A Queen for Casimir - Elizabeth Ardent

  • Written by: Elizabeth Ardent


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When Count Casimir overthrew the King of Bartavia, and had 18 year-old Princess Christine and  her best  friend  Lady Emily dragged off to the dungeon, the girls’ troubles had only begun. For Casimir planned to make himself the new King, and he would choose one of them as his Queen… after first cruelly testing them, to see which of the two noble beauties could best sate his unnatural lust.



Count Casimir left them soon after, promising to return the next evening to continue becoming acquainted with his future Queen, whoever it finally turned out to be.  Harkness, showing more humanity than Christine would have credited to him, finally relieved Emily of the painful ring gag.  He fed them a meal of cold pease porridge and stale crusts of bread, then secured them for the night, attaching the chains of the naked girls behind them to rings  in the floor, and leaving them the freedom to move as far as the chains allowed, although they remained locked in the manacles he had forged for them, as before.

“Please, Master Harkness,” Emily said, as he bid them good night and prepared to leave them, “must we sleep on these cold stones?  Could you not spare even the thinnest scraps of blankets for our poor naked bodies?”

“My Lady, it seems a hard, cruel thing, and it weren’t what I would do,” he answered, “but My Lord Count’s wants you both bedded this way for now.  When you earn clothes and blankets by learning how to please him, then you will have them, and not before.  Good night, My Ladies.”

After Harkness’ footsteps could be heard no more, Christine said, "Come closer to me, my poor, dear Emily, and let me hold you in my arms." Whether through carelessness or because he had no instructions to do otherwise, Harkness had chained them close enough that they were able to embrace each other and cling together for comfort in that dreadful place.

Soon the girls were lying pressed together side-by-side, each with her arms wrapped around the other, sharing the warmth of their bodies.  Christine sighed with satisfaction when they settled in position with Emily’s golden head on her shoulder..

“My poor, sweet Emily, you are all I have left in the world, and I am all you have,” Christine whispered, her lips inches away from those of her friend.  “It pains my heart so to see you trapped here in this terrible place.  I would give anything to save you; gladly I would sacrifice my life for your succor.  But I am helpless and can do nothing to help.  Not even can I offer you a horse blanket or a simple bed of straw for your ease.  I can but offer mine own body for your bed, little comfort though it may give you.”

Emily smiled.  When she spoke, the scent of her sweet breath momentarily made Christine forget her sorrows.  “But it gives me great comfort, most beloved Christine, far more than would the finest feather-bed, though it be clothed in silken sheets and goose-down quilts.  We have each other at least, if only for a little while, and that surely is a thing of great worth.  Can you not feel how my heart beats in my chest while I lie here in your dear embrace from the way your sweet breasts press against mine own or from the warmth of your belly as it presses against me?  Do you not feel as I do at this moment, as if we were no longer two, but only one, sharing together a single heart?”

Christine was silent for a moment, considering. Finally she answered, haltingly at first, “Most beloved Emily, I feel… I feel…I know not the right words to speak, but my body is strangely light and heart pounds within me, as if a great moment of joy was near, as if…”  She stopped and drew Emily’s mouth down to hers until their lips met in a kiss.  They had kissed many times before, in greeting or in parting, in congratulations for some achievement, on birthdays and other occasions.  But never before had they kissed like this.  Christine’s body shuddered as though an earthquake was passing through her, while Emily for a little while was transported and knew only the touch of soft lips and the warmth of smooth skin on her body.

All unknowing, their mouths opened while their lips still pressed together, and Christine’s tongue slid into Emily’s mouth.  The blonde girl made a soft sound deep in her throat, pulled the Princess’ body closer still, and wrapped one long leg around the other’s slender waist.

Christine, with a great effort of will, fought her way through the delicious fog around her brain that made it almost impossible for her to think straight.  She pulled her lips away and whispered, “Emily, what are we doing?  What is happening to us?”

