7 comments/  28321 views/  8 favorites

Enchanted Twelve 1

By: RedHairedandFriendly



Author's Note: The following is the first chapter to a new chain story. If you recall the fairy tale Twelve Dancing Princesses then you may like this naughty twist of that childhood story. If you're not familiar with it, then I do hope you still enjoy the story. This chapter is the opening of the chain. Other writers will follow; their chapters will reflect the three nights concerning their Princess. Have fun and take time to comment. We, the writers, appreciate your feedback. Thanks! ~ Red



Enchanted Twelve 2



Author's Note: Following is the second connecting chapter to the chain story "Enchanted Twelve". Each Princesses' story is being written by different writers here at Literotica. For those reading this series as a group I do hope you are enjoying the tale. Here is a quick reference: Enchanted Twelve 1 is the first connecting chapter, followed by the first chapters of the Princesses' stories, followed next by Enchanted Twelve 2, then the second chapters of each Princesses' story again. This will continue until the chain is complete. Enjoy the tangled web we weave. ~ Red





Enchanted Twelve 3



Author's Note:. A warm and heartfelt thank you to all the writers that have been participating in this very unique chain story. Another warm and heartfelt thank you to the readers that have left comments or sent us emails. We appreciate it very much. These chapters are all very unique in one way or another and I have enjoyed everyone of them. We will be concluding the chain soon, yet I have a feeling these characters will forever live in our hearts and minds. Whenever we hear the story of the Twelve Dancing Princesses I believe we'll have names and faces for them now. Thank you again. ~ Red

Westingfield

Andrew sat quietly in the gardens of Westingfield castle. His hands rested on his knees. His head was bent down and to anyone who didn't know him, they would have thought he were sleeping. Yet, he was not. Sleep had alluded him. He had tried to catch a nap when he had finished retelling the Queen and King of the events that had transpired during the night. However no rest came as the images of Danielle and Simon flooded his mind. The sound of a witch screamed in his ear. The frolicking of sister after sister in the enchanted world or Oarthland... all of it hindered him and left him weak and worried. 

"There you are." 

He did not need to turn around to know who had approached. He had sensed her before she'd even spoke. "Yes, I am here," he whispered quietly, then rose offering his hand to the eldest Princess...his Danielle. 

She smiled softly, stood up on her toes to kiss him and closed her eyes. Only a second or two passed before Andrew placed his lips on hers. He still fought the demons that told him she was the whore that many had rumored her to be years ago. As her tongue darted timidly over his lips, a moan of both desire and anguish poured from him. He pulled her against him, crushed her breasts into his chest and plundered her mouth like a man possessed. When they parted, both were left breathless. Danielle's eyes were full of wonder, excitement and desire. Andrew studied them, curious as if those eyes reflected the same emotions whenever she was in Simon's arms. He had seen her body respond as any woman's would when they were being aroused, yet he'd never been close enough to read her eyes. If he ever was... he feared what he would see. 

"Did you need me?" he asked, pulling away and then leading her down a worn path of brick and stone. The gardens grew thicker the more steps they meandered and he felt a sense of peace brush over them. He knew during the daylight hours Danielle was his and his alone. 

"I remembered something this morning... when I woke up." 

Andrew stopped short and stared down at her. "A dream?" 

"I think so. It was quick to come. I opened my eyes and the images were still fresh, so I wrote them down." She quickly produced a small notebook and pressed it into Andrew's palm. 

He looked at it. His hands trembling as he worked through whether or not he wanted to read her memories. What if they were of Simon? What if she did not recall the brush of his lips against her ear when they had rested in the forest? What if she professed desire to remain in Oarthland and leave him and Westingfield behind? 

"Aren't you going to read it?" Danielle suddenly asked, her imploring question invading his musings. 

"I'd rather you tell me," he admitted, pushing the journal back into her hands. 

Danielle frowned then shrugged her shoulders, tucked the book back in the pocket of her gown and reclaimed his arm. As they walked she spoke in a quiet voice. "It was strange...waking up that is. I felt as if I were in two worlds. There was a fog surrounding me. Voices. Music... and you." She blushed brightly as she told him how she had dreamed about their time in the meadow, their first time together and then she paled as she spoke of how the dream shifted. She was suddenly in a castle and in the arms of a stranger. A man that she coupled with, but one that when the act was over made her feel empty. 

Hope surged through Andrew and he mentally thanked the Queen for the words she had repeated throughout her council. Danielle acted because she had no control of her actions when she was in Oarthland. Surely he told himself, that this "empty" feeling she had was due to that loss of "control." She did love him...didn't she? Andrew shook his head, trying to dispel the doubts that plagued him. "Is there more?" he asked. 

"Yes. There was evil there; I'd never felt such evil. Screams echoed through my head and shouts of betrayal. Just as quickly though all that fear melted away because there was this energy. A sort of peace settling over me." Danielle blushed becomingly and looked up into Andrew's eyes. "It was as if you were there with me. Protecting me from whatever is trying to harm my sisters and myself." 

Andrew pulled her to him, tucked her head under his chin and ran his fingers over her hair. "I'm trying Princess. I'm trying." 

Danielle shook her head against him. He knew so much about her dreams and yet he could not stop them. The Queen had told him to return again, to take the blood stained dagger he'd used on her sister and dip its tip into her drink. She explained to him that her sister had not always been evil. They had been close once, but then a man had come between them. Or at least that was the excuse Angora had for choosing to walk on the dark side of the moon. In so doing this, her blood became poison. 

Andrew had sat entranced by the tale his Queen told. As she spoke he had to remind himself it was not a fairy one, but it was all true. It all seemed so simple, yet he knew it would not be. He had to return to Oarthland, expose himself and somehow get the witch to drink her own blood. 

Andrew held onto the woman he loved more than life itself; he swore to not leave Oarthland until Angora lay dead. 

"My love." 

Her voice brought him back to the world around him. "Yes?" 

"What are you thinking about?" 

Andrew chuckled softly, pulled away slightly and ran a palm over her cheek. "You," he answered truthfully. "Come let us find our own private place and try to get some sleep. I too had dreams and they were not ones I wish to share with you...yet." 

Danielle nodded and the two continued down the path, only veering from its safety when Andrew felt they were deep enough in its lushness to remain hidden from any prying eyes. 

*****

Oarthland

"Bitch!" Angora screeched as her hand flew out to connect with the mute girl's head. The thud was clearly audible and an inaudible wail escaped the child's throat. "Don't make that sound!" Angora hissed, "I should have slit your throat instead of just removing your foul tongue!" 

The girl only nodded, agreeing with her Mistress, for she knew to disagree would only add more bruises to her disfigured form. Angora winced as her slave cleansed the wound that the invisible demon had placed on her. When the girl was finished with her job, she watched as the soiled linen and all the red fluid of life was destroyed by the licking flames of the fire. Only then did Angora breathe easier in the room where her life had for a moment hung in the hands of a child who had every right to wish her dead. Fear however had kept the girl from acting. Angora knew this. She feared her fate without Angora in her life, more than living with the evil enchantress. 

Eventually Angora was left alone. Her mind working frantically on how to capture the one that had a piece of her, a deadly piece. She needed to find the traitor, the one that still held precious drops of her blood. Though it was dry, she knew that even a flake would destroy her. There was no doubt that her sister had once again invaded the lands of Oarthland with her magic. She'd smelled it, the odor of happiness had been easy to recognize. It was the same foul smell that Andrea had worn when she wed Bartholomew. Joy. Happiness. Love. Uniques fragrances that drove those who did not possess it mad. 

****

Westingfield

Bartholomew held his wife. His fingers toyed with the thick strands of her hair that lay across his broad chest. "I feel for that young man," the King admitted. 

Andrea nodded her head, agreeing with him. 

"He is struggling to maintain control. I hear his voice; he wants to shake her, to slap sense into her and yet he wants to protect her, love her," she whispered, propped herself up and stared at her husband, "It will happen soon. I feel it. I feel that connection to my twin slowly being severed. I just do not know how many of our daughters will return to us. How many lives will Oarthland claim? Will Angora win the souls of all of them? Some? None?" 

Bartholomew sighed, pulled Andrea to him and kissed her softly. "I do not hold the answers. I wish I did. Sometimes I wish we'd..."

"Shh," Andrea whispered, pressing one finger against her husband's lips, "do not ever wish that. No matter what happens we will get through it. I pray we are allowed to keep all our children, but if we are not, then at least we had many years with them."  

A tear fell from Andrea's eyes. Bartholomew caught it and rubbed it away. "I love you, my Queen." 

"And I you." 

With a tender nudge of his hand upon her shoulder, Andrea moved to her back. Her arms opened to welcome her mate into their warm embrace. Soon their worries were pushed away as their bodies molded together. 

****

The dining hall was full of chattering females and two men. Both had given up a long time ago in conversing with the women of Westingfield. Bartholomew had taken Andrew to his left and waved off any type of communication revolving the sleepless nights. He instead tried to size up the man he was sure would succeed in the quest put before him and win the hand of one of his daughters. There was no doubt in his mind Andrew would chose Danielle and once the spell was broken, he was sure Danielle would chose Andrew. 

He had observed them together just before the dinner hour had approached. He'd watched them emerge from the gardens. Their fingers had been twined tightly together. Their clothing rumpled. Their hair littered with various leaves and twigs. They had not seen him and he was rewarded with the sight of their parting ways. He could not miss the joy that had been so easily read on his eldest daughter's face. It had been many years since the smile of happiness had crossed her beautiful features. 

A soft frown settled on his lips as he thought of the past and how Danielle's one indiscretion had made her bitter and almost soulless to men. The rumor's had only been partially true. Danielle had loved one of the guards, she'd bedded him, but all in the name of love... yet he had not loved her. He was just doing what some men do...hoping to find a way into the royal family by any means and his means had been by working on the eldest Princess's heart. 

When Danielle discovered the man in the arms of not one, but two of her most trusted ladies maids, she swore all men were vile, evil, and dishonest sorts. No one had touched her heart again...now though, as Bartholomew stared at Andrew, he felt that Danielle had found her match. 

"It is time," Andrea whispered to her husband, pulling him back to the dinner conversation. 

"Aye, I just wish to linger... I too worry this will be the last meal we spend with them." 

Andrea bit down on her lower lip, nodded her head in understanding, but rose from the table. "But look at them, my love. Even now as we sit at the table they are changing. Their eyes grow heavy, the yawns longer and louder. Even our cobbler is exhausted. We all need to retire. In the morning, if God wills it, all of this...will be over." 

They spoke in hushed tones, mostly ignored by their offspring. Bartholomew rose from his seat, patted Andrew on the shoulder and moved to kiss each one of his daughters on the head. When he returned to Andrea's side he claimed her hand. "But for it all to be over...how many will we lose?" 

"I don't know," Andrea admitted with a soulful look on her face. 

*****

The night seemed darker to Andrew as he followed the Princesses through the garden and into the rolling mist that magically appeared from some portal that he had traveled through two other nights. It still surprised him, though every step he took he told himself to expect it. He kept his eyes open, constantly looking for some door, or some magically hallway that would suddenly appear, taking them from one garden into another. Nothing ever appeared though. They all simply moved and the mist rolled in. 

Once more they all reached the water's edge and once more the Princesses of Westingfield either went away on their own, together, or with the men that were somehow tied to them. He fought the urge to follow Danielle. He longed to be with her, even if it meant watching her couple with another man. Yet, he could not. He had to venture down his own path in Oarthland, one that would lead him back to the castle of Angora. 



Enchanted Twelve 4



Enchanted Twelve 4

RedHairedandFriendly©

Author's Note: The following is one of the many closing chapters to Enchanted Twelve – a chain story surrounding the life of the Twelve Dancing Princesses. It was started back in 2008, and sadly due to the trials of life, became placed on the back burner, the far back burner. I am happy to finally start tying the loose ends and if you have a chance to visit the forums of Lit. I encourage you to visit this Literotica Forum link: http://forum.literotica.com/showpost.php?p=39257564&postcount=869 – it will allow you a chance to refresh your memory of what transpired between the ladies of Westingfield and the men of Oarthland. Thank you and enjoy. ~ Red

Oarthland 

Andrew battled an internal war with himself the further he moved from Danielle and Simon. He had no doubt that she would be safe in the other man's arms, and that is what bothered him the most, that and the fact that she would also be cumming and calling out his name, not Andrew's. But he knew that he had to finish what he'd started the night before. Angora's blood rested on the dry knife that was wrapped securely in the cloth attached to his belt. There was no turning back; he would see the task complete, or die trying. 

When he reached the shore of the river, several yards downstream from where the Princesses met their Princes, he lifted a candle from his satchel and lit it. The light gleamed; yellow light filled the air around him. He then lit a second and a third; the three candles were a sign that someone on shore sought passage across the water. It did not take long before a long boat approached, and a smaller boat was lowered from its side. The men rowed to shore, and Andrew climbed in, tossing them a satchel full of gold, that would be found worthy in any world. 

When he was onboard the larger vessel, the captain came forward and another bag of coins were handed over. "I seek the shore of Angora the witch of Oarthland." 

The men around him grumbled, cursed and spit at the sound of the witch's name. The captain turned around and ordered his men to row and to do so with great haste. Andrew sat on a pile of rope, and waited for whatever fate would befall him. 

~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~ 

Danielle gazed down at the man who rested between her thighs. His mouth had covered her with sweet kisses; his tongue had caressed the inner most recesses of her sex, and his fingers had toyed with the fleshy walls of her pussy and the puckered entrance of her ass. Yet, she could not picture who he was. She knew him, yet did not. Her mind was confused as images of another came into play – she searched her memory, just as the man who was pleasuring her flicked her clit with his tongue. "Oh, my sweet cherub of succulent honey," the man whispered, before rubbing his face back and forth on her exposed regions. 

Her throat moaned softly, but her mind still refused to acknowledge more than the occasional spark of pleasure from the man's attentions. "I'm sorry, I just – I just -." 

He lifted his head and stared at her. "What my delicate flowery bloom of sunshine?" 

She giggled. "Andrew would never –." She paused, a look of confusion on her face. 

"Andrew? Who is this Andrew?" 

"I'm sorry, what is your name again?" Danielle asked her lover.

"What is wrong with you? Who is this Andrew?" 

Danielle blinked away the shock in her eyes as she came to and recalled the man who was covered in her juices. "Simon, Andrew is our cobbler, he's my," her jaw dropped, and her face paled, "he's my – my – oh my God, Simon – he's my lover!" 

Simon's eyes grew wide in their sockets. "You're lover?" he shouted, rose to his feet and wiped at his mouth, then spit the taste of her from his tongue. "You have a cobbler for a lover? I've had my cock in a whore's hole?" 

Her eyes filled with tears; she reached out to him. "Simon, I just came to realize it – he was here last night. I felt him. It had to be him," she told herself. "He's here now, I'm sure of it." 

"Then go to him," Simon demanded, and pushed her away when she tried to bring him back. "Danielle, you do not love me, nor I you. You came here every night, I poured words of poetry out to you, but in my heart I did not love you. I am not ignorant. I knew this," he spread his arms out; "this would not last." 

She eyed him suspiciously. "You are not angry?" 

"No, you are still a whore, but I can bed a whore who fucks those of her station, but not one that lowers herself to take a common cock." 

"Whatever did I see in you?" she asked him. 

Simon laughed. "Look around you Danielle, this is magic. You've craved this since the first moment you had a cock in you, you just didn't know it was what you wanted. You created your own dreams; the portal just brought you here. Orathland is full of magic, some can be explained, and some cannot. I find it much easier to enjoy the ride than to fight it." 

"So, you never loved me?"

"I loved you, but not the kind you seem to desire from your cobbler."

Simon turned away, and left Danielle in the gardens. She gazed at his back, and then felt her stomach roll and pitch. If Andrew was here, then he knew about her and Simon and he knew that she was just what Simon had said she was a whore. She buried her head in her hands and cried, it took her several minutes to realize that if her lover from Westingfield was in Oarthland, then he was there to help her, and she had to do all she could to aid him in his quest, but where could she find him, and who could help her?

~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~ 

Andrew nodded his thanks to the captain and his men. They had delivered him just a short distance from Angora's castle. He breathed deep and tried not to vomit from the stench in the air. The night was dark, and the clouds thick around the land he had ventured onto. He walked into the woods, doing his best to stay in the shadows of the night, where he felt certain no one could see him from the boat; he pulled out the magic cloak and pulled it over himself. Sounds foreign to him, made his pulse race; he trekked forward, fully aware that nothing could interrupt his quest for the King and Queen of Westingfield, or all would be lost. 

Several times during his walk through the forest, he thanked the Queen for the gift of invisibility. He had no doubt that without that gift he would not have survived the beasts that pressed close to his hidden figure. His scent was obvious to the animals, but the magic confused them. He closed the distance between him and fate. 

~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~ 

Danielle wandered away from the castle and the dancing that she had always been drawn to. Once she realized the truth of her love for Andrew, and Simon's confession of magic, Danielle could see Oarthland in a whole new light. Her gaze fixated on small fireflies, but the more she studied their movements, the more she realized they were more than bugs, but they were people.

"Help me, if you can," she whispered. They fluttered about her, eventually settling on a tree. She walked over to it, and touched the bark. It felt warm, and then without any words being spoken, it opened, and Danielle walked through the offered portal.  

On the other side of the portal, she came upon two beautiful women who were enjoying each other with the same passion she was sure she had shared with both Simon and Andrew. Her soft gasp upon seeing them embracing each other, made both women stop and stare. "Are you here to play with us?" the emerald green female asked. Danielle blushed, the question was asked with a seductive grin. "You remind me of our friend Merry." 

"She is my sister; I am Danielle – the eldest Princess. I am seeking my one true love, Andrew. He is here, I know it. I can sense his presence."

"We have not seen anyone, but if you wish you can turn back the way you came, think about your lover and the path may lead you to him," the other female said. 

Danielle thanked them, and returned to the tree. She thought of Andrew and stepped over the threshold and was transported again, this time emerging in a forest so thick and full of darkness that she feared she would fall victim to the beasts within them. Her fear was just, for just as she took a step a wolf leapt out, his fangs dripped with saliva. The sound of a sword being freed from its sheath was the only warning the wolf had before its head dropped free of its neck. 

The Princess gasped as the skeleton figures appeared at her side. "A sister of our Merry." 

"Scapulus, Radia?" 

"Yes, my dear. What are you doing in these woods? It is not safe for you," Radia scolded. Scapulus cleaned his blade and returned it to its protective sheath. 

"My love, Andrew is here. I feel it. He is trying to stop what is happening to my sisters and me. I believe in the magic again and that has given me insight into this world. I am finally seeing the magic before me and I know I can help him. I must." 

"We can only take you to her gates, after that the journey is yours and your love's to finish," Scapulus told her. 

"I will take whatever aid you can give." 

"Take her, Scapulus – I will arrange a quick departure for her and her sisters in case they must flee quickly." Radia left in search of more of Oarthland's more kindly beasties. Scapulus helped Danielle onto the back of his steed and together they traveled toward the gates of Angora's keep. 

~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~ 

Andrew watched a young man stop at the gates of the witch's castle. The small girl that served Angora approached the gate and opened it for the man. She lowered her gaze, and tried to make herself smaller than she was. When the man stepped in, the girl glanced around and closed the gate behind her, only she chose not to lower the lock. He stared at her back, curious as to why she had left Angora's home free to whoever may wish to wander into it. Andrew cursed low, and wondered if a trap had been set for him. He had to take the bait, and as he made his way across the threshold, he prayed the cloak still kept him hidden. 

Each step brought him closer to the witch's door. When he reached it, he noticed the hard wooden plank had again been left unlocked. His throat constricted. Yes, there was no doubt, it was a trap, and for him to gain entrance, he would have to fall into it. Andrew went inside and waited for the man who had gone on before him to attack. When no attack came Andrew thanked the heavens of both worlds, and proceeded deeper into the keep. 

A sound brought him up short; he stared at the figure that hugged the wall of the chamber he had entered. Eyes sought out what words could not ask. The servant girl reached out with her hands, and grunted low, the vibrations in her throat seemed to beg for some sort of answer. Andrew pulled a clean dagger from his boot, and held it skillfully. He knew the girl had every reason to hate Angora, could he count her as friend, or was she truly devoted to the witch. Andrew knew he needed help getting close to Angora, and to do that he had to trust one person, and who better than the girl who had suffered the most at the witch's hand. 

With a quick flick of his fingers, and his wrist, Andrew dropped the cloak and the girl gasped; a high pitched wail poured out of her throat and echoed through the room. He rushed forward, the dagger went to her throat, and his hand covered her mouth. He stared into her eyes, and felt saddened by the fear etched there. "I'm sorry," he whispered, "but your mistress causes great distress to so many that I love. I seek help in destroying her." 

The girl stared at him. Her gaze told him she understood his words, but her stature still stiff and rigid did not tell him she would aid him. So he held her closer, and whispered in her ear about the land of Westingfield, and the beauty that would be hers if she were to help him; he promised to care for her and to give her the life that she has long deserved. "Miss, I cannot do this alone. I am just a cobbler, but you, you are a trusted companion and I have the weapon to free you, I just do not have the means."

