing.

Before she can ponder this further, they arrive at the palace gates. One of the guards greets Horace with a smirk and says, “Let me guess.... This one looks like Prince Duncan’s type.” He looks at Adella and says, “What’s the matter? Did the prince wear you out, or did he turn his attention to the rest of tonight’s entertainment?”

The other guard laughs, and Adella worries that this attention to her will cause them to recognize her. Fortunately, Horace speaks up. “Not this time. This is a guest of His Majesty, and he asked me to be especially discreet in getting her home before her husband returns.”

Adella is surprised. For one thing, she never would have guessed that Horace even knew what the word discreet meant, let alone that he would use it in a sentence. Even more surprising was the suggestion that her father would be guilty of a dalliance — particularly with a married woman. Whatever the truth is, Horace’s words had the desired effect. At the mention of the king, they snapped to attention and waved them through the gates.

Adella breathed a sigh of relief once they passed a safe distance from the gates.