Emily’s hand gently touched the Princess’ cheek, then slid down to stroke her breast.  The Princess shuddered again under the touch.  “It is love, I think, sweet Christine.  It can only be love. What else could be so strong? ”  She lowered her head, and sucked the stiff nipple into her mouth, and flicked it with her tongue.

The sensation Christine felt was in a way very like the arousal she had unwillingly experienced at Harkness' hands earlier in the day, but in another way, was altogether unlike it.  The executioner had known how to manipulate her body so that it would respond as he wished, but nothing he did had touched her heart and, she was quite certain, nothing he could do would ever affect her the way that Emily was at this moment.  The feelings aroused by her friend’s hands, mouth and body went beyond mere bodily stimulation; they came from Christine’s very soul.  The feeling was so powerful, she was sure she would die of its wonder.

“Emily, dear, sweet Emily,” she moaned as the other girl’s hand found its way between her thighs, which the Princess had spread wide without even knowing it.  When Emily’s fingers delicately stroked her engorged pink button, Christine dug her fingernails into the flesh of her friend’s back in her need.  Just before she thought her heart would burst for joy, she climaxed, arching up her hips to meet Emily, calling her name again and again, trembling like a victim of fever, keeping that loving hand trapped between her thighs.

“Are you well, dear one?” Emily whispered in her ear.

“I… I do not know… am I well?” she repeated, as if puzzled by the question.  “It is not easy to say.  I feel as if I was before this night but a thing of wood, a mannequin, and only just now have become flesh and blood in your arms.”  She squeezed Emily in a ferocious embrace.  “I love you, Lady Emily of Fernhill, and if God chooses to take me to Heaven this very night, I will go to him in peace, knowing at last what it means to be truly alive.”

“Let us pray that does not happen, for then we would lose each other, dear Christine,” Emily said, “and our new lives would end before they could begin.”

“I cannot gainsay you. Let us then  make the most of whatever time we are given,” Christine said.  She began to cover Emily with wild kisses, beginning on her lips and face, and then moving to her neck and her breasts.

“Oh, please don’t stop, my love,” Emily moaned.

Christine had no intention of stopping.  She discovered that arousing Emily gave her as much pleasure as being aroused by her.  She spent a long time stroking and fondling the blonde girl’s full breasts, marveling at their softness and resilience, taking the stiff, pink nipples in her mouth, nibbling and sucking them until Emily squirmed with pleasure.  Then, greatly daring, she pushed Emily’s thighs apart and slid her mouth down between them.

“Oh, oh, what are you doing, Christine?” Emily mumbled in her distraction.  “Is it not a sin?”

By way of answer, Christine’s mouth fastened on Emily’s plump lower lips, and sent her tongue to delve inside the slippery interior of her sex.  Emily moaned and raised her hips up to bring her tongue in deeper.  Christine’s now found Emily’s love button. She flicked it rapidly with her tongue, making the other girl cry out with her pleasure.

Christine raised her head.  Her lips and chin were shiny with her lover’s juices.  “A sin? Can God not wish us to know a thing so wondrous?” she asked. 

She returned to nibble and suck the bit of inflamed flesh until Emily erupted in a long, all-consuming orgasm.  When the Duchess became aware again of her surroundings, she reached down and drew Christine up to lie beside her again.  Her friend’s face was flushed and her eyes were shining with pure joy.

“Well?” she asked, propped up on one elbow, looking down at Emily.

“What?” Emily asked.  “Oh that.  It was all right, I suppose.”

Christine started to make an angry retort, then took another look at Emily and burst out laughing.  Emily wrapped her arms around her beloved, pulling Christine close, and the two girls laughed and laughed, as though they had not a care in the world.  For a long time, the dungeon, which had many times been filled with screams of torment, echoed with a sound rarely, if ever, heard there, the sound of pure merriment.

This book was added to our catalog on Monday 27 November, 2017.

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