The girl glanced down at the hand that held the dagger, then back at Andrew. He lowered the weapon and released the hold he had on her mouth. "You are stronger than you realize," he told her. "Here," he said, pulling the wrapped dagger from his hip; he opened the cloth and showed her the weapon. "This is her blood, she only has to taste a flake of it and she will poison herself; her reign will be over and you – you can begin your own life, either here..." – her eyes grew wide – "Or with me in Oarthland. I have an apprentice I think you would find most pleasing." 

He smiled softly at her blush. "I know it will be hard, but I saw how she treated you. You are not the fool she makes you out to be. Please, I have so many counting on me." He watched her step back and gather his cloak; she pressed it back to him, and took the dagger. Andrew watched her take the weapon and the cloth over to a table; she scrapped the flakes from the steel. They fell silently into a small bowl. The cloth, she folded and placed in the pocket of her apron. "I wish I knew your name," he said. 

Her eyes lowered in sadness. She shrugged her shoulders and smiled softly. "In Westingfield we will learn it; you will not remain silent forever. The Queen cannot give you a tongue, but she can teach you to speak by other means." The girl's eyes lit up. Andrew put on the cloak and followed the servant from the room. 

~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~ 

"I wish I could do more Princess," Scapulus said as he helped her down from his horse and gazed back at the castle. "You are brave," he told her, "and Radia will arrive with friends to guide you back to the boats, if you are unable to travel there on your own." 

"Thank you Scapulus, may I ask though, why can you not go into battle with me?" 

The skeleton frowned. "Do not think that I fear this fight, for if I could I would be there with you and I would slaughter the witch for the harm she brings to those I find most loyal, but this battle, this is one that was started many moons ago, and it is between your house and hers. We can only offer the simplest of aid." 

Danielle smiled softly. "I understand and I appreciate all you have already done for me." 

"I shall wait on the edge of the forest, until the battle is over." 

A soft nod from Danielle was given before she stepped toward Angora's gates. Her hands trembled as she pressed them open, and hugged the shadows while she approached the closed door. Just as she reached for it, it opened and a man stared down at her. "Ah, my cousin Danielle, please come in. We had hoped the spell held and when the gates whispered to mother that a Princess had arrived, we both were discouraged and thought young Cecile had returned - her mission failed." 

"My sister?"

"Yes, you see, we sent her on a special mission. Did you not notice she was not with you when you at the dance?" 

Danielle studied the man before, and as dawning reached her eyes, his laughter rang out. "What have you done?" she screamed and turned to go. The man gripped her arm and held her against him.

"She's been sent to kill your mother and if all goes well, our worlds will be linked, my mother, your aunt will rule both worlds, and you will entertain me as I desire, all of you will." He kissed her neck, and ran his palm down her side, up to her left breast which he groped with his thick fingers. 

She struggled against him, but that only added to his delight. "I do enjoy the spirit you possess." He pulled her along with him. "But before I claim your cunt as mine, I best let mother have a look at you." Danielle stumbled along; his fingers bruised her flesh. They reached the dining hall, and Angora laughed when she saw the eldest of her sister's children. 

"My sweet Warren, look what you have brought me. It seems our plan is still in play and young Cecile still does our bidding." 

"Yes mother, I thought to take sport with my cousin, but knew you would want to see her first." 

Angora laughed. "I have no use for her. The weak child, the sightless one – she will do what we ask of her. The spell was spoken, it holds true," she glanced at Danielle, and then back at her son, "take her and use her as you desire, and feel free to make her scream, she resembles her mother too much for my liking." 

Warren laughed as he wrapped his arm around Danielle's waist, pulled her to him and covered her mouth with his. She tried to twist her way free, but he still licked her face, and promised to tame her fiery core.

~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~ 

Andrew glanced at the servant girl and knew she was aware of where he was in the room. When he saw Danielle in Warren's grasp his heart skipped a beat. His fingers formed tight fists and he stepped closer to his captive Princess. His gaze shifted from Warren, then back to the girl. His pulse raced as he watched the girl take the bowl and carry it to a side table. Warren was too distracted to notice the small woman's actions. His mouth had moved to suck on Danielle's neck. Andrew growled low, the sound blended with Danielle's cry. He watched her breasts pop out of her gown; the material had torn easily from Warren's assault.

The cobbler gripped the blade and waited for the right time to spring into action. The goal to end Angora's life was no longer at the forefront of his mind. He hoped the young woman had enough anger in her heart to do the deed for him. He had to protect Danielle, and prayed that if the two of them failed, the Queen and King would one day forgive him. 

"Marie!" 

Andrew glanced at Angora. He pocketed the name away, thankful that one puzzle had been solved so easily. He only wished the others would fall into place. 

"No!" 

Danielle's scream made his heart lurch. Warren had thrown her to the ground; her skirts were raised and her pussy open for any and all to see. 

"You smell of cum," Warren growled, "did you fuck one of the Princes before coming here? You are a filthy whore, but even a used cunt is a good cunt." He lay on top of her, anchoring her with his body while one hand worked to free his manhood.

Angora watched her son as he fought with her niece. Her breath quickened and her hand moved under the table. Her fingers dug at her own sex, and she urged her offspring to fuck the slut, until she bled. Marie sat a glass of wine next to her mistress, and stepped back. The cloth she'd folded was taken from her pocket and draped over Angora's plate, covering her food to keep the heat contained. 

When Danielle screamed, Angora laughed, and took a long draw from her goblet. "Fuck the whore, fuck my sister's bitch!" the witch screamed. She coughed, and took another gulp of her drink. 

Andrew could take no more. He saw Warren's cock leap free from his britches and he knew it would take but a second for him to plunge his dick into his Princess's pussy. He threw off his cloak and launched himself at Warren's back. The knife he held went deep between the man's shoulder blades. The cobbler twisted the blade, pulled it free and plunged it again. Warren cried out, as Andrew continued to stab him. 

Angora screamed, knocked over her wine, and stared down at the cloth that covered her food. Red steam seemed to rise from the cloth. She coughed, and stared at her hand; red spittle covered her palm. She turned to Marie, who stood pale and shaking. Angora coughed again and a thick clot of blood flew from her lips. She spit another glob out, and advanced toward the girl. "You bitch," she hissed, before falling to her knees. Her stomach convulsed; acid from her stomach was expelled as well as more of her precious life. The floor was slow to absorb the crimson fluids. Marie stepped back, and gasped a sickly sound of fear. 

Danielle shoved at the weight of her cousin's body. She scrambled free, when Andrew lifted the bloody corpse from her smaller frame. Her cries bounced off the walls and burned Andrew's heart. He tossed the knife away and gathered her against him. "It is over, Danielle; he's dead, and," Andrew moved so she could see Angora's convulsing body jerk less and less. Danielle covered her face, hiding it in his chest, as he cooed and spoke softly to her. Marie stared down at her Mistress. The blood pooled at her feet; Marie stepped away as Angora's body shuttered one last time. 




Enchanted Twelve: Angelina Ch. 01



Angelina leaned back against the padded seat. It was so peaceful here, listening to the splash of the oars and the ripple of the water around the boat.

No father shouting, no servants running about, no sisters all chattering at once; just her and the boat and the lake ... and him.

She let her hand trail in the cool water and closed her eyes. If only this was real and not just a dream. If only she could stay here forever, instead of having to wake up tomorrow.

But she would wake up tomorrow and this would be gone. She opened her eyes, not wanting to miss the sights of this most wonderful dream – Dante being the best sight of all.

Dante - even his name was magical, mystical, marvellous – rowed steadily, pulling the little boat through the water with no discernible effort. He was strong, he was handsome and he was hers! 

Her thoughts drifted as she he rowed further and further across the lake. Gradually she forgot this was a dream, forgot about Westingfield and accepted this time and place as real, the memories of previous nights returned to confirm this reality.

Dante saw Angelina's expression change, as she moved from day reality to night reality, and smiled.  

As she watched the smile spread across his face, dimpling his cheeks and crinkling his eyes, she thought her heart would burst. A lock of dark hair fell over his forehead as he paused, shipping the oars and letting the boat drift as he leaned forward to take hold of her shoulders and pull her onto his lap.

Angelina gasped as the little boat rocked violently.

"It's all right, I won't let us tip," his deep mellow voice calmed her. He wrapped her in his arms, pressing her close to his chest and kissed her forehead.

She snuggled in, almost completely surrounded by him, visible only from the neck up and the knees down. He felt so safe.

"What do you think about a little private 'us' time tonight before we join the others at the ball?" Little kisses across her temples, cheeks and nose punctuated his question.

"Mmm," she purred, snuggling in even closer, "that would be wonderful."

"Indeed." He smiled wolfishly into her hair. "Maybe I should just lose these oars then. What do you think, little princess?"

Angelina loved it when he called her "little princess". She wasn't little, she was taller than most of her sisters, but she was small compared to him. But still, she pouted. She wanted at least a bit of a chance to show off tonight's lovely dress.

"But then how would we get to the ball?"

Dante stroked her face, turning it to his. "That would be a bit of a problem, wouldn't it?" 

Again he kissed her face as punctuation. "But I'm sure someone would notice we were missing and come looking for us - eventually." The last word breathed against her neck as Dante began nibbling her ear.

His hand slid into Angelina's bodice, cupping her ample breast and teasing the nipple. She jumped and squeaked, taken unawares by his bold action. They'd kissed before, but her prince had never been this bold.

"Steady, little princess," Dante purred in her ear. "You don't want the boat to tip."

So she sat still, watching his eyes and feeling his hand explore her breast, stroking and squeezing, tickling and pinching the already erect nipple. She began pressing into his hand, enjoying the sensation more and more.

Dante reached in and kissed her, his tongue caressing hers, his lips locking hers tightly. Angelina gave herself over to the kiss, closing her eyes and returning it fully.

This kiss, so deep and sensual, sealed it for her – Prince Dante loved her. It proved to her, more than anything before, that he had chosen her on that first night, not just for play, but to be his consort, his life's partner.

She sighed into his mouth, opened her knees at his touch and a hand, already under her skirts, slid up between her thighs, stopping only when it reached the rapidly dampening fabric of her underwear. His fingers slid beneath silky material and went exploring, seeking the source of the moisture as well as the button to produce more.

Angelina moaned softly, focussed totally on the sensations sparking from her breast and her clit to meet deep in her belly, churning and tingling. To hell with the ball! 

Dante watched her drift under his spell, a smile flittering across his face, but not reaching his eyes. They remained cold and calculating. His expert fingers played her like an instrument, strung progressively tighter. She didn't notice as he shifted his weight, moving his face away from hers. 

It was the second set of hands gripping her shoulders that got her attention. 

"Who's there?" Her eyes flew open and she would've sprung to her feet had the hands not held her firmly in position. Her heart pounded wildly, all thought of the pleasure she had been enjoying gone.

There was no one else there. Only Dante, his smile wide and devilish, he almost chuckled at Angelina's shocked expression.

"What is it, little princess?"

"There was someone else here. They touched me – they..." her voice trailed off and her eyes opened wider as she visually registered Dante's hands on her shoulders. She could still feel his hands elsewhere. Fighting panic, she swung away from him. The phantom hands on her breast and between her legs followed, never missing a beat in their caress. She batted at them, arms flailing. The boat rocked wildly, water splashing over the sides.

"Hey, it's OK." Dante held his princess steady, crooning in her ear, using his voice to calm her enough to listen. "Hey, hey, shhh. Listen to me. It's my hands. It's all right."

He steered her to the bow seat and settled her there, still holding her, but gently. He tilted her face and locked her panicked gaze with his: calm, steady and totally in control.

"You know this place is magical – I borrowed some of the magic. Tonight, no matter who you dance with, where you are, what else you do, I'll be with you." His eyes glinted wolfishly. "All night, you'll be in my hands."

A different kind of shock shivered through Angelina. Relief, anticipation and a little exhilaration washed away the panicked fear. "You're doing this?"

"Yes. Do you like it?" The hand on her breast squeezed tightly.

"Ooh, yes. I like it. Can you feel this too?"

"Of course. Where would be the fun if I couldn't?"

"Will anyone else know?"

"That, little princess, will depend totally on you." He hid a smile. "It would be better if they didn't. I could get into trouble. Now, we should head in to the others."

She looked up in surprise. The boat, unaided, had drifted to the dock on the far side of the lake, the castle ballroom glittered and sparkled before them and the sounds of the orchestra filtered down to her ears.

Dante stood, one foot in the boat, one on the dock and offered her his hand. She stood gracefully and stepped onto the dock, only to stumble and gasp as the unseen hand between her legs clenched, squeezing her mound and sliding a finger across the wet opening.

He nimbly left the boat and stood in front of Angelina, holding her upright, then leaned forward and deftly eased her untouched breast from the bodice of her gown, kissing and licking the nipple and replacing it in her gown.

The touch lingered, joining the sensation of his hands.

Before she could say a word he turned, took her arm and led her into the ballroom.

***

Dante watched across the room as Angelina danced. It was deliciously cruel seeing her forced composure, her occasional missed step as he played her body with his mind.

He had taken the first couple of dances with her upon their arrival and had allowed her some respite from his ministrations, merely cupping and holding her. He gradually felt her relax against his phantom caress, becoming accustomed to it, as if it were just another part of her attire.

So he let her loose, to dance with the other noblemen while he stood at the side of the room and watched, letting his mind do the work, stoking desire and increasing discomfit. 

First he thought of his mouth kissing her breast, grabbing the nipple in his teeth and tweaking it. He clearly heard her gasp across the room. Perhaps not, but he had certainly not imagined the change in her expression, nor the stumble in her pirouette.   

Gradually he increased his magical interference. Before long he could clearly see the outline of her erect nipples through the fabric of her dress. And this time he wasn't imagining it. 

Nor did he later imagine the flush that crept up her cheeks or the way her eyes began to seek him out, regardless of her dancing partner. But each time she had tried to seek him out, another dance had begun and she was whisked away again.

Near the end of the night, Angelina finally left the dance floor and made her way across the room to Dante, who stood with glass of punch in hand, waiting. His mind embraced both her breasts, sucking and kneading, and he could clearly see the results of his attention in the tense expression on her face and the strain of her chest against the bodice of her gown.

His eyes glittered as he waited for the perfect moment – when she was in the open, away from any other person. Now he concentrated on her pussy. His mind's hand was slippery and hot with her juices. He clenched, squeezing her mound, one finger slipping deep into her pussy. 

Angelina cried out, stumbling as the unexpected sensation almost undid her. Fire raced through her as the phantom fingers worked, circling and teasing her clit, before plunging deep into her again. 

Dante was by her side in an instant. To onlookers he appeared to be supporting a faint Angelina, leading her outside to fresh air.

Away from prying eyes, he released her, pushing her from him as she desperately leaned into him, her knees turning traitor as she sought greater access for the phantom between her legs. But the phantom fingers continued probing, the grip on her nipples from fingers and teeth tightened.

"Oh Dante, please. I'm so close, make me cum. I need it." Her eyes were closed, her mouth open and each breath became a little moan as she humped Dante's magical touch.  

Abruptly the phantom motions ceased, her nipples still pinched tight, a finger buried within her.

"Control yourself," Dante hissed. "You're making a spectacle. Others will notice."

He watched in grim satisfaction as Angelina opened her eyes and stood as straight as she could, dragging herself back from the edge, her chest still heaving, her face now heavily flushed.

"Come," Dante led her back to the glittering ballroom. "It is time for the last dance. We must put on a good show." 

"Please, can't we stay outside? No one will see," Angelina begged, barely under control, knowing a dance was near impossible in her present condition.

Dante ignored her, pulling her onto the dance floor and holding her close as the last waltz began. His mouth descended over hers and his hands cupped and supported as the phantom hands again came to life, causing her knees to loosen again. She moaned deeply into his mouth as the finger steadily stroked in and out of her, rubbing across her clit on each stroke.

"Keep dancing, little princess," Dante whispered. "Remember where you are. We must keep this secret, no one must know."

Angelina struggled to obey, closing her eyes, forcing herself to concentrate on the music as a second finger joined the first, stroking in and out in time with the waltz, torturing her with the slow steady beat.

"Does it feel good? My fingers inside you?" His deep voice tickled her ear and seemed to flow down her spine. "Do you like it that I keep time?"

She trembled against him. "Please, Dante."

"One." His fingers pulled out of her now sopping wet pussy.

"Two, three." They circled and tickled her aching clit.

"Four." The fingers drove hard into her again.

Her cry was lost again in his mouth.

"Keep dancing, baby, that's it. One, two, three, four; one, two, three, four. Don't stop now, nearly over. One, two, three, four."

The orchestra wound down the dance, slowing the tempo. Dante's magic fingers slowed too, until the song ended and the feel of his mouth and fingers faded away with the last note of music.

"We must get to the boat," Dante seemed totally matter of fact.

"No!" You can't! Oh God Dante, please, fuck me now!" Angelina was aching and empty, soaking wet and desperate for release.

"We can't, little princess. There's no time left."

Dante took her hand and led her to the boats, lined up and waiting for her and her sisters. He helped her into the bow seat and stood back.

"You're not even taking me back?" Angelina was bereft.

"Not tonight, little princess. My squire will see you safe across."

He pushed the boat away from the dock and turned abruptly hiding the smile from her as he strode into the darkness, his hand already moving to relieve his own ache as he reviewed her distress.

Tomorrow should be even more fun.

Thank you for reading this first instalment in Angelina's adventure. If you enjoyed it, please take the time to read the tales of the other princesses in this chain. And, please, take a moment to vote and, perhaps leave a comment.



Enchanted Twelve: Angelina Ch. 02



The beauty of the lake was soothing to Angelina's frazzled nerves. She'd been cranky and out of sorts the entire day, snapping at her sisters and unable to concentrate on even the simplest of needlework. An afternoon nap had helped ease some of the tiredness, but her waking hours had been filled with lusty urges that she had been unable to control, appease or even totally comprehend.

Finally night had fallen and her dream prince had returned, to row her across the lake to the glittering castle in the distance. If only all her dreams were this nice.

Dante studied his princess as he rowed. The dark circles under her eyes were clearly visible against the slightly paler than usual skin tone, the stress obvious in her face and the way she held herself. He smiled secretly, knowing it was the result of his handiwork.

He had enjoyed last night immensely and had no intentions of losing the game so soon. He'd carefully laid the ground work for weeks to reach this point. Now the fun could truly begin.

So he watched intently, waiting for her night memory to return, not wanting to give her too much thinking time. As Angelina's blank expression turned to bewildered hurt, he internally cheered, but carefully kept his face neutral.

"Why?" She was almost in tears. "Why didn't you–"

Her voice caught in her throat and her eyes snapped wide as Dante's invisible hand seized her between the legs. 

"It doesn't matter, little princess. We're together now." His magical fingers were tickling and teasing her as he rowed, his eyes never leaving her face.

Angelina struggled to maintain her composure. "But it ... it does matter. You...just walked away."

"Do you think I wanted to leave you? It was all I could do to keep my hands off you and then we wouldn't have got you back to the other side in time." He let his gaze fall to the bottom of the boat, stilled his magic fingers but kept them cupping her. "I stuffed up. I thought we'd have more time before you had to go back. Now you hate me, don't you?" He dramatically slumped his shoulders, let the oars go slack in the water and withdrew his invisible hand.

"No! Oh, Dante! Of course I don't hate you!"

It was lucky for both of them that Dante had anticipated this response or Angelina's wild leap at him would have resulted in them both going in the water. As it was, the boat rocked wildly and shipped enough water to slop around their feet.

"I love you. I love you, don't say things like that!" She kissed him hard and fast on the mouth between exclamations. "I'm sorry, Dante. I thought...I don't know what I thought."

The pent up emotion of the past twenty-four hours spilled over and Angelina burst into tears, covering her face with her hands.

Dante cradled the sobbing princess, then settled her back in her seat and retook control of the boat, rowing steadily to shore, some distance from the castle but still within the manicured gardens surrounding it. 

He ran the boat up onto a small beach and helped Angelina ashore, miraculously remaining dry, whereas her slippers and the hem of her dress were sodden from the water sloshing about in the boat. She didn't notice, still trying to get her emotions back in order. Dante led her away from the lake and onto a path that meandered through the gardens from the castle to a small stone cottage. 

Angelina was almost back in control, furiously dashing away the tears and wiping her face, wanting to appear fine by the time they arrived at the ballroom. She looked gratefully at Dante; it was so thoughtful of him to bring them to shore away from the main dock, giving her more time and a walk to calm herself.

Dante hesitated on the path, looking toward the silent, dark cottage. He had planned to go straight there tonight, but perhaps it would be better to delay a while. 

He turned away from the cottage, a firm arm steering Angelina in the right direction. A dance or two should settle things, calm the princess and would only postpone his plans a short time. He smiled behind her back – anticipation adding a sweet ache he hadn't considered. Indeed, combining his plans seemed like it would work to his ultimate advantage and total enjoyment.

By the time they reached the castle, Angelina's gown had mostly dried, the damp hemline looking merely like a darker accent. Her slippers no longer squelched, but they were discoloured and misshaped.

They danced, twirling around the dance floor, arm in arm in perfect synchrony. Angelina floated around the room, lost in the feel of Dante's strong arms guiding her.

