Liandra chooses the Duke

Liandra swallowed, her face flushed with arousal. "I don't think I can make it back to my chambers," she told the Duke. The touch of her undergarments and the weight of her dress were a constant, tingling stimulation now.

Arthos smiled. He moistened his finger and thumb, pinched out a candle and twisted its wick to a nub. He lifted it from its holder and offered it to Liandra. "Your highness," he said. "I will guard the door while you apply this, if you wish, so you may return to your chambers. Or I can offer more personal assistance for your discomfort. I am at your service, whatever your choice."

The Princess of Luxia gritted her teeth as her rear hole, until recently a peaceful and well-regulated exit, ached for entrance. "Inkblots and chamberpots," she hissed. "Arthos, I need you. In m-my, my, bum!"

"Needs must," the Duke said, nodding. "Come."

Taking Liandra by the arm and shoulder, he guided her to a side table. Casting down his hat and cloak to soften the wooden surface, he helped her sit on the edge.

A spasm of need made the Princess tremble as the weight of her body pressed through her buttocks to the table. "Ah!" she cried, clutching at Arthos.

"Recline, your Highness," he directed, easing her onto her back.

As her weight equalized, her need was bearable, and she found her tongue again. "Hurry!"

"Raise your knees," the Duke indicated. He lifted her skirts and pushed up the tail of the fine linen smock that lay against her skin.

Liandra realized her pussy was exposed, and protested. "But my modesty!"

Arthos grunted and draped a handkerchief over the Princess's glorious golden bush and swollen pink labia. "There. Knees up a touch." A faint halo of golden hair circled her rear opening. He extended a finger. It pulsed at his touch.

"Unnnnhhh!" Liandra groaned. "Yes. Yes, touch me."

The Duke probed. Responsive, very responsive, but tight.

"Eeeeeeh," the Princess whined.

The Duke dipped his fingers in the soft dripping of one of the everyday candles. He blessed his steward's economy. Fine candles were hard and did not drip.

His fingers greased, he continued.

"Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh!" Liandra cried, her hips shuddering as the warm wax touched her. "Inside, please!"

"Your servant," Duke Arthos said, pressing forward.

"Ohhhh," the Princess sighed as his finger penetrated. "More."

Arthos withdrew and added a finger.

"Yes, yes, yes," Liandra said.

Expressions of pleasure, need, and discomfort chased across the Princess's face as Arthos watched. Her face and figure so much like her mother, her sounds of pleasure. But unguarded. Artless. Taught modesty for form's sake, but never taught shame.

"You will make a fine Queen one day, your Highness," the Duke said.

"Oh," she said, her thoughts distant from compliments.

Arthos worked his fingers in the Princess's bum. Her hips thrust back at him, and her head and shoulders rolled with the pleasurable sensation. That blessed, damnable yellow pearl. It was up there, somewhere.

"Deeper!" Liandra urged.

His fingers were thrust to their limit. "Princess?"

"Deeper, I pray you!"

"Hang it all," Arthos said. He fumbled open his breeches. A scoop of candle grease coated his member.

"Deeper, I beg you!" the Princess cried.

Arthos withdrew his fingers.

"No, deeper!" the Princess begged.

"Here." He touched the tip of his cock to Liandra's anus. "Press out at me, push, strain."

"Ayahhh," Liandra groaned. Her face tightened as she strained. Her ring opened, taking in the head of his cock.

Arthos pressed forward, her ring squeezing his shaft in little pulses.

"Yes, deeper, deeper, deeper..." she said. His tip nudged the pearl. Her eyes flew open wide, meeting his, then rolled upward as her body heaved with a convulsive climax.

Arthos unleashed himself, thrusting for his own pleasure into the willing asshole of the royal heiress. Such joy, knowing Liandra as he knew Kiria. Such beauty in her pleasure. Such a gift Liandra's need had given him tonight.

After many waves, many tight squeezes of her ring on his shaft, Liandra's desire was satisfied. Her eyes opened, looking softly up at him.

"Have you finished?" she asked kindly. "Are you satisfied."

His cock still throbbed hotly in her ass.

"I could ask for no more," Arthos said.

The pearl throbbed.

"Stop it!" Liandra protested. "Finish yourself, you big goose!"

"Your goose to command, your highness," Arthos said. His breath was uneven. He closed his eyes and thrust forward again, again, again.

Liandra lay back and enjoyed the sensation, now that the magical need of the yellow pearl was blunted. So this was how her mother knew this man, this brave adventurer and bold captain.

"Kir..." he whimpered. "Liandra, ah!" His face tightened, his cock swelled, and he came.

The Princess felt his hot liquid tribute spill out inside her. "Yes," she said. "Yes."

Liandra felt him withdraw. The pearl followed. She lay back dreamily. Vaguely, she recalled him blotting about with little cloths, picking her up in his arms, and carrying her away.

Liandra awoke in a soft bed. Her rear end throbbed a bit, as much pleasure as soreness. There was a ribbon trailing from under the next pillow. She drew it forth. It was attached to two silk bags.

The little silk bag held her yellow pearl, nestled in cambric. Elsewhere in the room she saw her traveling things.

The longer bag held a sheathed rod. When she withdrew it from the sheath, she saw one end was smooth, with a slightly tapered end, and the other was circled with a round, flat disk like the guard of a dagger, and ended with a ring which could easily fit two of her fingers.

There was a note in the bag, and a little jar. "Keep nearby for self-assistance when you wear the yellow one." The jar held a blob of slippery grease.

"She's awake!" she heard a young feminine voice say with a giggle.

"Hsht, hsht," said another. "I think you woke her. Let her rest."