She sighed, content in Dante's arms, and just a little excited. The memories of last night sparked a warmth within her. She wanted to feel those hands again, this time with her prince visible and attached to those deliciously devious fingers.

She didn't see the signals that flickered between him and a couple of flashily dressed noblemen who lounged around the room, watching the action on the dance floor with lazy, bored expressions. She did not see those dandies nod to Dante, their expressions coming to life as they melted into the night. She was caught in the sheer joy of being in the arms of her gorgeous partner.

The orchestra began playing a number from the previous night, a not uncommon occurrence. Some dances were far more popular than others and so their music was heard more frequently. But Angelina blushed as it began, reminding her of the previous night's dance – in the arms of a relative stranger, with Dante's invisible presence, his fingers magically toying with her as she struggled to remain calm and in control, her partner oblivious to her growing excitement.

Dante held her a little closer as he felt her change in mood and posture, concentrating on keeping his touch feather soft, almost undetectable. His magical breath flickered across Angelina's nipples, his invisible fingers teased her skin, barely touching it. He watched the flush spread across her delicate skin as he spun her around the room, to the tune from the night before – his special request.

As the dance wound down and Dante leaned in close to kiss her, suggesting softly that they find somewhere more private to continue their evening's entertainment and lightly, invisibly, licking her nipple, Angelina was more than ready to agree.

They left the ballroom, Dante allowing Angelina to lead him from the room into the cool night. Again the smile drifted onto his face as he imagined the feel of her arse in his hands. Her accompanying gasp turned the smile into a full grin, which quickly disappeared as she turned to face him.

"Don't, Dante. Please, someone will see."

"Not if you don't react. There's nothing to see, remember? It's magic." His eyes glinted, watching her jaw clench as he let his fingers explore.

"I can't keep this up, Dante. It's...oh god..." She stumbled against him, composure faltering as the fingers teased across her mound and tickled around her now wet entrance. 

Dante put an arm around her, leading her off the balcony and into the garden, retracing their steps on arrival. "I know just the place."

***

Her relief at getting out of sight was such that Angelina barely registered the light in the cottage windows. She just wanted to get inside, where she no longer had to try and pretend, where she could give herself over to the delicious sensations once again boiling within her.

Dante did notice, and again smiled. He had chosen his companions well, it seemed.

Or not. The magic died in his fingers as he ushered Angelina into the room, spying the cheery fire, the thick, shaggy white rug, the ice bucket, bottle of champagne and chilled glasses, the pile of gaily coloured cushions, the candles scattered around the room.

Damn! Could it be any more cliché? Not even Angelina would fall for this sappy display. He steeled himself for a smacked face, a tirade and a lonely, frustrated walk back to the castle. At least it wasn't a blasted bear skin – probably only because they couldn't find one at short notice. Idiots! They'd ruined everything he'd been working so patiently towards.

The softest inhalation drew his attention back to the princess. Surely not? She couldn't, could she?

Angelina was transfixed. It was beautiful, magical – the firelight flickering on the walls, reflections sparkling off the wine glasses, the luxurious rug just begging to be laid on. 

"Oh Dante," the firelight made her eyes sparkle at him. "It's perfect. Did you do this?"

Be damned! She really had fallen for it! "Well, I had to make up for yesterday somehow." He tried to look vaguely sheepish. It seemed to work.

"No, you didn't. I was just silly. I should've known you weren't the 'wham bam thank you ma'am' type. A man like that couldn't have organised anything so beautiful and romantic."

He stifled a snort and watched, amused, as she tried to sit comfortably on the rug in her evening gown, piling up the cushions and then rearranging them again and again. He didn't offer assistance, instead busying himself with stoking the fire and giving a silent thumbs-up to the two faces that peered around the door from the second room.

When he turned to her, Angelina was perched awkwardly on a stack of cushions that threatened to topple at any moment. Her gown bunched and rumpled under her and she had one foot hooked in the underskirts.

"Wouldn't you be more comfortable out of that dress, little princess?" He managed to suppress a smirk. "I don't think it's designed for casual fire-side wear."

To emphasise the point, he magically ran one hand up the inside of her leg. Angelina squeaked and overbalanced, sprawling across the rug. Dante grinned down at her. "See?"

His hand cupped her, one finger exploring, tickling and probing. The other phantom hand slid over her belly and up, to tickle and pinch one nipple as an invisible tongue began playing with the other.

Dante leaned against the mantel as his mind toyed with the princess. Now in private, away from the crowded ballroom, she made no attempt to hide her enjoyment, closing her eyes and floating along on the waves of pleasure he was producing.

He watched, unmoving as Angelina gradually gave herself totally to the sensations, his face calculating. When her hips began to rise and fall, humping against his invisible fingers, he smiled and stilled his hand, pushing away from the mantel to squat beside her. She moaned in frustration, opening her eyes to protest.

"Listen, little princess. I have a game to play. I cover your eyes and we see if you can tell which is me and which is my magic. What do you think? Worth a try?" He dangled a blindfold in front of her.

Angelina frowned, trying to understand, her mind still caught up in the sensations. Then it dawned on her – his hands, his mouth and his magic hands and mouth!

"Oh, yes! That sounds wonderful." She almost threw herself at the blindfold.

"Thought you'd like it." Dante chuckled. "Stand up."

He grabbed the front of the gown and stood up, bringing Angelina to her feet with him and tearing the gown from breast to navel and dragging it down to the floor, taking her underclothes with it. He pushed her sideways, so she stepped out of the pile of material and spun her around, whipping the blindfold over her head an across her eyes, binding it tightly and pushing her back to the floor.

Angelina didn't have time to assimilate all that had happened before she once again felt the delicious sensations of his fingers caressing and playing with her body. Two hands were fondling her breasts and a mouth was kissing and licking from her ear to her collarbone. 

Again, Dante stood back and watched, one eye on her, one on the two men in the doorway of the other room. Once he was sure she was rapt in the sensations bubbling through her, he nodded and waited for them to undress before beckoning them forward, signally them to remain as quiet as possible. 

Dante steadied himself. Now was not the time for nerves. Arturo and Felipe had paid handsomely for this opportunity. They wouldn't do anything to jeopardise a successful outcome. He had no such worries for Angelina. If this went right, and there was no reason it shouldn't, she wouldn't even know.

He pointed to Arturo, then the princess. Arturo knelt beside her, still watching Dante, who mimed two hands kneading breasts. Arturo held his hands over Angelina's breasts, ready to mimic, and, as Dante mimed moving his hands away, he lowered them to take over the action from Dante's phantom fingers.

The men watched Angelina intently – would she notice the switch? 

She moaned and pressed her chest harder against Arturo's fingers. Success! 

Now Dante nodded Felipe forward. He made kissing and licking motions and pointed to the base of his right ear, counting down with his fingers – three, two, one. Felipe kissed Angelina, tickling along the edge of her chin with his tongue and around until he reached her mouth. She met his lips with hers and passionately joined the kiss.

Dante leaned back against the mantel, his posture loose, bored even. His blazing eyes told a different story as he watched his two companions. 

Arturo slid his hands away from her breasts and across her belly to her sex. Felipe's hands took his place. He teased her with his kisses and hands to a high kneeling position, giving Arturo greater access, then broke the kiss.

Angelina rolled her hips to better ride the fingers she felt sliding into her pussy. She gasped as they drove in hard. Something hard and hot pushed past her lips and into her mouth. This had to be real – Dante had never touched her with his cock before, so it couldn't be magic. She sucked eagerly on it, twirling her tongue around it. The hands left her breasts and one held the back of her head as the cock drove deeper into her mouth, hitting the back of her throat and making her gag. 

It pulled back a little, letting her breathe. She brought up a hand to grasp the base of it, kneading his balls and giving her greater control over the depth of his thrusts. His cock was thick, forcing her jaws wide, making breathing difficult even without hitting her throat. But it was Dante, her love, so she didn't fight against it, she forced herself to keep sucking and tickling and swirling with her tongue, squeezing her fingers around the base of it.

Felipe bit back a groan. He knew he had to remain silent or she'd realise he wasn't Dante. He wanted this to go on forever but he knew he couldn't last. Just knowing it was a princess on her knees for him was a powerful turn on. 

Angelina gasped around the cock. His fingers in her pussy were still pumping steadily in and out, but now he was sucking her clit into his mouth, tickling with his tongue, bringing her ever closer to orgasm. She wanted to sit down on his face, drive those fingers deeper into her, anything to add that little extra. But she couldn't. His cock in her mouth and his hand on the back of her head held her in place. She humped her hips as much as she could, just a little more...

Arturo felt the flutter in her pussy and pulled his fingers out, letting go of her clit – Dante's orders: she must not come. Not yet. She screamed in frustration, her hand diving to fill the void. She had to come! A hand grasped her wrist, preventing her from playing with herself. A deep moan tickled Felipe's cock, pushing him over the edge and he thrust forward convulsively, his cock driving down her throat as he came.

She choked and gagged, come dribbling out of her mouth and down her chest as Felipe withdrew and she fell forward onto her hands and knees. Felipe staggered back on wobbly legs to collapse, panting, on the edge of the rug.

Now Dante moved forward, taking hold of her wrists, holding her hands together and rocking her back onto her heels. "No playing with yourself, little princess," he whispered in her ear. "That's cheating. Have patience. You won't be disappointed, I promise." 

Winking at Arturo, he held her hands over her head, forcing her to rise up on her knees again. "I hope you're ready for more. You're good at that."

"More? You mean already?" Angelina had never heard of a man who recovered so fast. But Dante wasn't just any man. "If you're ready, my prince, I certainly won't keep you waiting."

"Good girl." Dante smiled, Arturo moved in and Dante released her hands, stepping back to lean on the mantel again. 

Sensing the man before her, Angelina reached forward, brushing Arturo's thigh and sliding her hand up to grab the rigid cock that jutted out towards her face. It was strange - it didn't feel quite the same as last time, not as ridged and not quite as thick. It must just be that she had gotten used to the size, but it certainly seemed different and it tasted slightly different too.

Then it hit her and she smiled at the thought – this must be his magical cock, the invisible one. That's how he got ready so fast and that's why it seemed different. She really could tell the difference between real and magical.

How odd she must look, loving an invisible cock. She imagined Dante sitting back watching as she teased and tickled around the knob, slurping up and down on the invisible shaft, squeezing her fingers around the base of it, milking it and the balls below.

The thought of Dante watching her suck an invisible cock turned her on immensely. She desperately wanted to play with herself, but he had said no. She wriggled, trying to rub the tops of her thighs together, but they were too far apart. She moaned onto the invisible cock, surprised at how it muffled her sounds.

That muffled moan did for Arturo. He pulled out of her mouth and pumped his cock once before spurting all over her chest, the white goo running down between her breasts.

Now Dante moved forward again. This was the most important moment, even if he was vaguely revolted by the look of the princess, covered in two other men's sperm, panting and moaning in sexual need. He hadn't expected to feel that. He hadn't expected to feel anything. This was a business transaction. He was puzzled at his anger while watching his friends using the princess. 

He forced his mind to focus, bringing a magical hand to play, stroking across Angelina's clit, the other hand pushing her backward, to lie on the rug. She moaned, arching her back and trying to hump onto his hand, totally focussed on her need for release. Dante signalled Felipe and Arturo, who quickly and quietly returned to the second room, got dressed and slipped out the door.

"Oh god, please Dante. Finish me." Angelina was grinding her pussy against Dante's phantom fingers, her own fingers digging into the rug, clutching it as she desperately sought to ease the aching need within her.

His lip curling in distaste, Dante used his mind, roughly jamming two fingers into her, fucking her with them while his thumb ground on her clit. She bucked and ground back at his hand, moaning and crying, sucking his fingers in as deep as she could.

To Dante it seemed to take forever, but it was mere seconds before she bucked hard, let out a long moan and her mind floated off as her body twitched and her pussy clenched around his fingers. 

She came back to Dante pulling off the blindfold and throwing her clothes at her. "Get dressed."

"Dante, what's wrong?"

"Nothing. We're out of time again. Get dressed."

He turned away as she pulled on her underclothes and the ruined ball gown, offering no assistance. He was already out the door as she put on her slippers and ran to follow him.

Scurrying after him to the dock, Angelina wracked her brain, trying to figure what had gone wrong. But it evaded her. 

In the boat, Dante rowed steadily, his mind whirling. He had intended to end this night inside her – let his friends play with her then take what was his, dumping her back on shore with come running down her legs as well as her chest.




Enchanted Twelve: Angelina Ch. 02



What the hell had gone wrong?

Thank you for reading this second instalment in Angelina's adventure. If you enjoyed it, please take the time to read the other authors' tales of her sister princesses in this chain. 

And, please, take a moment to vote and, perhaps leave a comment. 



Enchanted Twelve: Angelina Ch. 03



Dante watched Angelina glide across the dance floor. Without his interference she really was the most elegant and graceful woman present. And he didn't interfere – either physically or magically – but he did watch, his anger growing with every smiles, every touch, every glance at her partner.

Since the dour boat ride across the lake Angelina had made her decision – she would enjoy herself, regardless of Dante's mood. He had barely touched her, only offering his hand for balance as she stepped into the boat, he had not spoken a word and had refused to look at her on the trip across, keeping his eyes steadfastly on the boards beneath her feet, his expression grim.

At first she tried to draw him out, discover what had turned his usually exuberant mood sour. Then she recalled how the wonderful, magical events in the cottage had changed him. How the trip back across the lake last night had been almost a carbon copy of this journey – silent, grim and foreboding.

When they reached the castle dock and Dante still hadn't acknowledged her efforts, Angelina gave up. If he wanted to be a beast, fine, but he'd need to try a lot harder to ruin her fun tonight.

She took his grimly offered hand and stepped onto the dock, swept straight past him  and on to enter the glittering ballroom alone. The solitude lasted only long enough for the single men to realise she was without a partner. Her dance card was well covered and she was on the floor by the time Dante arrived.

As she danced with various noblemen, she kept hoping Dante would cut in, that his dark mood would lift and he would join the fun. She stole glances his way whenever she neared that section of the floor, but he steadfastly avoided her gaze, seeming engrossed in conversation. Occasionally he would move and she would search the room as she danced until she spied him again, hoping he was preparing to join her magically, if not physically. He never did.

Eventually she stopped looking for him, stopped expecting to feel him and began concentrating purely on having fun with whoever her partner of the moment might be. 

And now she danced with a young lord named Arturo. He was full of fun and a bit of a tease, making her laugh with the slightly rude comments he whispered in her ear about other dancers. By the end of the dance, she was gasping, trying to hold in her laughter. Arturo escorted her to her next dance partner, another young lord named Felipe.

She chattered and laughed with the two young men, who jokingly referred to themselves as "two-thirds of the musketeers". Dante, of course, was the absent third. They were lifelong friends, their fathers the most senior Dukes and frequent advisors at Dante's father's court. Angelina had more than happily accepted the invitations of his best friends to dance the night away – they knew she had come with Dante, even if they hadn't walked in together, so there could be no misunderstanding with him as to their intentions.

Once on the dance floor, Felipe became more serious, concentrating on leading her gracefully in a waltz. It was a dance Angelina loved and Felipe seemed made for it as well. They dipped and twirled around the room, Felipe effortlessly guiding them between the other couples, their feet in perfect synchronisation as they danced through the crowd and out onto the balcony. Felipe drew her in close and kissed her, whispered "you're far too good for him" in her ear and continued to dance her along the balcony and through another door, back into the ballroom in time for a tight flourishing whirl in the middle of the floor as the dance ended.

Angelina drew away, confusion driving her to seek out Dante. But he was nowhere to be seen, and nor was Arturo. Felipe gently took her hand. "I must speak with you."

He led her, first to the punch bowl and then, tracing their earlier steps, to the still deserted balcony. 

"Felipe, this is –." Pressing a finger to her lips, Felipe stopped Angelina mid sentence.

"Don't say a word – please, just listen." 

He took her hands in his and looked at the ground, seeking courage to say what he must, then sighed, bit his lip and looked directly into her eyes.

"I know he's my best friend, but I can't let this go on. Dante is a player, and he's playing you for a fool. It's all a game to him."

Angelina pulled her hands away. "No. You're wrong. He loves me. Why else would he take the risk..." She stopped, eyes wide – how close she had come to giving away the secret of his borrowed magic.

"Risk? What risk? What the hell has he been telling you?"

"Nothing. Forget I said anything. I didn't mean it." She turned her face to his beseechingly. "He could get into big trouble. Please, Felipe, don't ask."

Felipe snorted, unable to rein in his exasperation. "Is that what he said? Is that how he got you to put up with being magically manhandled all over the dance floor? Oh God, Angelina. That's all part of the game – he gets a girl interested in him and then sees how far he can push her with his magic tricks. He even takes bets on it."

Angelina paled and stumbled back, leaning against the stone railing. "His magic? He didn't borrow it? He takes bets?" She stared blankly at Felipe, thinking over the time she had spent with Dante. 

It couldn't be true. Not after last night, the beautifully romantic room he had set up for their first real sex – no furtive groping in the bushes. Suddenly it hit her why Dante was so distant tonight: they still hadn't had proper sex together. Time always ran out on them. He was frustrated with the constraints on their time together. He was staying away from her so he didn't get her all worked up again and then disappoint her, like he had two nights ago.  

"No. It's not true. Even if he used to do that, he doesn't now. Not with me. He loves me. He proved it."

"Who proved what, Little Princess?"

Felipe spun to face the voice. Dante stood behind them, leaning against the wall, a lazy smile on his face, his eyes glittering darkly. How much had he heard?

Angelina started and stepped forward, smiling. "Dante!"

He took her in his arms. "So, don't hold me in suspense – who proved what?"

"You proved you loved me, my prince." Angelina snuggled into Dante's chest, resting her head on his shoulder. She felt him stiffen as he turned to Felipe but his tone was light.

"Interesting that you should need that assurance, my friend. But, of course, it was Angelina reassuring herself in light of my churlish attitude tonight. Now that I have remembered where I should be, I'll let you return to your carousing."

Felipe hesitated. He had been dismissed but was far from ready to leave. Seeing Angelina's adoring eyes firmly fixed on Dante's chiselled features, he realised there was nothing to be gained here. She was not ready to listen. Stepping forward, he took Angelina's hand lightly in his and lowered his lips to it.

"If you ever need a dance partner, dear Princess, you know where to find me." Nodding to Dante, he turned and left.

"So, Little Princess, what was that all about?"

"Oh, Dante, I don't know. He seemed so nice, dancing with me and all and then he just got all funny. He said you were playing with me and betting on it and ... oh I don't know. All kinds of mean things. You came up just as I was telling him he was wrong."

Dante's eyes darkened as she spoke. Damn Felipe and his soft heart. He should've dropped Felipe from the plan as soon as he realised the fool was carrying a torch for her. But he'd soon fix that.

"He's jealous of you, that's why he said those things. He wants to hurt you. See, the three of us – Felipe, Arturo and me – used to get up to all kinds of stuff together, and he kinda worships me. But now I'm spending all my evenings with you, he feels left out."

Angelina searched his face for the truth. "Yes, they told me – 'The Three Musketeers'. You don't miss larking with them, do you?"

"Why would I want to be with those two when I could have you?" 

Dante leaned down and nuzzled around Angelina's neck, tilting her head up and kissing her hard on the mouth as he crushed her body to his. "I want you," he huffed, kissing a hot line up her check and back to her mouth again and running one hand through her hair as the other massaged her back and arse, pulling her still closer to him, crushing her breasts against his chest and her arms to her sides. She could feel his hardness jammed against her stomach.

He forced her back into the darkness and against the balcony rail, his mouth still crushed against hers, his hand now up under her skirt and sliding up her thigh.

Angelina's eyes grew wide as he forced his knee between hers, his hand shoving her skirt up and pushing aside her underwear. She felt him fumbling with his own clothing. She'd wanted him for so long, but not like this!

Struggling, she managed to free one arm and pushed against him, desperate to get him to see reason. "Dante, please! No! Not here! I'm not ready!"

"Sure you are." Dante shoved his hand back between her legs, tearing her underwear and roughly rubbing her clit and jamming a finger inside her. "You feel ready to me."

It wasn't true. She was a little excited; had been most of the evening. She had thought about fucking Dante all evening, hoping they would go to the beautiful cottage again, get naked and lie together on the rug in front of the fire and make gentle love, exploring each other's bodies in the flickering firelight. But the thought of doing it here, where anyone could stumble upon them made her arousal shrivel up and die. 

"Not here, Dante, please! If anyone comes out here they'll see. Take me back to the cottage, like last night."

"No time. Not risking missing out again." He pushed her up onto the railing, the small of her back ground against the stone edge. Now she felt his cock slam against her sex, seeking the entrance, but jamming her clit against the bone instead. She jumped away, gasping, her arse coming to land on the railing and he drove in again, using his hand to guide his thrust.

Angelina grunted as Dante thrust deep and hard, knocking the wind out of her, forcing her feet off the ground. She was suspended on the railing and his cock as he continued thrusting hard and fast into her, forcing little grunts from her on each up stroke. 

She tried to keep quiet, in case anyone overheard them. She tried to enjoy it, reminding herself this was her love and he was only acting this way out of frustration, he needed it. Then he started to speak, punctuating his words with deep thrusts.

"I've been waiting for this. Been saving up, it'll be a good load for you, Little Princess."

He stopped thrusting, holding himself fully inside her, holding her by the shoulders and grinning at her questioning face. "Two weeks, baby. That's a long time to go without."

Dante began moving again, short strokes, easing in and out of her, giving her a chance to mull over what he had said. As the questioning expression dawned, he changed tack. 

Angelina opened her mouth to ask what he meant but gasped instead. Dante leaned forward and eased her breasts free from the low cut dress ad began teasing one nipple with his teeth and the other with his magical teeth. With both hands holding her hips, he changed his thrust pattern, pulling all the way out and jamming hard back in to the hilt. 

The amazing sensations pushed all questions from Angelina's mind. One mouth was suckling a breast, the other was biting and the long hard fucking was driving her mad. 

Dante abandoned her tits, turning his attention to her soaking sex. Magic was a wonderful thing. He imagined licking her clit, sucking and swirling his tongue around it in time with his cock thrusting deep inside her.

"Come on, scream for me."

Angelina's cries became louder, more frantic as the tension wound tighter within her, the need for release greater and stronger. She no longer cared who heard or saw her, her whole being rested between her legs and the glorious sensations Dante was creating there. Her hands grabbed for him, fingers clawing at his body as he pounded into her.

He felt his balls tighten and the pressure swell just as she screamed and began to twitch. He came hard, deep inside her, the walls of her pussy squeezing him dry.

As soon as his cock stopped pulsing, he withdrew, standing straight and breathing hard. 

"Come on, Little Princess. Straighten yourself up and we can join in for the last dance."

Angelina blinked and then looked at herself. Her dress was hiked up over her waist and the bodice was pulled down so both her breasts were exposed. Quickly she tucked them back into the dress and stood upright, her back complaining bitterly at the rough treatment it had received from the balcony railing.

Her ruined underwear tickled the tops of her thighs as she moved towards the ballroom and she could feel Dante's come running down the inside of her thighs.

In the ballroom they took their places for a progressive waltz. Dante danced well, but seemed distracted, looking around the room and barely acknowledging Angelina's presence.

At the second change of partner, Angelina joined Arturo. "Looks like you've had some fun," he said as she moved into his arms. 

"Whatever do you mean?" Angelina felt herself blush.

"Well, that gown's got wrinkles in places I wouldn't have thought possible, your face is flushed, your hair's tousled and," he paused and leaned in close to her ear, "you smell like a whore."

Angelina was mortified. She could still feel the cum oozing from her and running down her legs. She knew the floor length gown hid it. "You mean, you can smell it?"

Arturo was silent as they performed a spin, but as he released her to her next partner he grinned and spoke: "Yep. And so will every man you dance with."

With each partner she became increasingly aware of her dishevelled appearance, and several partners were obviously aroused by her aroma. She was still trying to think of a way to drop out of the dance without drawing even more attention to herself when she spun into the arms of Felipe.

At first they danced in silence, but as their partnership wound down, Felipe finally broke it. "I think you will regret tonight. And I know he is not what you believe. Look what he's doing to you now." Angelina steadfastly ignored him. As she spun away, he said: "Angelina, Princess: please, if you forget everything else, remember this – I am not your enemy."

The rest of the dance was excruciating. Partners either danced very close, pawing at her and making lewd suggestions or wrinkled their noses in distaste, holding her as far away as possible. She kept looking to Dante. He was oblivious to her troubles, laughing with each partner and obviously flirting with the young and pretty ones.

Finally she spun back into his arms for the final free waltz. 

Without a word, he pulled her close, kissed her hard on the mouth and pulled her breasts out of her dress, in full view of everyone. Then, before she could protest, he led her in a slow spinning twirl around the room, making sure everyone saw her, before taking her out the door and down to the dock.

Once they pulled away from the shore, Dante shipped the oar and moved to sit beside Angelina, putting his hand up her skirt and tracing the line of sticky cum back up her leg. With his other hand he freed his swollen cock from his clothing. 

"Dancing around with your tits out for all to see turned you on as much as it did me, didn't it? Come on, Little Princess, suck it for me."

He pulled her head forward into his lap as he began playing with her cum soaked pussy. He faltered and groaned as she reached for his cock and guided it into her mouth, licking and sucking the head, pumping the shaft with her hand.

She pumped her mouth up and down, cupping and squeezing his balls in her hand, her tongue tickling the hole in the end and lapping up the liquid that oozed from it.

Dante was lost in the moment, revelling in the sensation of finally having Angelina sucking him. But she was puzzled. This cock was different again to either of those she had had the night before. It was neither as thick nor as long as them. And it smelt different.

Maybe that was because he had already had an orgasm tonight. That must be it. She continued to ponder the problem while swirling her tongue around the head, listening to him hitch and gasp as she worked.

She felt his balls contract in her hands and his cock get even harder and her mind replayed his earlier statement: Two weeks. That's a long time to go without.. He gasped and pulled out of her mouth, spattering come all over her face, just as the boat ground against the shore on the far side of the lake.

 Thank you for reading this third instalment in Angelina's adventure. If you enjoyed it, please take the time to read the tales of the other princesses in this chain. And, please, take a moment to vote and, perhaps, leave a comment.




Enchanted Twelve: Ariel Ch. 01



Prince Geoffrey watched the firelight pick up the sparkles in Ariel's long curling tendrils that cascaded down her back. They sat at a long bench table to one end of the hall where the masquerade was being held that night. He reached out one hand and twirled the ends of her hair in his fingers. 

Ariel felt Geoffrey's hands in her hair and looked over her shoulder from the quiet conversation she was having with a distraught young maiden whose suitor had left her to her own devices. She smiled warmly at him and her eyes were steady. She had long since abandoned her mask. It was not in her nature to hide. 

Geoffrey smiled back and she returned to her quiet soothing of the young woman. He wanted her all to himself, but her caring and compassionate nature was part of what drew him to her. She also held an amazing joie de vivre. Though Ariel seemed steady and placid on the surface, Geoffrey had glimpsed the passion that was banked inside. He longed to draw it fully out. 

Geoffrey considered how lucky had been in being matched with Ariel to begin with. It was somewhat of a comedy of errors. He had not realized the mistake for some time. The men and women had stood on the bank with the boats, milling about and pairing up that first night. He had spotted an impossibly lovely young woman with long curling blond hair and started talking with her. She had seemed more than warm and willing, touching his arm and smiling up at him. His servant had called him away for a minute, needing further instructions. He had rushed back as quickly as possible as the night drew in on them and laughingly took her hand to draw her down to a boat. She had seemed flustered but he took that as all part of the fun. 

It wasn't until later, when he had referred to some rather suggestive comment she had made during their conversation on the bank and she had looked confused that they began to comprehend the mistake that had been made. Ariel explained in a rather chilly manner that he must have been talking with her twin sister Aurelia. 

Geoffrey had been filled with consternation over his mistake. Aurelia had seemed very warm and willing where her sister, Ariel, was more quiet and reserved. As the evening drew on though, he found himself charmed by her caring and compassionate nature. Over the past two weeks he had found himself falling under her spell completely. Her steady gaze seemed to penetrate his facade of gaiety and drew him in, holding him captive. 

Now, as his hand toyed with the tendrils of her hair, he touched the warm curve of her back through her dress and found himself becoming aroused. He longed to pull her into his arms and nuzzle his face into the side of her neck, breathing in the fragrance of her hair, his hands cupping and measuring the warm weight of her bosom. 

Geoffrey shuddered and stood. When Ariel looked up at him, he smiled back reassuringly. "I'm just going to take in some air." 

She nodded and he walked out into the gardens, with their high hedges and mazes. Geoffrey had held himself in check these past two weeks. Ariel was luscious but she was chaste and he knew he couldn't press her for the sexual release his body craved. It was maddening at times. He found himself alone in a dark corner of the garden and unlaced his braces, releasing his hardened manhood. 

He thought of Ariel as he stroked the burning staff in his hand. Her long soft hair, the graceful curve of her long white neck and her lily white soft hands. Oh, to have her hands around his shaft! His cock was slick now with his pre-cum as he rapidly pumped it through his fist. Perhaps even her mouth on his shaft. Picturing her lips wrapped around his manhood sent him over the edge. He grunted as his seed shot out.

Unobserved, Ariel stood a little bit away, just able to make out his form and actions in the moonlight. She bit her lip. She had followed him out, unwilling to be so far from him. She knew she should turn away, make a noise to let him know she was there or simply walk away and pretend she had never seen it, but she was fascinated and excited by what she saw. 

She knew men had needs. Truly, she was beginning to realize she had needs of her own. A warmth was growing between her legs. She was torn. What to do? She heard Geoffrey grunt and the tension seemed to ease from his shoulders. He started to re-dress so she quietly slipped away.

Back inside the keep, Geoffrey found Ariel sitting alone where he had left her. Her cheeks were rather bright red. "You shouldn't sit so close to the fire," he admonished her, taking her hand and drawing her away. He thought it odd that she didn't meet his gaze as she normally did in her forthright manner, but she followed him willingly as they made their way out through the woods to the boat.

"Are you alright?" Geoffrey asked as they walked. She was being unusually quiet. 

"Yes, yes, of course," she replied, but still said nothing more. 

As they neared the other side of the water, a thought occurred to him as his concern grew. "You're not feeling ill, are you?"

"No! Truly, I'm fine," she replied. As he helped her out of the boat she blushed in the dark but reached up and pressed her lips to his cheek for longer than she normally would. "I will see you again tonight." 

Geoffrey watched her go, thoughtful. Whatever could be the matter?



Enchanted Twelve: Ariel Ch. 02



Ariel and Geoffrey followed Aurelia and Colin along the path to the castle but at a more leisurely pace. They soon lost sight of the other couple.

Ariel's hand held Geoffrey's arm as they made their way over the uneven ground. The moon lit the path between the trees as if in a silvery line. To either side the woods were a black wall, obscuring the cause of night sounds. Ariel held tightly to Geoffrey and pressed a little closer.

Geoffrey smiled and looked down at Ariel. The top of her blond head shone in the moonlight. His eyes strayed further down to her breasts, glowing above the deep cut of her gown. It occurred to Geoffrey that the dress was showing far more cleavage than Ariel normally did. The idea that it might be for his pleasure stirred Geoffrey physically. He pictured his fingers dipping into the warm softness between her breasts.

"A coin for your thoughts?" Ariel inquired gently, squeezing Geoffrey's arm and turning her head to look up at his shadowed face. 

Geoffrey's mouth twitched. What would she say if he told her what he was really thinking? He wasn't brave enough to find out. He didn't want to risk scaring her off. He placed a hand over hers and squeezed back. "Just how happy I am to be here with you." That was true enough. Ariel stirred feelings in Geoffrey that he had never felt for another woman. He supposed it was love.

Ariel smiled up at this wonderful man she had found. Every moment with him was a blessing to her and she wanted him to know that.

Ariel stopped and Geoffrey halted.

"What is it?" he asked.

Without a sound, Ariel reached up and placed one hand on either side of his face to pull his mouth down to hers. She pressed her lips urgently to his. 

Surprised, Geoffrey did not react at first. He quickly recovered himself and pulled her into his arms. Her lips softened under his. Geoffrey let her take the lead.

Ariel brushed her lips across Geoffrey's once and then again. Her tongue ventured out to run along his lower lip then she sucked on his lip gently. She released his lip and pressed her tongue between into his mouth.

Geoffrey pulled her tighter against his body as her tongue explored. He met her with his own tongue, sliding across hers, curling around and caressing. If this continued, he was going to end up dragging her into the woods and ravishing her right there. Reluctantly, he drew his mouth away from hers, with little parting kisses of regret.

Ariel made a mew of protest but Geoffrey turned his head and simply held her tightly to him.

"You are enough to drive a saint mad, Ariel, and I am no saint."

Ariel smiled against his shoulder. "I do not want you to be a saint."

Geoffrey released his hold on her and pulled away. "I am certainly glad of that." He drew her arm back through his and started up the path again. "We had best get moving. If I deprive your friends of your company any longer, I will surely have to answer for it."

They made their way along the path, companionably silent yet a hunger filling the warm summer air. Whispers of touches exchanged through fingertips on hair and arms as they walked bumping together, reluctant to be separated by the air. 

At the castle, Ariel and Geoffrey were greeted well by their friends, and plied with food and drink. Ariel was whisked away to dance with others between dances with Geoffrey. Finally, she settled near the fire to rest and Geoffrey pressed a kiss to her cheek.

"I am going out to get a little air," he said.

Ariel simply smiled and nodded then watched as he went out the doorway and hopped up, dodging friends to follow him. Outside, she saw his form slipping down into the garden, filled with moonlight and shadows. She followed at a distance, always keeping him in sight. 

In even more urgency than the night before, he found a quiet corner of the garden and unlaced his braces, releasing his hardened manhood. Once again, he thought of Ariel as the rapidly stiffening rod filled his hand. Her long silken hair filled his mind with light, her soft luscious lips under his, and her soft body pressed against his own. Already, fluid leaked from the tip of his cock. He rubbed it down his shaft and pumped it through his hand.

"Oh, Ariel," he moaned softly.

"Let me help you with that," Ariel replied softly, her voice seemingly loud in the quiet of the garden. 

Geoffrey stiffened but Ariel's soft hand reached around him from his right side and slid down his arm to overtake his own hand, gently grasp his rigid manhood. She stroked him as she had seen him do. 

Geoffrey felt an erotic shock surge through his body as she touched him. He had wanted this so badly but he couldn't quite believe it was happening. In his haste tonight, he had not looked for a dark corner and now moonlight streaming down showed him the reality of the situation as Ariel's lily white hand held his cock.

"Tell me what to do to please you," Ariel said.

"Just touch me," Geoffrey said hoarsely. "As you are."

Ariel continued stroking him from balls to the tip of his shaft, gently, slowly. "I have heard that men find it pleasurable when women suck on their manhood. Would you like me to do that?"

Geoffrey pictured Ariel kneeling before him, her blond head shining in the moonlight as her pink lips closed around his shaft. He shuddered and moaned. 

Ariel took this as agreement. She shifted her gentle hold on him as she moved around him and pulled her skirt up with her other hand to sink to her knees in front of him. Ariel looked up at Geoffrey, her gentle eyes luminous with love and desire as she guided the head of his cock through her pink lips and into the hot moist cave of her mouth.

Geoffrey moaned again and squeezed his eyes shut. He wouldn't last long this way. Her fingers wrapped around him as she took him deeply into her mouth. He looked back down and reached out to thread his fingers through her heavy silken hair. His beautiful Ariel. He massaged her scalp with his fingertips as her tongue swirled around the head of his cock. He fought down the urge to thrust into her throat.

Ariel inhaled and took in the salty taste of him. She worked to show him her love and pleasure at touching him with her fingertips and tongue. 

"I am going to come," he murmured. "Drink it down, darling."

He held her head as he pulled back to fill her mouth instead of her throat. As his seed boiled up and poured from his cock into her mouth, Geoffrey watched her swallow again and again. When he was done, he pulled her up and kissed her deeply, tasting himself in her mouth. 

"My beautiful Ariel," he whispered. "There is so much I cannot wait to share with you. So many things I cannot wait to teach you."

"I wish to learn anything you would teach me, my love. I would give you anything you asked." Ariel stared up at him joyously. She did not know what the future would bring but she would do anything to be with this man for as long as it was possible. She wanted to be naked beneath his gaze and hands. She would do anything to bring him pleasure.

Geoffrey's fingertips traced her face in the moonlight. Not only was she a strong and compassionate women, but a passionate one as well. He had never felt so full of joy in his life. He had lusted after women in the past but never felt this before. His heart sank though as he realized it was time to return her across the lake to her own world again.

Ariel giggled as she helped him re-lace his braces. As they finished, Geoffrey grabbed her hands and pulled her to him again. 

"Don't go, stay with me, come with me to my home."

"I can't," Ariel stammered.

"Why not?" he demanded.

"My sisters, my family, I... I can't just disappear. They'll be expecting me."

Geoffrey nodded, he accepted her words but a strange fear gnawed at him. 

As they walked back to the lake he pondered the situation. What if the sisters stopped appearing as quickly as they had once appeared? It was all such a strange thing happening. They needed to figure it out. He could not bear losing her.

Silently they rowed back across the lake. As they neared the other side, he could see that she was moving further and further away from him, without having moved from her seat in the boat. Geoffrey handed her out of the boat and watched as she walked away without a backward glance. 



Enchanted Twelve: Ariel Ch. 03



Geoffrey took Ariel by the hand and led her up the path away from Aurelia and Colin, who clearly had something to work out between the two of them alone.

Ariel clasped Geoffrey's strong hand in both of hers and felt the desire to have him hold her. She stopped. Geoffrey stopped too and looked at her questioningly. Ariel stood on tiptoe to press her lips to Geoffrey's and then smiled up at him. 

Geoffrey smiled back down at the shining visage of his love and reached out with his free hand to run a finger down the side of her face. Feeling the depth of her love for him in his soul, he felt like he could do anything he set his mind to, but tonight his only goal was to pleasure her. 

He turned and led her up the path but when they reached the castle, instead of going in, he led her around the side.

"Where are we going?" Ariel asked. 

"You'll see," he merely responded. 

Geoffrey led Ariel around to the extensive gardens that encircled the castle. Through the labyrinth of kitchen gardens, rose gardens and into the maze of higher bushes and hedges, he wound a way to the back and a very secluded corner of a garden that appeared to no longer be in use. The grasses and flowers had grown in wild abandon, cascading in thick profusions.  

Ariel cried out in delight at the vision before her. A tree had grown so that it's overhanging limbs shielded a bower but the limbs themselves had grown thick with the winding vines of a sweet pink rose. Beneath the overhanging canopy of roses lay a thick blanket surrounded with sconces stuck into the ground to hold candles, illuminating the sanctuary. A multitude of flowers grew to every side. Violets grew beneath bobbing columbine. Bleeding hearts hung over lilies of the valley.  A cloth covered basket sat to one corner of the blanket with a stoppered bottle of liquid and two goblets. 

Geoffrey bowed low and gestured to the blanket with a flourish. "My lady, your private chamber awaits."  

Geoffrey took Ariel's hand as she stepped onto the blanket and lowered herself gracefully to the covered ground. He joined her and uncovered the basket then removed the stopper from the bottle and poured them each a glass of the mulled wine from the castle. 

"A simple meal," Geoffrey said apologetically.

"But the company makes it a feast," Ariel responded, reaching over to pop a grape into his mouth. 

Geoffrey raised his glass to Ariel and she returned the salute. She stared over the rim of the glass as she sipped the mulled wine, thinking how lucky she was to have found him. She supped on the morsels that Geoffrey fed her but afterwards could not have named a single thing she ate, having eyes only for her handsome escort. 

Geoffrey put the detritus of their meal away in the basket and pulled Ariel into his arms for the feast he truly desired. He kissed her deeply, lowering her gently to the blanket. He drew back and looked down, studying her beautiful countenance lovingly.

Lying in Geoffrey's arms, Ariel's gaze was caught to the side as little lights glowed and danced over the tall grasses and flowers beyond the reach of their candles. "How pretty, fireflies!" she exclaimed.

Indeed, the lights did dance and weave like the twinkling fireflies that move over the tall grass of a field, looking like the stars against the midnight sky. However, these lights took singular afront at being compared to mere bugs.

"How dare she compare me to a fly?" proud Titania cried in outrage, alighting on the leaf of a lily nearby. She raised her hand to hurl a curse but Oberon lit beside her and covered her hand with his.

"Nay, my Queen, stay thy hand, there is too much enchantment upon this land. A curse, cast in anger might double back and bring us all to danger." Oberon covered his lady's hand with his and kissed the fist he contained.

Titania looked around. She took in the shimmering glow that covered the land and noted how the thread of it led back to the castle. She gestured to the lights bobbing around herself and Oberon. "Anon, Oberon and I will tarry here awhile, to keep an eye on these mortals who my bower defile." The lights bobbed off into the night. She turned her eye back to the mortals in each other's arms, kissing passionately once again. "They do woo in my bower, I should make them cower." She raised her arm again. 

Oberon once more took the fist in his and kissed it. Knowing his lady as he did, he thought it best to distract her. "Is not the mortal male a pretty sort, and is he not clearly ready for some sport?" 

With a wiggle of his fingers, Oberon caused the lacings that held Geoffrey's pants together to burst as if the swelling in his groin were too much for them. 

Titania giggled and waggled her finger at her King. "How now? What is this? Didst thou not just counsel me to resist?"

Oberon pulled her close into his arms and pressed his lips to her neck. "Would it not be fun, were our own coverings to come undone?" With a slide of his fingers, Oberon freed the rose petal that was wrapped around Titania and tucked in over her breasts. The pair sank down into the fold of the leaf and for a time, they paid no more attention to the mortal couple.

Geoffrey and Ariel were themselves giggling over the burst braces. "Can you not contain yourself?" Ariel teased. 

Geoffrey pulled her close. "With you near me, I fear not." He pressed his lips passionately to hers. 

Geoffrey's hands cupped and squeezed Ariel's breasts through the fabric of her gown causing her to gasp and open her mouth for his plundering tongue. 

Ariel reached into her lover's pants for what she had so enjoyed exploring the evening before and began to caress the length of his shaft, which was filling quite rapidly. Eagerly, she helped Geoffrey to push the pants down and then lustily pushed him back onto the blanket to explore her toy. 

Titania and Oberon recovered themselves sufficiently to check in on the lovers. Titania grinned. "Indeed the mortal man is well endowed within the woman's hand."

Oberon pressed himself to Titania from behind, pinning her wings against her back and reached around to cup her warm breasts in his hands. "Is not the night made for such delicious sport?"

Titania felt Oberon's hard shaft pressing against her from behind. She smiled naughtily over her shoulder. "Indeed this sport doth make me think, we should enjoy such a link." Titania spread her feet and leaned forward, offering herself to her King.

Oberon lustily plunged into his queen from behind and thrust eagerly.

Ariel was just as eager in her pursuit. She knelt over Geoffrey, his throbbing shaft in her small soft hands. She leaned forward, her silken hair falling around her face as she licked and sucked at his shaft. She wished to hear him moan in pleasure as he had done the night before. 

Geoffrey groaned and thrust his fingers into Ariel's hair, reveling in the feel of her hot mouth on his manhood. Regretfully he stilled her and pushed her back. "My love, as wondrous as your ministrations are. I desire to see you disrobe for me even more." He sat up and pressed his lips to Ariel's, his hands already in motion to ease her dress off. 

Ariel helped Geoffrey with her dress then his own clothes and they were soon both disrobed. She caught her breath and moaned as Geoffrey bent to suck one tit into his mouth and swirl his tongue around the hardened nub. She clutched at him and cried out at the unknown pleasure. 

Geoffrey grinned knowingly at the sound of her throaty moans and the feel of her clutching hands. He would take her to the heights of pleasure this night, he told himself. His mouth moved to suckle at the other tit then he spread kisses down her sweet flesh, eager to teach her what pleasure he could bring to her with his tongue. 

Geoffrey's hands gripped Ariel's thighs. "Lie back," he urged her, as he pulled her legs open and positioned himself between them to gain maximum access to her hidden flower, the most beautiful in the garden, to him. Delicately he began to explore with just the tip of his tongue, opening her with his fingers to his probing. 

Ariel breathed deeply, sighing and nearly purring with the pleasure her lover was providing. Pressure seemed to be building in her body. Finally, Geoffrey's lips sought a spot that made her body explode and writhe in ecstasy, like the orange touch-me-not flowers that split and curl in every direction when touched. "Oh, Geoffrey!"

Ariel's passionate cry drew Oberon's attention from his own coupling. With a wiggle of his fingers in their direction, he whispered, "Let reason flee and passion consume, let no idea be too removed, ask anything and grant any request, do not let love resist."

Suddenly, desperate to give the pleasure she was receiving, Ariel struggled up and pushed at Geoffrey. "I need to touch you, taste you," she panted. 

Geoffrey looked up at her from between her legs. His eyes narrowed as he grinned. "Lie back," he growled. He got to his knees and pushed Ariel onto her back then turned to straddle her head and offer her mouth his manhood while he resumed his attention to her soaked nether lips. 

Hungrily, Ariel cupped her lover's erection and licked the pre-cum dripping from it then sucked it into her mouth as far as she could, caressing what she couldn't fit into her mouth. She alternately sucked and licked. Nothing had ever tasted so good to her. Nothing had ever felt so good as what Geoffrey was doing to her.

Geoffrey slid a finger into Ariel's slick core and then two. She was too tight to take three. Adrenaline surged through his body as he thought of burying himself in her tight glove. Primal thoughts of mating surged through his mind. He had to have her now!

He rolled to the side and heard Ariel's cry of disappointment but he surged up and around to straddle her body, pinning her down. Panting, he pressed his lips to hers and reached down to help bring them together. He surged forward, opening her with a single thrust. 

Ariel cried out beneath him but the pain was momentary and the fire surging through her own veins made her dig her fingers into his arms and buck. "Yes! Oh, Yes!" Still riding the tail of her last orgasm, she felt another building as Geoffrey thrust into her, their bodies grinding and writhing together on the blanket.

Geoffrey growled in response as he thrust, pure lust burning through his body with no thought. His own orgasm boiled up through his cock to explode like a volcano into Ariel. He continued to thrust as wave after wave shuddered through him, the spasms of Ariel's own orgasm milking him of his seed.

He collapsed on top of Ariel, his muscles twitching as he panted, the fire finally spent. Their eyes shut as their breathing returned to normal. The couple fell into a deep slumber, wrapped in each other's arms.

His own passion spent and his arms wrapped around his own love as she slumbered, Oberon felt a kinship with the mortal male. "My blessings on thee, mortal man. When you wake, speak your love as freely as you can." Oberon closed his eyes and slept himself.





Enchanted Twelve: Aurelia Ch. 01



Author's Note: There is no sex in this chapter, but I hope the titillation provided in chapters 1 and 2 will carry you through to the climax in chapter 3. 

*

Aurelia smiled up at Prince Colin as they passed in the dance, touching lightly, bobbing the blue feathers of her mask in his direction. He smiled back and inclined his shaggy brown head toward her, the upper part of his face hidden behind a golden mask. Prince Colin was a burly knight with longish brown hair and a beard. He reminded Aurelia sometimes of a stuffed bear she had hugged to pieces as a child. 

She had not been best pleased when she had ended up with him though. She had thought to be paired with the smoothly good-looking genteel man her sister was dancing with. It was a trifle awkward at first. The other man had been flirting outrageously with her then been called away by another and, when Aurelia had turned around, she saw him getting into a boat with her twin sister, Ariel. Which left Aurelia on the shore with only a few princes left. 

When Prince Colin had approached her, she simply sighed and went with him. Now, she knew that it had been just as well. She had since heard the other prince was a true rogue. She likely would not have been able to resist him, but Ariel was safe. She was strong of mind, steady and, most of all, chaste. 

Aurelia could not quite claim the same. Her maidenhead was still intact, but she had been more curious and far less reserved than her twin sister. There had been that skinny-dipping incident with the sheriff's son. Aurelia felt warmth touch her cheeks that had nothing to do with the exertion of the dance. 

She had been a rough and wild child who grew into a wild young woman. The boys she had run with had also grown up and they had been as curious as she. She had touched and teased with some boys, but only ones her age where she could stay in control. She had stayed away from the older men whose eyes appraised her figure as she walked through her father's hall. 

The music ended and Aurelia moved to the edge of the dance floor where Colin found her looking around the spacious keep hall where the masked dance was being held. Huge fireplaces at either end of the room blazed with whole logs and sconces along the walls held oil reserves and wicks that lit the hall. 

"Looking for someone?" Colin asked. 

"My twin sister," she explained, scanning the throng around them. Ariel was wearing a rose-colored dress and mask. 

"Your twin? I did not realize you had a twin?" Colin looked around the room, as if to spy some amazing phenomenon.

"My sister, Ariel. You met her last night." Aurelia looked at him in confusion.

"I knew that she was your sister but I did not realize she was a twin. You do look quite a bit alike I suppose, but she is clearly not you. I suppose that is the way with some twins." 

Aurelia looked at him quizzically. Was he being serious? She looked exactly like Ariel. Everyone said so! Even her own parents could barely tell them apart. Though she loved her dearly, Aurelia had spent her whole life trying to be different from her sister. She wanted to be her own person. Everything she had done in her life practically yelled, "look at me!!!" 

Aurelia watched his face. He was being serious. Of course, he usually was. He was the very definition of valor and honor but he did not say things in jest very often.

That was the moment Aurelia really saw him for the first time. He really was quite handsome, someone she could hold on to, solid and real, an anchor to her rocking and rolling on uncharted waters. The kindness in his face overwhelmed her. He looked at her and she beamed. Bemused, he smiled back. 

She took his arm and steered him toward a doorway. "Let us stroll in the garden, Prince Colin."

"But... your sister?" he asked, though he did not resist her pull. He could resist Aurelia practically nothing. From the first night, he had known he loved her flighty and impulsive soul.

"I am quite sure she is capable of seeing to her own needs." Aurelia led him from the room.

In the garden, Aurelia led Colin into the maze and several turns to the left and right before she faced him, smiling. She stepped forward and put her arms around his neck. His eyes softened and he leaned down to kiss her gently, lingering on her sweet lips. He started to pull back but Aurelia clung to him, kissing him back more ferociously now. They had kissed before but she wanted more and, who better than a man who saw her as the unique person she had always believed she was? She slid her tongue past his lips and into his mouth, offering him her sweet, hot mouth for plundering. 

Prince Colin was overwhelmed by the assault on his senses, but gradually his mind returned to him. He took hold of Aurelia's arms and gently set her back away from him. "Aurelia, what are you playing at?" he asked reproachfully. "It is unkind to tease a man so."

Aurelia's pretty mouth turned down in an equally pretty pout. "I was not teasing, my Lord. Truly, you may have anything of me you wish, anything at all. I would give you rights no other has ever had where my body is concerned."

She looked up at him from beneath her eyelashes as she pressed herself once more into his arms. Colin held her but shook his head at her. 

"Aurelia, you are truly a treasure, one that I intend to win for all times. I will not do more than kiss you until I know you will be my wife."

Aurelia felt vexation threaten to overwhelm her. "I am offering you something other men would beg for, and you say no?"

"I say... not yet. Aurelia, you are so impetuous and though I love that about you, in this instance I feel the need to protect you from it. What if you became with child? We will not make love until you agree to be my wife."

Aurelia pushed away from him. "I have no intention of becoming some man's brood mare, my Lord. If that is what you wish, you will have to look elsewhere." 

Prince Colin watched her go sadly as Aurelia turned and stalked off through the maze. He would have to convince her that his love was true and he wanted more than a "brood mare." He looked around and suddenly realized he didn't know where Aurelia had led him. How was he supposed to get out of this maze?

Colin managed to find his way out of the maze in time to make it back to the boats. Aurelia was there, waiting to be rowed across, but received his greeting with an icy silence and hopped into the little boat unassisted. She would not thaw easily, he realized as he rowed. Nor would Colin give up easily. He had been through many a weary campaign and he would plan his strategy to woo her as carefully as any stratagem he had ever devised. 



Enchanted Twelve: Aurelia Ch. 02



Author's Note: There is no sex in this chapter, but I hope the titillation provided in chapters 1 and 2 will carry you through to the climax in chapter 3.

*

Colin and Aurelia were once again crossing the narrow end of the lake in a boat destined for the other shore, this time joined by Ariel and her admirer, Geoffrey. They were using a larger boat but Colin needed no help in rowing it so Geoffrey sat next to Ariel, holding her hand and attempting to make small talk. 

Aurelia stared into the water they glided over. Colin had not tried to speak to her, preferring to wait until they had some modicum of privacy.

"That is a lovely dress, Princess Aurelia," Geoffrey commented on her rose gown, trying to draw her into the almost one-sided conversation he was having with Ariel.

"Thank you," came the subdued reply. 

Geoffrey glanced at Colin and raised an eyebrow. They had both noticed over the past weeks that the women seemed rather unlike themselves as the journey across the water started, gradually coming to life as the boat neared the other shore. Their personalities were subdued at the beginning of the boat ride. They might talk and laugh but it was as if they were mere automatons, making the motions but not really alive. As they neared the far shore, they became more themselves, as if waking up. Added to the blankness in their eyes was a weariness that seemed to increase each night. 

Geoffrey and Colin had bonded over their concern for the beautiful women who shared a birth date. They didn't know what to make of it, but agreed that something was wrong. 

Ariel leaned her cheek against Geoffrey's shoulder and sighed. He squeezed her hand and she looked up at him. Some semblance of her normal warmth seemed to be returning to her eyes and she smiled up at him. 

Geoffrey smiled back but he couldn't help feeling concerned. Something was very wrong and it was getting worse as the days wore on. He had an odd foreboding that even as he was getting to know Ariel better, she was slipping away from him. He slid his arm around her and pulled her tighter against his side. 

They soon reached the other shore and Geoffrey hopped out to tie the boat to the dock with the rope Colin tossed him. He gave the women a hand out and as soon as her feet touched the ground, Aurelia swept haughtily away from them. 

"Apparently, her feelings about last night have returned as well," Colin murmured to Geoffrey as he hurried past the other couple to catch up with Aurelia.

Geoffrey smiled and offered Ariel his arm. They would take their time getting to the castle where the night's fete would be held. They were in no hurry. They had everything they wanted right there.

Colin caught up to Aurelia and matched her stride, not a difficult feat in her slippers and gown. Colin was tall and long limbed as well as strong. Thankfully, they had a little ways to go, which would allow him time to try to speak to her, to make her see reason.

"Aurelia," he began.

"If this is to be a continuation of your arguments of why I should allow myself to become a wife, bound to a marriage and kept barefoot and pregnant, you can save your breath. I have no intention of any such thing in my lifetime. I am a princess and I shall live my life as I see fit. I will not be made into a broodmare as so many women are forced to in order to fend for themselves in this world. Sold off into marriage like so much cattle at auction."

"Aurelia, please, it is not like that for every woman!"

Aurelia laughed. She had spent many a day playing in the village as she grew, observing the lot of the poor women there. "Please do not talk to me of truuuue love. I've seen where that has gotten many a woman, pregnant and tied to a man that wants a clean house and a warm meal, and little else from a woman once she is past her prime."

"Aurelia, I do not claim that is not the lot of many women, but we can do better than that. I would do better than that by you. Surely, there must have been some happy couples in your experience?"

Aurelia thought about the couples she had observed, about her happy mother and father and the village smith and his wife. But her thoughts quickly turned to the orphans and how one of her own sisters had been misused by a man once, narrowly avoiding ruin. "They are precious few. I see no point in taking the chance."

Colin caught Aurelia by the arm, arresting her progress over the wooded trail to the castle and turning her to face him. "Love is the point, love is the reason and worth taking a chance on."

Her lip curled as she sneered. "I have seen men promise love before. It is a convenient term for them that conjures up emotions for women which suit their needs."

"Aurelia! What has wrought this black mood in you?"

Aurelia opened her mouth but then stopped and shook her head wearily. Truly, it was not like her. Though she had no intention of getting married or tied down to a man, she knew that they came in all manner, some full of kindness and some selfish. Why was she picking out the worst and holding it up as the common? It could be no more than half of what was out there. The world was a balance of light and dark.

"I am sorry, Colin," she sighed. "I do not know what is wrong with me. I am tired. Forgive me and let us speak no more on this now. The simple truth is that I cannot give you what you want and you will not give me what I want. Perhaps it would be best if we went our separate ways."

With that, she turned and left Colin staring at her back as she walked away. He followed after her, not trying to catch up but keeping her in eyesight for safety's sake. How would he ever convince her?

At the castle, Colin walked in after Aurelia and watched as she was immediately swept off to dance by one of the many men there without a partner. He made his way to the table of food and took a seat, taking in the rich array of foods available, roast capons and geese, succulent venison wrapped in bacon and roasted, legs of lamb. There were pickled herrings and smoked salmons as well as a variety of cheeses and fresh breads. Anything one might desire seemed available, but he had no appetite for it. The only thing he wanted was Aurelia.

Colin watched her dance with one man after another through the night, his frustration mounting. Most women would be glad of a man that wanted to be with them, heart and soul, for the rest of their life. He had to pick the one woman who wanted the exact opposite? Surely, this must be fear talking. She had seen couples who did not nurture their marriages as God given bonds. That was the problem. It must be. He picked up his courage to make another foray onto the battlefield. 

As the dance ended, Colin stepped up to Aurelia. "May I have this dance?"

She sidestepped him neatly. "I believe I promised this dance to Sir Reginald." 

She took the hand of a startled looking near-sighted gentleman who flushed and bowed over her hand. 

Colin took a breath and gritted his teeth. "The next one, perhaps?"

"No, I am sorry. I have promised that to Prince Arthur and the next to Sir Benedict."

The music began and Aurelia moved away with Sir Reginald. Colin returned to his seat. 

Truth be told, Aurelia was finding the evening adding to her confusion. With every new partner, she found herself comparing them to Colin and they continually came up wanting. She would stare off into space as she danced and Colin's visage would float before her eyes though she did not summon it. Whatever was happening to her?

"Oh, I am so sorry," Sir Reginald simpered as he mis-stepped again, colliding with Aurelia instead of dancing past her.

Aurelia narrowed her eyes. Had he done that on purpose? No, he was just completely inept. Why in heaven's name was he even trying to dance? The song ended and she curtsied to him then hurried away. She felt her sleeve plucked as she moved through the crowd. 

"I believe this dance is mine?" a deep voice said. 

Aurelia turned and found Prince Arthur at her elbow, smiling. She returned the smile. Here was a truly nice man. So what was it that made her heart beat faster when she was with Colin but not Arthur? They were both handsome, both kind, steady and seemingly reliable. She had not known one longer than the other, though she had spent considerably more time with Colin. Why then, did she find herself longing for Colin? Could it be love? Good God, could she have fallen in love with him?

The song ended and Sir Benedict was instantly at her side, with his smarmy smile. Why had she agreed to dance with him? Aurelia fought the urge to roll her eyes. To avoid Colin, of course. What foolishness. She smiled, gritted her teeth and let Benedict lead her in the dance, her mind wandering so that she did not even notice when he edged her outside through a doorway. 

"What do you think you are doing? Unhand me, sir!" Aurelia kept her voice low. She did not want to cause a scene but she had no intention of going anywhere with Benedict. 





Enchanted Twelve: Aurelia Ch. 03



After having crossed the lake once again on their way to the ball, Geoffrey handed Ariel out of the boat and they started along the pathway.

Colin moved to help Aurelia out of the boat as well. She took his hand but kept her eyes down, unwilling to meet his gaze. When she was safely on the dock however, Colin did not let go of her.

"Aurelia, please, give me one moment to speak with you."

"To what purpose? I will not marry a man simply to be his handmaiden and broodmare." She attempted to pull away but Colin stepped closer and forced Aurelia's chin up to meet his gaze. 

"Aurelia! How can you say such things? I love you! You must know that," he said fervently.

"Men speak conveniently of love when they want something, but it is soon forgotten when they have achieved their ends. You claim to love me but you will not even share a bed with me."

Colin put his arms around Aurelia and pressed his lips passionately to hers. Aurelia stiffened then moved eagerly into his embrace but Colin abruptly broke the kiss off. "Do you think this isn't killing me? Holding you in my arms, not ripping your clothes off and dragging you to the ground? And last night, when you disrobed before me? I want nothing more than to be with you, but for all time. Besides, how do I know you won't just cast me aside when you've had your fun?"

Aurelia's lips quivered involuntarily at his tone but she firmed them and looked up reproachfully at him. "How can you jest at such a time?"

Colin threw up his arms. "Because I know not what else to do. I have tried telling you directly how much I love you. What can I do to convince you?"

Aurelia's smile faded and she shook her head mutely.

Colin took her hand and turned them both up the path. "Come, there is someone I would like you to meet."

Aurelia allowed herself to be led. "Who?"

"You will see when we get there."

The couple traversed the path and found the fete in full roar when they arrived. The group seemed merrier than any night before. As the couple made their way to the banquet table, the center of the merriment was revealed to pivot like a wheel around an older couple. Their hair was turning white and silver but their faces were somehow more youthful than the hair would suggest. 

The woman put up her hand and the crowd quieted a little. "And then he said... but is that not what dragon's tails are for?"

The crowd erupted in laughter once more. The woman's eyes looked in the direction of Colin and Aurelia and her laughter softened into a smile. Her gaze held Aurelia's for a moment then the smile widened. She stood and pointed out Aurelia and Colin to her husband.

Colin led Aurelia around the table and through the crowd. "Aurelia, I'd like you to meet my parents, Miriam and George."

Shock registered on Aurelia's face and she seemed unable to speak for a minute then she turned to whisper in his ear. "Your mother? You brought your mother and father to convince me to marry you?"

Colin squeezed her hand. "Just for you to meet. They are very nice people."

Colin's mother stepped forward. "You must be Aurelia. It is a pleasure to finally meet you, dear."

"The pleasure is mine, your highness." Aurelia curtsied deeply.

Miriam put out her hands and pulled Aurelia up. "Oh no, my dear, none of that tonight. Here, we are just Miriam and George. Sit with me. Let me get to know the woman who has so entranced our son." She drew Aurelia down the table to sit with her.

"So, tell me, why do you refuse to marry our son?" Miriam asked bluntly. 

Aurelia was taken aback. She looked at Miriam. There was no anger or condescension in the older woman's gaze, just a kind inquiry. Aurelia did not think she could answer as bluntly. She looked around for a change of topic.

"I am surprised Colin did not bring all his siblings to try to convince me as well." Aurelia laughed. 

Miriam shook her head sadly. "Colin has no siblings. I could never have another after Colin. We tried, believe me, we tried," she laughed roundly, "but it was not in the stars for us." She gazed across the crowd fondly at Colin. "He has been as much of a son as I could hope for in a dozen children."

Aurelia was shocked. All her life, everything she had observed put such a high priority on a woman's ability to bear children. "But... your husband," she didn't know how to phrase it delicately, "kept you?" 

Miriam smiled gently and patted Aurelia's hand. "Not every man treats women like chattel, to be bought, bred and sold if it does not take. Besides," she winked. "I kept my husband far too busy to go looking at other women."

Aurelia was shocked but as she talked with Miriam, a picture of a different type of life appeared before her. One where she could be and do everything she wanted, and still have Colin. 

After a little while, Colin rejoined them. As he approached, Aurelia stood. "Will you excuse me? There is something I need to speak with Colin about."

"Of course!" Miriam smiled. 

Aurelia took Colin's hand and led him out of the noisy room and down the hallway then up the stairs. She found an empty bedroom, drew him in and closed the door behind them. 

Colin looked at Aurelia nervously. Was she going to give him hell for bringing his mother there? 

Aurelia just stared at him for a moment. Her hands clenched in her skirts and twisted. Finally, she let go of her skirts, smoothed them and cleared her throat. "Yes." 

Colin's eyebrows shot up. "Pardon?"

Aurelia rolled her eyes. "Yes, I will marry you."

That was all Colin needed to hear. He scooped Aurelia up in his arms with a shout and twirled her around then rained kisses over her face. He carried her over to a sofa against the wall and sat with her in his lap. His lips settled on hers and the kiss deepened. 

Colin's kiss was a drug to Aurelia. She felt as if she floated and held tightly to his shoulders. Gradually she realized his fingers were pulling at her clothes, relieving her of the solid gown she had chosen that night. She reached to help him and frantically they undressed each other. 

As her bodice came down, Colin ducked his head and cupped her left breast as he sucked her nipple into his mouth. He sucked and swirled his tongue around it. 

Aurelia gasped at the warm heat surrounding her nipple. It was heavenly, like playing with herself in a warm bath, but better. 

They were soon naked on the sofa in a somewhat reversed fashion, with Aurelia sitting on the edge and Colin kneeling between her legs. Aurelia's head tilted forward to beg a sweet kiss from Colin's lips, her hair falling in a curtain around them. She gasped as Colin's fingers found her wet core. 

"Lay back," he urged, then dipped his head to kiss her nether lips, gathering her sweet nectar into his mouth. 

Aurelia leaned back and closed her eyes, moaning with abandon. Exquisite sensations radiated out from her core as Colin touched her with his fingers and mouth. His hot breath tickled her as his fingers pried her open and the tip of his tongue drew upward. His lips closed around her bud and sucked delicately, making her hips rock. "Colin... my love, my love." She cried out again as his fingers sank into her core, pushing in then stroking out of her. Her body tensed and shuddered with pleasure. 

Colin withdrew his fingers and stood, turning her bodily so he could place one knee on the sofa between Aurelia's legs. "Are you ready for me, my love?"

Aurelia opened her eyes to see his rampant cock drip onto her pussy as Colin looked hungrily down at her. "Yes," she whispered, "please Colin, yes."

Colin reached down and rubbed the head of his cock along her slit, gathering more moisture before pressing the head into her ready heat. He felt her body's resistance and pushed gently but strongly past it. 

Aurelia gasped and swallowed as Colin gave her a moment to adjust to the slight pain and fullness. She pushed her hips against him, urging him on and Colin began to move in her. 

Colin tried to move gently but the glory of her hot sheath around his cock drove him on desperately as he held her hips and thrust into her. Her moans and whimpers of fulfilled desire sang to him and he felt his entire being on fire as he exploded into her. He shouted wordlessly as his seed spilled into her in pulsing waves. 

As they stilled, Colin looked tenderly down at his momentarily sated Aurelia. He withdrew from her then scooped her up and carried her to the bed where they could curl up under covers to preserve the heat as their bodies cooled after the exertion. 

Aurelia's eyes drifted closed and she curled into him. 

Colin stroked her beautiful corn silk hair. Now, how would he keep her safe?



Enchanted Twelve: Cecilia Ch. 01



Author's Note: This is part of an existing chain story here at Literotica. I encourage you to look up the other chapters that deal with each Princess of Westingfield and the trials they go through to find true love and lift the curse that plagues them every night. Enjoy ~ Red

*

The sound of laughter, hushed voices, and tawdry whispers flittered into Cecilia's mind as she moved with grace on the dance floor. She had been worried when she'd reached the water's edge and Cassius wasn't there to greet her. Instead his servant Owen had been there. She'd known it was him before he spoke, simply because of his smell. It wasn't unpleasant, far from it. It reminded Cecilia of the pines back in her father's woods. Still she had felt uneasy as he rowed her across the water and deeper down stream. Eventually though, like always the sound of the woods calmed her. 

Owen explained that Prince Cassius had a special meeting to attend and could not greet her that night. To say she was disappointed would have been an understatement. The moment she had entered the woods of Orathland her memory had returned and she hungered for the handsome man that had claimed a piece of her soul. 

Now though time had passed and she was finally in his arms. Her curiosity at his meeting had been pushed away by the feel of his body pressed intimately against hers. She loved to dance with him. The air seemed to sizzle with excitement; her body hummed with pleasure and his fingers played it's own melody on her skin as he took her around and around the ball room floor. It was at times like these that Cecilia would feel a small wave of regret for her 'specialness' as some in Westingfield called it. 

Normally, Cecilia had no problems with the fact that she was blind. She'd had been since birth; it was normal for her and yet, when she heard her sisters and family members describe something that seemed to them to be simply breathtaking, she hungered for the ability. Lately she hungered for it even more because she wanted to see the features of the man that held her so closely in public and loved her so erotically in private. 

"Cecilia." 

Cassius's voice pulled her from her mental struggle and she looked toward the sensual sound. "Yes?" she whispered; her tongue slipped out to moisten the soft petals of flesh that were slightly bruised from the hungered kiss they'd shared earlier. 

"You were not listening." 

She felt the heat of her blush rise from her chest to spread over her face. Her head bowed and soft tendrils of raven ink fell across her cheeks. Strong fingers pushed them back and tucked them behind her delicate ears. 

"I am sorry. I was lost in my dreams." 

Cassius smiled. Cecilia couldn't see his expression, but she felt it. That was one thing she didn't regret. . . the ability to feel. Since she was a small child, though she couldn't physically see a person's reactions to situations she could sense their moods. She knew her lover was smiling down at her and this only caused her to blush a more crimson color. 

"Dreaming again?" he asked as his thumb swept lazily across her collar bone, "I dream too." 

"You do?" 

"You sound surprised." 

"I am," she whispered, "what do you dream about?" 

A soft chuckle fell across her as Cassius led her from the dance floor and out onto a balcony. Cecilia breathed deep the aroma of fragrant flowers and felt the heat of several candles burning around them. "Careful," the deep warning of her lover came to her. She felt him pull her closer to him and snuggled against his side. "There are fifteen candles surrounding you. An urn to your left full of yellow orchids, another to the far right. The balcony is approximately eight feet across and from where we entered to the edge, is another ten feet." 

"Rather small then," Cecilia answered back. Her fingers curled around the lapel of her Prince's jacket. "Would you walk me around the perimeter of it?" 

"Of course." 

Cecilia kept one hand on her Prince, while the other reached out to touch and feel her way about the balcony. Once she was satisfied that she had locked in the obstacles that were in front of her she squeezed Cassius's and smiled. She felt him move closer to her; his finger rested on her chin and she willingly opened her mouth, allowing him the access they both craved. When the kiss was over she turned away and snuggled against his chest. Her back absorbed the heat of his frame and she shivered as her body adjusted to the temperature. 

Cassius rubbed her arms, leaned his head on the top of hers and sighed deeply. "Do you really want to hear about my dreams?" 

"I do," she answered. 

"I dream of a world, different than this one. One that is not driven by magic. One that is simple, yet complex because man has made it that way. . .not some witch's whim or some wizard's potion. I dream of your land." 

Cecilia turned around and stared with wide, sightless eyes. "You dream of Westingfield?" 

"Yes, I do. You have spoken enough of it that it comes to me when I sleep. I travel there, but it is not like here. When you come to me, it is real. When I am in Westingfield, I am not there, it really is just a dream. I would like to see your world." 

"I would like that too." She leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his waist and holding him tightly to her. His fingers toyed with her hair, eventually pulling it free from the ribbons and bows that a maid of Oarthland had placed in them, per his request. "Cassius," she whispered as her fingers moved up and down the silky fabric of his jacket, "have you ever tried?" 

"Tried?" 

"Yes, have you ever tried to cross over to my world?"

"No, but I have thought about it." 

"I wish you could."

Cassius stepped back and took both of Cecilia's hands in his. "I think I can. That's why I was late tonight. I had to visit someone... someone who could help me cross over to Westingfield." 

Cecilia's face paled slightly then quickly recovered as she thought of how wonderful it would be to have Cassius in her world. "Who was it?" she asked as new dreams of being with her Prince filled her with joy. 

An uneasy silence however swept between them as Cassius paused in his tale. Cecilia felt the tension in him and her joy was quickly replaced with worry. "Cassius. . .who did you see? Who is going to help you?" 

"Angora."

"Angora?" 

"Yes, she's one of the few witches left here in Orathland. She's very old, or so that is the rumor, and very skilled."

"You seemed worried though. I can feel it." 

Cassius sighed, and pulled Cecilia away from the balcony and back into the dancing room where the others were milling toward the door and the orchestra was winding down. "I'm not worried and neither should you be. Trust me Cecilia. . .it'll work out. Angora is going to give me what I need to be with you." 

"What do you have to give this witch?" Cecilia asked. Again silence was her answer and a new fear crept into her bones. 

"She wants to go with me." 

"To Westingfield?" 

"Yes." 

"But why?" 

She felt her lover's body move and knew he'd shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know," he told her, confirming her thoughts, "But for me to be with you... I'll do whatever she asks of me." 

Cecilia felt her body tense as Prince Cassius's words washed over her. The thought of pending doom made her want nothing more than to remain in Oarthland and keep her lover and her family safe from this witch. Something told her though, that it was too late. The seed of desire had already been planted in both Cassius and Angora's head and a simple blind girl could do nothing to stop it. 



Enchanted Twelve: Cecilia Ch. 02



Cecilia smiled at the sound of her sister Danielle's giggles and soft squeals of pleasure. She could not see what Simon was doing to her oldest sister, but she knew at times, she had made those same noises. Her fingers tightened in the curls of her lover's hair. She felt his tongue sweeping over her sex, bringing the juices of her arousal to the surface and greedily licking them up. Perhaps it was this place, she thought for a moment, that gave her the ability to simply ignore everything and everyone around her.

Maybe it was the man she called hers that drove her to behave wantonly and for the first time to do so in front of others. But Cassius had insisted, or so his touch had forced her to act the way she was. Had Danielle told her to stop behaving like a common trollop, she would have, but... much to her surprise, her sister's sounds told her that Danielle had no qualms about showing her desire in front of her sister's sightless eyes. 

The two women shouted almost simultaneously, their men rose from between their legs, shared kisses with their respective lovers and then pushed their hardened rods into slick openings. Cecilia hissed, her lids became clenched. Cassius shoved his dick deeply into her heated core, her legs came up, wrapped tightly around him and together they moved. Each came closer to release; when Cecilia's body stiffened, she felt the knowing rush of fluids erupt from her pussy as his exploded from his shaft. 

A new sound interrupted the state of numbing bliss that had overtaken Cecilia. She jerked slightly, looked around, though knowing she could see nothing, and instead focused on sounds and scents. She recognized the way oars hit rock and felt the jarring of the boat sliding against stone. "We're here?" she asked, then sat up, pulling at her dress and trying to arrange herself so she would appear proper to whomever greeted them. 

"You look delicious," Danielle whispered. Cecilia blushed. 

"I'd almost forgotten you were there," her sister admitted. 

Danielle giggled, kissed Simon and then leaned over to speak with her sister. "You gave us great pleasure. It was beautiful to see your face in such a state of bliss... I wish..." Her words faded. 

Cecilia smiled, reached over and found her sister's cheek. "I often wish it, more so when I am here than I ever had in Westingfield. Thank you for coming with us. I fear Cassius is trusting the wrong woman." 

Cassius frowned, the look lost to Cecilia, but not to the others. Danielle's hand reached up and she took Cecilia's. "I am here now and I will be your eyes, though your senses have never led you wrong, so trust them." 

"As you trust yours?" Cecilia asked. She sensed the tension in her sister, felt it thick in the air and wondered why it was suddenly there. However, before she could ask, Cassius was aiding her in rising and stepping from the boat. She listened to him speak to a servant, and also heard her sister and Simon leaving the boat behind and following them. 

Cecilia felt Danielle's hand on her arm; she turned and looped hers through her sister's. "Cecilia, where are we going?" 

"We are going to meet a witch," Cecilia whispered. Again she felt tension rise up in her sister and patted her hand, hoping to relieve it. "I trust Cassius, I really do, but I too feel less at ease. I do not know this witch. There is so much magic here in this world. I am reminded of the stories mother shared with us. Stories we forced her to stop telling us. Yet... I have questions. Questions that maybe this woman can answer." 

Danielle nodded her head and smiled. "I love it here. When I wake up at home I have no memory of this place, but yet as soon as I see my Simon," she looked adoringly to her Prince, who walked with Cassius, "I remember this place as well as our home." 

"What is wrong?" Cecilia asked. She had noticed the sound of her sister's voice changing. It had been full of excitement and joy, then suddenly sorrow and shame. 

"I have done many things... many things I shouldn't do. I love two men," she admitted. 

Cecilia stopped short, jerked her sister to her and asked who the other man was. It was obvious to her that Simon had to be one of them, but what other Prince had stole her sister's heart? Before Danielle could answer though, Simon and Cassius had stopped walking and were heading to the girls. Cecilia allowed Cassius to lead her across what she felt certain was a path made up of some sort of stone or brick. The coarse material dug into her shoes forcing a frown from her as she thought of how hard the cobbler had worked to ready them all new pairs. 

A quick knock on a door brought her thoughts back to the moment at hand. The moment of meeting a witch, a witch that was to help Cassius reach the other side of Oarthland and enter Westingfield. The hard pull of the door brought a warm rush of air over its threshold. Cecilia shivered as the heat invaded her flesh. She had not been aware she'd been growing colder as they traveled down the path, but now as heat escaped the dwelling, she was being taken into, she welcomed it. 

"Prince Cassius, you have come and look you have the beautiful Cecilia and... who is this?" 

The voice of another, a woman that sounded familiar but not completely washed over Cecilia. Her brow furrowed as she focused sightless eyes on the space where she felt the woman was standing. "My sister Danielle and her..." 

"Ahh, Prince Simon," the woman whispered, stepping up and bowing to the lad as well as the other royals in her presence. 

"My beautiful nieces, it has been far too long," the woman whispered, before reaching out and grasping first Cecilia and then Danielle into her arms. 

Cecilia stiffened and pulled away. "Nieces?" she muttered, her face showing her confusion. 

"Angora?" she heard Danielle ask. 

"Yes, my beauties. It is I, your mother's sister." 

Cecilia felt the blood drain from her face. She stepped back, hitting a torch that burned along the wall. She was quickly jerked away from the pending danger and slammed against Cassius's chest. "Be careful!" he exclaimed, "I have not walked the room with you yet!" 

She felt her cheeks grow flush at the chastisement, but had to admit her shock had made her less cautious of her surroundings. She did not want to admit it was the woman whose home she was currently standing in. 

"Ahh, yes, the blind one," Angora whispered. Cecilia felt a hand on her arm, travel down to her wrist and then wrap around her fingers. "Come, I will lead you. Your sister and friends can follow. You look so much like our mother... Your grandmother, yet there is a hint of your father in you."

Cecilia walked with the woman, wondering if her words were true. Did she look like her grandmother and though others had said she looked somewhat like her father, did she really? Her features were a mask to her, made up of how she felt she looked. She would touch her face and try to comprehend the curves and dips, always hoping that she was passingly pretty and not some freak of nature. Often though her siblings, her parents and even the people of Westingfield were complimenting her on her delicate features. She had to take them at their word, for she had no image to rely on, but the ones her fingers provided. 

The smell of roasted bird, or other creature of the woods made her stomach churn. She blushed, placed a palm on her abdomen and whispered an apology. "No, my child. You are hungry. I'm sure all of you are. Come I have had my girl prepare a meal fit for ... a Princess." 

Angora led the group into a room. The smells overwhelmed Cecilia for a moment, but as she paused taking in several breaths, she was able to identify some of the herbs that had been used to flavor the foods. "Everything smells delightful," she admitted once Angora placed her in a strong, sturdy chair. Her fingers ran over the arms, noting the delicate carvings, which she traced with the tips of her slim digits. She felt Cassius's presence next to her and slipped one hand down. He took it and placed it on his leg, then patted her hand in reassurance that she knew she'd desperately needed. 

The sound of chairs scrapping floor helped her identify where her sister and Prince Simon were seated, just across from her and then another chair scrapped the floor and she assumed Angora had take a seat at what she thought to be the head of the table. 

"Aunt Angora," Danielle's voice piped up, "Cecilia was led to believe you have a way of helping Prince Cassius to reach the other side of Oarthland." 

Cecilia's interest moved from everything in the room to the one voice she needed to hear, the voice of her Aunt, a woman that she'd been told was a horrible woman, a powerful witch and yet... by the confession of the man she trusted, the only one that could bring the couple together into her world. Again she wished for the sight to see the woman's expression; instead she was forced to rely on intuition. 

"There is a way to unite all of you. You come to Oarthland through a portal. A portal long forgotten by your world and ignored by mine. You leave here with no memory... or at least what you believe are only dreams. Even this night you will not remember what transpires and I..." 

Angora's voice fell short. Her words stopping abruptly. The chair she'd been sitting in scratched the floor and Cecilia jumped. She sensed the others were as surprised by the woman's actions as she'd been. "Aunt Angora! What is it?" Cecilia's voice mimicked the concerned expression on her face. 

"You have brought a traitor with you!" Angora shouted, unbeknown to Cecilia a long bony finger was pointed toward the royals. 

Cecilia felt Cassius rise from his seat. She reached out to grip his arm and pull him down. He ignored her urging and moved around the table. "We have done no such thing. Where is this traitor?" he demanded. 

Cecilia's heart beat rapidly. Whomever Angora saw as a traitor was putting her and Cassius's happiness in jeopardy, yet she'd not sensed or felt another entering the room. Her brow was furrowed and her features pulled tight with confusion and worry. 

"Aunt Angora," Danielle's voice cut in on Angora's rambling, "there is no one here but us and we do not seek you harm. We seek answers. We need a way to..." 

"Enough! That whore has brought magic back into my world. Her magic! I sense it. Smell it! I can not see it, but it is there. YOU seek to trick me. You are just like them! You are spawns that have come from between the thighs of a treacherous slut. But you are here now. In my world and here is where you shall stay!"

Cecilia was hauled up against Cassius's chest. She heard the chairs of Danielle and Simon move simultaneously away from the table and then the sound of blades being drawn reached her senses. She swallowed nervously and fought the urge to panic. 

"There is no one here that seeks to harm you!" Danielle shouted. 

"Aunt, we only came for help... There is no one here with magic." 

Angora snarled. The sound riveted over Cecilia and made her skin grow cold. "We will go. It is obvious that you do not wish to aid us. But perhaps aid yourself." 

The witch's laughter echoed around the group. Cecilia heard her footsteps moving closer to her and Cassius. Out of one ear she could make out muffled sounds of Danielle and Simon whispering to each other, as well as moving around the table. "Oh you will stay here and then your sister, the lying whore of Oarthland will come and she will..." 

The sound of a woman screaming rang out and Cecilia covered her head, not knowing who or what had been hurt, but seeking to protect herself as best she could. Shouts and muffled prayers for salvation bounced off the walls. "We must flee now," Danielle shouted and grabbed her sister's hand. 

"What happened?" Cecilia shouted at her sister. She stumbled as they ran back through the keep. After a few moments, she pulled herself from Danielle's grasp. "Danielle! What happened?!" she demanded again. 

Danielle's breath fell across Cecilia's face. "A demon... a demon appeared and stabbed Angora. The traitor was there. But ... I didn't see him. No one did. Suddenly a knife was floating in the air and being plunged into her back!" 

Cecilia felt the blood drain from her face, and then she was swept up in Cassius's arms. She felt the wind on her face as he ran quickly from the keep. Danielle and Simon followed, their footsteps were easy to make out as well as their heavy breathing. 

They reached the woods and rested against thick trees. Cecilia stood still. Her hands clenched in fists and her face now red with anger. "What is happening!? Is she dead? Who brought a traitor? And..." her gaze shifted to Cassius's, "how will you..." 

"Shh, my sweet," Cassius whispered in a low voice. He gripped her face and pulled her close. His lips covering hers in a rushed kiss, before pulling away. "I will still find a way. There has to be a way. We can not continue to live like this. I can't." 

They kissed again, just as hungrily as before, eventually pulling away because they both needed to feed their starving lungs the air it craved. Tears fell from Cecilia's eyes. "I just don't understand what is happening." 

"We aren't supposed to understand," Danielle's voice whispered through the night, "she doesn't want us to. Cecilia if you could have seen her face. If you could have seen how she looked when she spoke of our parents." 

"I heard her words. I heard the hate in her voice. I did not need to see it to feel it." 

Cassius pulled Cecilia down as he sat on the moss-covered grown. "I fear she is dead though and without her so are our chances at merging our two worlds." 

Cecilia ran a trembling palm down Cassius's cheek. "We'll find a way. There has to be a way." 



Enchanted Twelve: Cecilia Ch. 03



The sound of music filled Cecilia's ears, but did little to stir her heart. She felt unease, more so than any other night she'd come to the enchanted world of Oarthland. Cassius, she knew danced with one of her sisters, which she wasn't sure of, but it was not that knowledge or lack of it, that concerned her. The air around her seemed different. The smell of it. The feel of it. Even the temperature had changed. To the best of her knowledge, no one seemed to notice, or if they did, they didn't seem at all worried. 

Cecila licked her lips, tasting the wine she'd drunk and moved a few inches from the wall where she'd been leaning. Her fingers reached slowly forward, found the chair Cassius had whispered would be to her left and slipped down into the feather-stuffed cushion. She exhaled softly, moaning as she felt the tension in her body ease slightly. Her hands moved lazily down to her feet, where she proceeded to slip her feet free of her slippers. 

"Barefoot beauty..." 

Cecila turned her sightless eyes to the voice that came from her right. "They are tired and worn," she admitted, then rose slightly, only to be stopped by a firm hand on her shoulder." 

"Remain seated then, for why weary your feet more than necessary?" 

"Thank you," she answered back, still trying to run through her memory and connect the voice with someone she'd met before. Seconds passed quickly as she waited for the stranger to speak again, when he did not, she frowned slightly and turned away. 

"Do you mind if I sit next to you?" 

"Not at all," she answered. A snap of a finger seemed to echo in her ear and then shuffles from what Cecilia assumed to be servants' feet could be heard. She listened as a chair was placed beside her the stranger gave his thanks to those that had done his bidding. 

"Cassius seems to be enjoying himself." 

"Is he? I can't..." 

"See?" 

"Well, that Sire is pretty obvious to those around me." 

"Aye it is. Would you like for me to describe to you what your Prince is doing?" 

"It is not necessary," Cecilia admitted, "you can though tell me your name and why you have chosen to seek me out." 

A soft chuckle poured from the man's lips and coated Cecilia with a sense of dread. "I am Warren, you met my mother..." 

Cecila's brow furrowed. "Your mother?" 

"Yes, your Aunt... Aunt Angora." 

The youngest Princess of Westingfield felt the blood drain from her face, her stomach twisted in a knot and for a brief moment she swore the world she lived in had tipped on its axis. A fluttering of warm breath brushed across her ear as Warren whispered, "Come with me cousin, for there is something you need to see." 

Cecilia felt a firm hand on her arm and winced from the strength the stranger possessed. "Do not fight me on this, for you will cause a great scene. You can not see the men I have placed within the exits of this castle, nor the ones that are mingling closely to the ones you hold dear, including your precious Cassius. Do not make me signal for them to take up arms and destroy all within their reach." 

Cecila's skin blanched further. The contents of her stomach rolled and pitched as she nodded her head and rose with as much calm and grace she could muster under the circumstances. She walked barefoot along side the man; her gaze, sightless as it seemed to search out for someone, anyone, yet there was only a foggy gray mist that had existed all her life. She heard the music of the orchestra, the clink of goblets being lifted in small toasts. Laughter of both feminine and masculine depth bubbled from various places within the room, and yet she made no move to seek aid from any she passed. The threat to her family and her love she knew was to be taken seriously. 

The couple slipped from the room, Cecilia counted the steps, and cataloged the turns. Her feet were soon growing more cold as they moved from the heated level of the castle to a more dark and cooler climate. The breeze from the wind lifted her hair from her shoulders and sent it splaying across her face. She pushed it away, stumbled on a small stone and winced softly. 

"Ahh, you forgot your slippers."

"You seemed to be rather rushed. Slippers were the last thing on my mind," Cecilia muttered under her breath, "Cassius will seek you out and..." 

A deep throaty laugh erupted, invading the night air. "That is what we hope. We hope all of them come, every Prince, Princess, Lord, Lady, King...and Queen." 

"But how? None but us sisters enter into this world. We leave here and return home, no memory of our visits, yet when we arrive here, all of it returns to us." 

"Yes, but last night you stole something from my mother." 

Cecilia pulled back and stared blindly at the man who held her. "We stole nothing! She began screaming and threatened us and..." 

"Enough!" Warren shouted. A low whistle filled the night, followed by the sound of carriage wheels. "My mother has a gift for you and yours. You will return to her castle and then I will return you to the water's edge." 

"I will go nowhere with you!" Cecilia shouted and jerked once more against the strong anchor of her cousin's hold. She opened her mouth to scream, but felt the air in her lungs rush out as a solid and firm punch to her stomach was delivered. 

"My men are still inside, do not tempt me..." 

The threat did as the stranger had desired. Immediately Cecilia became the agreeable captive to a madman. She walked with him to the carriage and allowed him to assist her into the conveyance. She sat down on what she felt was a leather-covered seat. Her fingers remained clasped together tightly and she listened as the man gave quick orders then settled into the seat across from her. 

"Will your men leave my family alone now?" she asked. 

"They will return to Westingfield safely, yes." 

"And I?" 

"I said you will return also. I give you my word." 

Cecilia sneered, but chose to keep her words and thoughts to herself. She counted the seconds and then the minutes. Eventually the carriage came to a halt and the doors were opened. Warren exited and then gripped Cecilia's hand firmly. He helped her out, slipped one arm around her slim waist and kept her pressed against him when she tried to pull away. "Shhh, pretty cousin Cece. I'll not harm you," he whispered against her temple. 

The young Princess took a deep breath and tried to calm the beating of her heart. She knew where they were. The smell of her Aunt's Castle would forever be locked within her. They entered the castle and immediately she sensed the evil that lived within the stone walls. 

"Ahh, my mother's most trusted serving girl... Is she more agreeable now that you have informed her of my arrival?" Warren asked a figure that Cecilia could not see, but did sense. "Good, let us go," he said and led Cecilia once more through the castle where the night before all had seemed to reek of danger. The stench was still there. 

They paused and Cecilia listened as her captor knocked on a door and was rewarded entry. She chewed on the inside of her lip as they stepped over the threshold and into another room. 

"My son," Angora whispered, "you brought me the weak one?" 

"The others were preoccupied, mother." 

Cecilia's eyes slanted at the reference to her being weak. She was anything but weak, she told herself, and straightened her back and shoulders to prove it. "What do you want with me?" she hissed, pulling free from Warren's hold. She stood there proud, yet inside fear threatened to consume her. 

"I only wish for you to take a message to my sister..." 

"A message?" 

"Yes, it is simple really. She has a piece of me, I need it back. If she returns it then I will close the portal and all of you will be safe." 

"What does she have? Mother has never ..." 

"She knows what she holds! She will return it to me, or I will make tomorrow night the final night for all of you!" 

"I can not help you," Cecilia stated as calmly as she was able, "I will have no memory of this night when I awake." 

A cackle left Angora's lips. "You will remember. Drink this," she whispered, and then snapped her fingers. 

Cecilia heard the footsteps of a smaller person and then felt her hand being lifted up. A glass, warm and fragile feeling was soon placed in her hand. "Drink all of it and when you leave this world you will remember all and will be able to do my bidding." 

"Your bidding?" 

"Yes, you will go to your mother, my traitor of a sister and tell her that I will destroy all if she does not bring back to me what I seek." 

"I do not trust you," Cecilia whispered. Her hands clutched the drink; its contents shook violently within her shaky grasp. 

"You shouldn't," Angora whispered, "but you have no choice really. Warren will destroy every Princess before they leave this world if you do not drink the mixture now." 

The image of her sisters lying in pools of blood seemed to come out of nowhere, and Cecilia tipped the glass to her lips. She drank deep, noted the bitter taste, but forced herself to continue swallowing every ounce of warm liquid. When she was done she felt the heat of the beverage blanket her. Her eyes closed and her body felt limp. Strong arms were suddenly supporting her and as she felt her body being lifted up into the air, she told herself that all would be well. "You said..." 

"I did not lie cousin. You will not be harmed... now sit here, while mother and I have a talk with you..."



Enchanted Twelve: Cecilia Ch. 04



RedHairedandFriendly ©

Author's Note:  The following is the last installment for Cecilia's story. Cecilia is one of the twelve princesses that were covered in the chain story "Enchanted Twelve". This chain story was inspired by the fairy tale: The Twelve Dancing Princesses and it was started a long time ago, in 2008, but due to personal circumstances it was stalled. For new readers I recommend going through the entire series and links can be found in the Chain story section of Lit., for old readers, there is a thread on the bulletin board at Lit., in the Author's Hangout forum, that is entitled "Twist a fairy tale with me..." – post 869, will give you a quick recap of all the stories up to this point. Thanks and enjoy the final phase of Westingfield and Oarthland, as seen from Cecilia's POV. ~ Red

Westingfield

Cecilia opened her eyes to the eerie silence. She saw nothing, which had been the way of things all her life; a thick fog of gray and black mingled in front of her sightless eyes. Her other senses however seemed more alive than ever before. The shuffling of feet, the rustling of gowns, and the soft whisper of foliage made her realize she was in the gardens; the soft fragrances her sisters were fond of told her they were as well. A warm breeze danced across her features, she closed her eyes and sighed. She wanted to embrace that warmth and moved toward it. As she reached the edge, a woman's voice spoke to her, "Do not take the path tonight, but turn away, remember my dear niece. You must seek out your mother, you must complete the task before you, or your love, your beloved Cassius will never see you again." 

The Princess turned away from the warm heat, and stepped back onto the path that would take her to the castle. "Cecilia, I can see you. Please come to me. Why do you turn away? I am here. I am waiting." 

Cecilia turned back, smiled and moved toward the voice that beckoned her. It was full of love and that love seemed to radiate from the warm breeze that had touched her skin. "Yes, my sweet. I am here for you. I will protect you, just come to me." 

"You cannot reach him. He is trapped and the only way you can save him is to seek out your mother. Go my dear sweet niece. You must save him. He will be lost to you. Hurry!" 

Once more the Princess turned away. "Good girl, hurry. Your mother, she is the key. She is the one keeping you from your beloved. Hurry now...before it is too late." 

Cecilia moved hesitantly at first; eventually she was able to reach the door that led from the gardens to the library. Her small cane tapped softly on the ground. "Princess Cecilia?" 

She turned to the voice. "Sir Chad, is that you?" she asked; it was not unusual for the guards to walk the grounds, so she trusted the man who spoke to her. 

"Yes, I am doing my nightly rounds. But why are you awake and why were you out in the gardens?" 

Cecilia cocked her head to one side, pondering his question. "You must let no one deter you from your mother. She is keeping your love locked away. She will kill him Cecilia. Your Cassius will die and it will be your fault," the voice in Cecilia's head chastised her. Tears welled up in her hazed orbs. 

"Princess, is something wrong?" Sir Chad asked.

The woman heard the sound of his footsteps and felt his presence closing the distance between them. Cecilia put her palms to her temple. "Do what you must," the voice whispered. She felt the guard's hand on her arm. 

"Princess?" 

"I'm fine, Sir Chad, just a headache." 

"Let me escort you back to your chambers," he offered, "and I will seek out cook, perhaps a warm glass of milk will aid you in a nice deep slumber." 

"That would be lovely," Cecilia whispered, and pressed her body against the guard's. She heard his sharp intake of breath. "You are so kind," she told him, "does your wife know how wonderful a man you are?" Her hand came up to rest against his chest. 

"Princess, you have forgotten – I am not wed." 

She smiled warmly. "Than your lover, she surely knows your value?" Her hand slid down and rested against his crotch. She rubbed gently. 

He moved his hand over hers and pushed her palm into his crotch. "I have no lover at this moment, my Princess." 

"Mmm, that is good to know." Cecilia used her fingers to release the ties of his britches. "I have no lover either," she whispered, and slipped to her knees, "no one wants a weak, simpleton." 

Sir Chad stroked her hair. "You are not weak, nor a simpleton." 

She smiled, and pulled his cock and testicles from their hiding place. "Cecilia, I am here. I am waiting for you, come to me," the man's voice begged her. 

"Do whatever you must to free your lover. Your mother wishes his death." 

A tear fell from Cecilia's eyes as the man and woman in her head battled with her heart. 

"Princess?" She felt Sir Chad's hand on her face; he wiped the tear away. She looked up and smiled softy, before bringing the guard's cock to her lips. Her tongue swept across the head; he groaned softly. She licked the tip, and toyed with the small depth that her slick muscle could tease. "Yes, Princess," he moaned. 

Cecilia saw nothing, but heard everything. The sound of his aroused state made her pulse race. She opened her mouth, and lowered her head down onto the mushroom tip. His fingers swept through her hair; he pushed her down his length. She moaned softly, turned herself so that the cock slid expertly down her tiny throat. "Fuck," he muttered, "you are a good cock sucker." 

Her mind screamed that this cock was not her lover's that what she was doing was wrong, but she could not stop herself. She had to keep him occupied, to seduce him so she could save Cassius. As she sucked and drew his length in and out of her throat, she recalled sitting with her Aunt in Oarthland, the land of her Prince. Her aunt sat with her, as did her cousin Warren, they served her a drink and spoke softly to her. They had told her that she would need to seek out her mother at all cost or Cassius would suffer. 

"Harder, Cecilia – suck my cock harder!" 

She shook away the images and concentrated on the dick that was slamming against the back of her throat. She gagged, opened her mouth wider and felt the slick shaft slide deeper. "Yes, oh fuck yes." 

Her hands massaged the soldier's testicles; her thumb played with the base, teasing the soft flesh between his hard spheres and his anus. "You are a naughty slut; oh fuck, yes." 

The first shot of silk slid down her throat; she pulled up, took a deep breath and drew in another white creamy thread of his seed. The third shot covered her face, as he pulled her off him. She heard his groan and grunt of pleasure. She felt her stomach twist and her pulse race. 

"Cecilia, I love you." 

The Princess shoved her face into her hands, and wiped at the sticky fluids. "I must go," she whispered, rose to her feet and with the cane still secured to her wrist, she tapped her way quickly from the library. "Thank you Princess," the guard called, "I look forward to more of your nightly visits." 

Cecilia sobbed softly; outside of the library wall, she spit out the taste of cum and fought the urge to expel the seeds that had been unloaded into her belly.  "You waste time! You do not love your Prince and he is going to die!" 

"No!" Cecilia cried as she righted herself and hurried toward her parents' chambers. The sound of her cane tapping on the floor was not as noticeable to her or anyone within distance of her. Cecilia had walked the path to her mother and father for years, so it took no time for her to reach their door. 

"Your Highness, what are you doing here?" 

Her sightless gaze shuffled back and forth between the two men that she knew stood protectively against her parents' door. "I seek my mother," she told them.

"Is there something amiss?" one guard asked.

She could hear the concern in his voice. "I seek her council. I must see her, please allow me entrance." 

"I will take you to her private sitting room. It is I, Daniel." 

"Thank you Daniel," Cecilia whispered. She felt the man's hand softly lift her arm and rest it on his. Together they walked a short distance, turned and paused. She heard the guard lift the latch and open the door.

"There is a chair, fifteen paces straight ahead, and a bench twelve paces to the right, another here right by the door. Do you wish my aid in finding a resting place?" he asked. 

Cecilia smiled. "No, just please wake my mother's lady and tell her I seek council with my mother." 

"As you wish, Your Highness." 

She heard the guard leave, and felt the emptiness of the room engulf her.  "Why did you not come to me? Why have you left me here alone? Do you not love me? Something is happening here Cecilia. I can feel it. There is magic in the air. Come back to me."

"I'm trying," she told the voice. The longing and pain made her heart wretch. Tears fell from her eyes. "Please hurry Mother, please hurry." 

~ ~ ~* ~ ~ ~ 

Oarthland/Westingfield

Cassius stood still, his jaw slack and his mind numb. She had been there, he was sure of it. He heard her, saw her, and even smelled the sweet fragrance that he knew was Cecilia. Yet, she had turned from him. The other women had come to Oarthland, but not Cecilia, not his Princess. His heart seemed to shatter into a million pieces. Why had she stopped walking toward him? What had he done to stir her anger? 

The shimmering path that glowed from the woods of Oarthland had been unusually bright this particular evening, and he was tempted to walk through it, but what would happen if he crossed into Westingfield, found his love and discovered she had in fact knowingly and willingly abandoned him. Also, what was so special about this night that allowed the portal to remain open? Cassius stood bewildered until a rush of wind swept over him. He stumbled back and looked up. His eyes grew wide and his mouth shut tight, stifling the gasp of shock that threatened to explode from his chest. 

Two dragons flew high over Oarthland, their speed and beauty was easy to see with the stars and moon illuminating every rippling muscle. He watched them sore higher and higher, until a cloud seemed to part and their large muscular frames disappeared. Cassius stood speechless. Where had they gone? He rubbed his eyes and looked back at the shimmering clouds. The dragons were indeed gone and yet the shimmer still remained. He glanced at the path where he had seen Cecilia hovering. Were the portals of Orathland open again, and if so how and why? Did he dare go forth and take a chance on becoming lost in another world, or crushed inside the portal if the magic chose to close around him? 

"I'm trying." 

He heard Cecilia's words; felt her pain and knew he had to go to her. Cassius licked his lips, touched the hilt of his sword, and stepped through the portal. Instantly he was surrounded by the shimmering silver and gold leaves of the garden that lived within the magic walls of the portal. He caressed them; they were soft and warm. The more he walked, the more the leaves began to change; eventually the bushes, flowers, and other various foliage looked dull compared to the beauty of the magic path he had trod. 

Cassius looked around. He felt queasy and sick to his stomach. His gaze shifted back to the portal. It still shimmered. He could return to his land, and what was familiar to him, or he could explore the world his love lived in, and pray he found her. He was in Westingfield, he was sure of it, and was that not what he had always wanted ever since meeting Princess Cecilia? Cassius squared his shoulders and moved through the garden. When he heard the laughter of two men, he paused and pressed himself against the cool surface of the castle. It did not surprise him that the grounds were guarded, after all Cecilia was a Princess, one of twelve, and that certainly meant a King and Queen resided within the stone walls. Getting to his beloved would not be an easy task. He listened to the men, hoping their conversation concerning the local whore would be quick. 

"I speak the truth," Sir Chad said to his fellow guard, "she dropped to her knees and sucked my cock like she'd been doing it from the cradle." 

"You speak lies. You know the only Princess that is a whore and slut is the eldest. Princess Cecilia is a gem of a girl. She would not take a guard's cock." 

Cassius frowned. His Princess had drank another's seed? Was she the whore these men spoke of? No, he told himself, she was enchanted by the magic of Oarthland and he had to save her. 

"She did and tomorrow I will visit her chamber. I'll have my cock buried so deep in her pussy she'll most likely be able to see the stars!" 

The Prince from Oarthland gripped his sword. 

"We'll see about that," he muttered, then took a step out, exposing his presence to the two men. 

Immediately they pulled their weapons. Sir Chad shouted, "To arms" while the other quickly began to parry with Cassius. 

The young Prince fought valiantly, but he was no match for the two more seasoned warriors. Cassius had not had to fight for his life in years, for the world of Oarthland, though full of magic and beasties that would rather eat you than parry with you was relatively peaceful at least in his lands they were. When his sword was knocked from his hand and sailing into the air, Cassius fell to his knees and knew he had failed his Princess.

The tip of Sir Chad's weapon rested against his throat. "Who are you and where are your men?" the guard demanded. 

Cassius looked up, and took note of several more guards rushing into the garden. "I am Prince Cassius, one of the Princes from the land of Oarthland." 

The guard stared down at the young Prince. "We have never heard of this land you speak of." 

"It exists beyond the garden, a portal between our two lands has opened and it remains open for any and all to walk through it." 

Sir Chad stared in shock at the man's words. He looked at the soldier nearest to the gardens. "Take two others and if this man speaks the truth, leave them to guard this portal, and return to me. They are not to let anyone through, or they will suffer." 

Cassius glanced toward the three men that had taken the order to heart and quickly left to do the warrior's bidding. "You sir, rise and we will seek the council of our King." 

The Prince rose, making no move to attack his captors. His shoulders slumped and his step was heavy. He had failed Princess Cecilia. A scream of fear ripped through the air. All of the men, including the Prince spun around and stared at the man who sat on his knees cowering in fear. His eyes were locked to the sky. Two dragons swooped around the clouds, their bodies huge and menacing. 

~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~ 

Andrea woke with a start as her Ladies maid gently shook her. "What is it?" she asked, slowly rolling over to see if her spouse still slept. His snore was her answer. She rolled her eyes and chuckled. "Yes?" she asked the maid again. 

"Your daughter Cecilia seeks your council," the woman answered. 

Andrea's brow furrowed in confusion. "Cecilia," she rubbed her eyes and looked around; her face paled and she rose up tossing the blankets from her nude figure. The maid rushed to grab the Queen her robe. "Where is she?" Andrea demanded as she slipped her arms into the sleeves and tied the sash. 

"She is in your private study. She came to your bedchamber door and asked to speak with you. I was roused and that is all I know, Your Majesty." 

"Take me to her," Andrea demanded. 

"Do you wish for me to..." 

The maid's words were cut off as several guards burst into the King and Queen's bedchamber. The maid squealed, and pushed Andrea behind her. King Bartholomew rose from his bed, the covers thrown off and the sword that rested at his side was in his hand. His nudity was barely noticed as his guards advanced further into the room. When the King noted that the only men in his room were the ones in his employ, he laid his weapon down and pulled a robe from the hook on the wall. When he was covered he faced the Captain of the guard. 

"What is happening?" he demanded.

"Your Highness, Westingfield is under attack." 

The Queen gasped, and looked to her husband. They both knew who attacked their home, what they did not know was the fate of their daughters. "Take the Queen and my daughters to the dungeons, access the secret passage way and deliver them safely beyond our walls," Bartholomew ordered, before hurrying to dress. "Tell me how many men are at our gates." 

The soldier beckoned for two men to go with the Queen and her ladies maid. The women stopped when the Captain of the guard said, "One man, he claims to be a Prince and two dragons. The dragons have not landed, but they look to carry riders. Two, three – I don't know how many and I don't know if there are more to come. They appeared in the sky, there was no warning, and not a sound spoken, they were just there." 

The Queen turned to face the Captain. "Dragons?" 

"Yes, your Majesty. I know my words sound like those of a crazed man, but there are dragons in Westingfield and they mean to attack I'm sure of it! We must hurry your Highness, please go with the guards and..." 

"Bartholomew, dragons of Oarthland are loyal and kind, if they are here it is not to attack, not unless Angora has charmed them with some spell or potion." 

"We can take no chances!" the King answered. He received assistance in donning his battle gear. 

"Go now, gather the girls and..." 

His sentence was interrupted when another entered the room. "The Princesses are gone!" 

Andrea and Bartholomew staggered against the bed. 

"All of them?" Andrea asked; her world seemed to slip out of focus as she began to sink to the floor, her ladies maid and a guard caught her before she crumbled. 

"Princess Cecilia is in your study, remember," the ladies maid called out from a dense and heavy veil that seemed to cover Andrea's mind. 

"See to her, immediately," the King demanded, and bring this so called Prince to my ready room, I will have his story. Keep an eye on the dragons and their riders. If they land, be ready to still the hearts of the great beasts and disarm those that ride them. Be swift, for a dragon is not a being to be trifled with." 

"Bartholomew you cannot kill them! They may be harmless!" the Queen shouted. 

"And they may be here to finish what your sister has started! Go to Cecilia and see what she knows of all this. I want that Prince brought to me now!" 

The Queen was rushed from the room, and the King left with his men. Word spread quickly through the castle; men and women hurried to hide the valuables they knew would be used to rebuild the wealth of Westingfield if their royal family had to flee. Andrea was pushed roughly over the threshold of her study, and waved off the apology the guard offered. She had only eyes and thoughts on her youngest daughter, who had risen to stand upon hearing her mother's entrance. 

Andrea rushed forward and gathered Cecilia into her arms. "Daughter, what is it? What is happening?" 

Cecilia looked upon her mother, as well as one can with an empty gaze. "You have my love mother, my heart, my soul. I am here to rescue him from your grasp. You will give him to me, or I will kill you." 

Andrea felt the prick of a knife pressed into her stomach. She glanced down and saw the determination in her daughter's face. Her gaze flew to the guard, but he was unaware of what her daughter intended; his attention was locked on what was happening outside the window. "Cecilia, I don't understand. I have no one, please –please tell me what is going on." 

 "She lies, she has him she --- My sweet Warren, look what you have brought me.--- take her and use her as you desire, and feel free to make her scream, she resembles her mother too much for my liking -- Do it Cecilia, kill her so you can free your beloved ---You bitch! ---Die sister! Die!" 




Enchanted Twelve: Merry Ch. 01



Hello and welcome to my readers. Thanks for your votes, comments and e-mail's on my previous stories. This tale is one of a series in a Chain Story entitled 'Enchanted Twelve'. I strongly encourage everyone to read all the stories written by other authors in the chain. Now, I would like to introduce to you Princess Merry and Prince Karl. Enjoy.

* * * *

Laughing and talking, the Princesses wended their way through the Silver Forest. Rounding a bend they saw their Princes waiting for them and began walking faster. When Merry saw Karl she broke into an unladylike run, hitching up her skirts, flinging herself into his outstretched arms. He lifted her and spun her around as they exchanged passionate kisses.

Merry always felt safe when she was with Karl; he made her forget the awful dreams she and her sisters suffered with every night. He was her protector, her champion, her armor against all that would threaten them and she loved him dearly.

Karl hugged Merry's slim body to him, his face buried in her mane of red hair. She smelled of perfumed soap and fragrant herbs. He breathed deeply, inhaling the wonderful scents of the woman he loved. Her arms encircled his neck as they kissed, oblivious to the happy cries of the others as they met their own princes.

"Your boat awaits m'lady," Karl said, setting her down gently. She was so unlike the women in his kingdom of Vard. They were large framed and as strong as their men, unlike Merry who was slim as a reed and just as delicate. He had learned not to hug too tightly for fear of hurting her, but she accepted his embraces without fear.

"Why thank you kind sir," Merry replied, taking his hand as he helped her into the gently rocking boat. Her green eyes shone as he clambered into the stern, dipped a paddle into the water and struck out for the opposite shore. His muscular body gave her goose bumps as she watched him scull effortlessly through the rushing water. 

She quivered with anticipation as they neared the other side. Soon they would disappear into the dark forest and slake their thirst for each other. She was already moist between her legs remembering the first time they made love, how his thick cock stretched the walls of her virginal pussy as he gently entered her. The pain quickly turned to pleasure as he stroked in and out of her, her fingernails leaving deep scratches on his back as they rocked together. Her powerful orgasm heightened by his long moan as he drenched her pussy with jets of thick cum while she cried out in pleasure.

*

After they had disembarked, Karl lifted the boat from the water and upended it on the bank. Hand in hand they walked among the towering oak, maple and chestnut trees; in no hurry to reach the dancing ground. They saw a trail through some underbrush and decided to follow it. Soon, they came upon a verdant sunlit glade and a shimmering pool of water. It was dark where they had come from. How could this be? Curious, a Merry dipped a hand in the water; it was pleasantly warm.

"Let us go for a swim Karl," she said happily. "Unlace me please."

"With pleasure," he replied, untying the knots and nuzzling her neck as she giggled with excitement. Merry wriggled out of her garments and hesitated, her face in an exaggerated pout.

"Karl, I have no place to hang my pretty gown. It will be soiled if I lay it on the grass."

"Such a demanding wench you are," Karl grumbled in mock irritation. He strode to an oak tree, shinnied up the trunk, broke off several limbs and in minutes had constructed a crude rack for their clothing. He stripped and dove in, Merry jumping behind him. Laughing and splashing they played in the water, dunking each other as they became more excited. 

Standing in the shallows, Karl pulled Merry to him and kissed her. "Would you enjoy a ride in the country fair maiden?"

"Oh so very much good sir," Merry replied. "I will ride with you anywhere."

"Then let us begin," Karl said. He lifted Merry by her waist as she wrapped her arms around his neck and nibbled his ear. She spread her legs and felt the velvet head of his throbbing cock brush her pussy lips. She relaxed her hold and slowly lowered herself, shivering with delight. Karl groaned as her silky pussy enfolded his aching cock, teasingly gripping it inch by inch until it was completely inside her. 

Merry tongued Karl's ear. "Now," she whispered, "Let us ride, my love."

She swung her legs around his waist as he lifted her up and down, his cock head lingering between her engorged lips, then plunging into her, making her gasp. He was such a wonderful lover she could hardly stand it.

"Enough trotting, let us canter a while," she moaned. He shifted his weight in the knee deep water and stroked into her even faster, her little shrieks of delight spurring him on.

Merry felt faint as Karl's stiffness impaled her repeatedly. Her puffy nipples tingled as they rubbed on his wiry chest hair, their bellies slapping together with each thrust. Familiar warmth suffused her body and she knew her orgasm was near. Her green eyes met his blue ones as she cried, "To the gallop my darling, the quarry is in sight." He began pounding into her, his hands leaving her waist, cupping her rounded buttocks as she squealed with excitement. He bit his lip trying desperately to keep from cumming until she did.

Merry tossed her head back, red hair swirling, scattering drops of water everywhere. "Ohhhh...Karl...yessss," she wailed as her orgasm coursed like liquid fire through her body. Her pussy bathed Karl's erection in waves of warm juices as he pumped ropes of thick cum into her, groaning and shuddering in his release. Her pussy muscles rippled along his cock coaxing out the last of his cum as she had another massive orgasm. Clinging together, they settled into the warm water, softly kissing as they basked in the glow of their mutual satisfaction.

"Oh my, and who do we have here sister?" someone said behind them.

Karl and Merry turned and their eyes widened in surprise. Two naked women stood on the bank looking bemusedly at them. The one on the right's skin was a pale blue, her long hair, lips, nipples and pubic hair a shimmering aquamarine. The one on the left's skin was a light green, her long hair, lips, nipples and pubic hair a deep emerald. Both were slim with flared hips, narrow waists and firm up tilted breasts.

"Who...who are you?" Merry asked, finding her voice.

"More like what are you?" Karl asked wonderingly.

"I am Aqua," the blue woman answered. "And this is my sister Larch. She is a wood nymph and I am a water sprite. Why are you befouling my favorite pool?"

"Look at my poor oak," Larch exclaimed. "You brutes ripped it's branches off. She hugged it and said soothingly "There, there, it will be all right, don't be upset." 

Merry gasped as the tree quivered when Larch crooned to it. "Karl, what shall we do?" she whispered. "These are magical beings and..."

"Come here you two," Aqua said menacingly. "You castle dwellers encroach on our homes every day; cutting down trees, setting fires, washing clothes, dirtying my pure water with your waste and filth. You should be punished."

"You'll not touch a hair on my loves head," Karl rumbled as he climbed on the bank, water sheeting from his broad chest. "Magical beings or no, deal with me first if you dare."

Aqua looked appraisingly at his massive frame, eyes alighting on his semi-hard cock. 'I would never think of hurting a lovely man such as you," she purred. "Come here sister."

Larch was at her side in an instant. "What a beautiful human," she said huskily. "It has been a long time since we..."

"You get away from him," Merry shouted, stepping next to Karl. "This is my prince. Go find one of your own."

"She's a spirited one isn't she?" Larch said, smiling. "There is so much of him. Won't you share for a while? We weren't going to neglect you, lovely." She stepped forward and caressed Merry's cheek. "So soft and smooth, what is your name pretty flower?"

Merry sighed as Larch's hand touched her. "Merry. I am a Princess of Westingfield. Karl is a Prince of Vard. Your touch is so gentle Larch."

"As is this one's," Karl rumbled as Aqua pressed herself against him, her stiff nipples poking his chest. "Do not start something you cannot finish little sprite."

"Oh I think we will all finish in fine style," Larch murmured as Merry caressed her cheek in return. "I have already forgiven you both for hurting my tree."

"As have I for fouling my water," Aqua said, stroking Karl's abs and his stiffening cock. "Do you wish to play now?"

"Yes, let us play," Larch replied, pulling Merry to her and kissing her deeply. She sighed as Merry returned the kiss with equal fervor.

Merry was no stranger to Sapphic love, expertly tutored in secret by an equally adventuresome Ladies Maid her same age. They had continued their clandestine trysts until she met Karl and the Maid married the Head Cook who captured her fancy.

***

Karl lifted Aqua and kissed her, their tongues swirling together as she slid her wet pussy along his stiff cock. He laid her softly in the grass, sucking her erect nipples, his finger probing in her pussy. She mewed in pleasure as her hand moved on his cock, slippery now with precum. She spread her legs and he slid between them.

"I do not wish to hurt you Aqua. However sometimes when I am in passions grip I forget my strength. I will be careful, I promise."

"I welcome all you care to give me, you beautiful man. Mine is the strength of floodwaters and the pounding surf. Let us blend our strengths in glorious pleasure."

Aqua gripped Karl's ass and pulled him into her with one thrust. He sucked and bit her thick nipples as he pounded her tight pussy; her long nails raked his skin as her hips rose to meet his in perfect rhythm. They rolled in the grass, first one then the other on top, never missing a beat as they fucked in wild abandon.

***

Larch and Merry lay together in the grass, kissing and exploring each other. Merry sighed as Larch's finger wiggled in her pussy. "Your touch is so exciting Larch. Do you love men as well as women?"

"Oh yes. I enjoy a man's hardness as well as a woman's tongue in my...ooooh." She moaned as Merry's finger slid between her green nether lips. 

"As do I...uhhhhh." Merry replied as Larch added a second finger, twisting them against her lover's slick walls.

Merry sucked a green nipple in her mouth and lashed it with her tongue, her fingers probing Larch's wetness. Larch responded by pumping her fingers deep in Merry's pussy, back arching as Merry's thumb found her lover's throbbing clit, peeling back the fleshy sheath.

"Ohhh...mmmm..." Larch moaned. "Sweet Merry, I want your mouth on me. Please lick my pussy. I want to taste yours."

Merry turned around and lowered her dripping pussy to Larch's wiggling tongue; her head dropping between Larch's spread legs as she sucked the engorged lips in her mouth. Hands gripping ass cheeks, they began devouring their pussy banquet.

***

Aqua rolled on top of Karl, joyfully impaling herself on his thickness. Karl rolled her nipples under his thumbs as he kneaded her breasts. Blue hair flying, Aqua rode him faster and faster, her juices flowing down Karl's dick as her orgasm rose and burst, suffusing her body with a splendid agony.

Wailing her delight, she rode his cock to a second orgasm, then a third as Karl groaned and squirted bursts of hot cum deep in her gripping pussy. She collapsed on top of him, panting from her exertions as he enfolded her in his arms. They kissed tenderly savoring the afterglow.

***

Larch sucked Merry's clit in her mouth, licking and nibbling, as her fingers were busy in her lover's cunt and asshole. Merry slid a finger from each hand into Larch's puckered hole, licking and sucking on the engorged clit. Larch moaned in ecstasy as Merry's lips and tongue drove her wild; back arching she had a thundering orgasm that made her tremble. Merry ground her hot pussy against Larch's face, flooding her mouth with salty juices as her orgasm claimed her. Larch squirted warm fluids into Merry's open mouth, filling it repeatedly as Merry swallowed every delicious drop.

Larch turned around and snuggled into Merry's welcoming arms. "I have not made love with a woman as skilled as you before," she murmured. "It was exquisite. I wish you were mine alone."

"You were wonderful dear Larch," Merry replied. "I have never cum so hard with a woman before. If the circumstances were different, I would gladly be your lover for all time."

Two shadows fell over them and they looked up at the smiling faces of Karl and Aqua. "Did you two have fun?" Aqua purred. "Karl and I certainly did."

"It was glorious," Merry replied.

"Please join us. The fun is just starting," Larch said, throatily. "There must be a game we all can play."

"I know of one," Karl said in a deep voice. The three women looked at him expectantly. "Larch, get on your hands and knees between Merry's legs. Aqua, straddle Merry's face." He gripped Larch's hips and teased her pussy with the head of his cock. "I'll start things back here," he said, easing his thick cock into Larch's sopping hole. 

Larch gasped as Karl's cock filled her to bursting, pumping in and out. She wrapped her arms around Merry's thighs and buried her face in her juicy pussy, swallowing the sweet cream that flowed from it.

Aqua lowered her steaming pussy to Merry's wriggling tongue, groaning as Merry wormed a cum-covered finger in her tight asshole. She leaned forward and stroked Merry's clit with her fingers, spreading her legs wider as Merry licked and sucked on her gaping pussy.

The woodland glade rang with the sounds of intense lovemaking. The squish of a hard fucked pussy, the slurps and sucks of pussies being eaten, the slap of flesh on flesh and the cries of passion as the four pleasured each other hour after hour. Karl's erection never dwindled and the women's pussies flowed like fountains as they shared uncounted orgasms. Finally collapsing from sheer exhaustion, they lay together in the grass as a gentle breeze cooled their sweaty bodies.

Aqua climbed shakily to her feet. "I invite all of you to my home. The warmth will ease our tired bodies." They floated and swam in the soothing waters, exchanging kisses and caresses, becoming friends as well as lovers.

"Oh Karl," Merry said. "This has been so enjoyable I don't even care if we missed the dancing."

"Me either," he replied, laughing as Aqua bobbed up in front of him and kissed his nose. "I would much rather be here."

"If you two would still like to dance, I think I can help you," Larch replied, cupping Merry's breasts and nuzzling her neck."

"Yes, the portal. What a great idea," Aqua replied, shivering as Karl caressed her pussy.

Drying off in the breeze, Karl and Merry followed Larch and Aqua to a huge sycamore tree. Pulling on their clothing, they watched in amazement as Larch touched the tree trunk and an opening appeared. "Follow us," she said, walking in holding hands with Aqua. 

There was a feeling of motion, and then Karl and Merry emerged from a door in a sycamore tree near the dancing ground. The other princes and princesses were conversing gaily, waiting for the music to begin. 

"Goodbye Karl and Merry," Larch said sadly. "Will you come visit us again?"

"Yes please do," Aqua added. "You are always welcome in our homes."

Karl gathered them up in his arms, kissing each one in turn. "We will return whenever we can. You are as close to us as the rustling tree or the babbling brook."

"Return to me soon, my mighty lover," Aqua murmured to Karl. "You are truly my equal in passion."

"It may be sooner than you think," Karl replied, "You will always hold a special place in my heart."

Merry hugged Aqua, then Larch, who whispered in her ear "If it's just the two of us who meet, I will not mind."

"Nor I dear Larch," Merry replied, a tear rolling down her cheek.

"Karl. Merry. Make haste, the dance is commencing," shouted the others as the music began.

"They cannot see us," Aqua said. "We must go. Good fortune to you both."

"Return to us soon," Larch added. "And if you ever need us, we are never far away."

They stepped back into the tree and the door disappeared, leaving rough bark behind.

"Karl," Merry said wonderingly. "Was that real or did we...?"

"Dream it?" He finished. "I do not know. Somehow, I think not. Come my love, the others are already forming quadrilles."

Hand in hand, they walked to the dancing ground. The sounds of leaves rustling and water flowing soothing in their ears.



Enchanted Twelve: Merry Ch. 02



Hello and welcome to my readers. Thank you for your votes, PM's and e-mails. This tale is a part of the 'Enchanted Twelve' chain story begun by RedHairedandFriendly. You may also wish to read Chapter 1 of Princess Merry and Prince Karl's adventures. I also highly recommend your reading the other authors contributions to this chain. Fun and adventure await you.

--------------------------------------

'Children of the Dragon'

Princess Merry ran eagerly to Prince Karl and jumped into his arms. She rubbed herself against his hard body as he hugged her and they kissed passionately. Merry could hardly wait until they were in the forest so they could make love before the dancing began. Her knee hit something that gave a dull 'clang'. Karl's two-handed broadsword was at his side.

"Why did you bring 'Thunderbolt' my love? Is there danger about?" 

"A leaf blew in my window as I was preparing to meet you. It was a note from Larch and Aqua. They said there are dragons prowling and we should be on our guard."

"Then it is good I brought Snake Fang."

Merry lifted her skirts revealing her fighting dagger. It's snake skin scabbard strapped to her calf.

"My brave Princess," Karl said admiringly. "Let us go, our boat awaits."

***

"Does it not seem farther than usual to the Dancing Ground?" Merry said wearily. "I do not recognize this part of the forest."

"I am positive we turned correctly at Mushroom Rock," Karl replied. "Do you wish me to carry you?"

"That would be nice, however I…Karl! Where are we?"

Appearing before them lay a vast expanse of green grass stretching to the horizon. The sun shone brightly and the sky was cloudless.

"I do not know. How can the sun be shining in the dark of night? This is wizardry most foul."

"I am tired my love. Can we not tarry a while?"

Merry spread out her cape removed her dagger and lay down. The smell of grass and earth filled her nostrils. Karl spread his cape next to hers, unbuckled his sword and stretched luxuriantly. They began to kiss and hug, hands roaming, their forever-smoldering passion bursting into flame.

Lovingly they undressed each other and lay naked in the warm sun. Merry stroked Karl's stiffening cock while his fingers danced in her pussy. Karl rose on all fours, straddling Merry as his cock head slid up and down on her wet slit. Merry's arms went around his neck and pulled him to her, raining kisses on his face. 

"Take me my prince," she breathed. "I want you inside me." She raised her hips and partially impaled herself on his thick cock.

"My princess, you are my life," Karl rumbled. "I am incomplete until I am with you." He thrust into her as she wrapped her legs around his waist; pumping in and out in time with her surging hips as their lovemaking began.

She clung to him as he rose to his hands and knees, swaying back and forth like a pendulum, his cock stretching her pussy walls as she moaned in delight. Her vaginal muscles rippled along his cock, feeling as if a hand in a silken glove gripped him.

The rocked together as their orgasms rose, kissing wildly, grunting and panting like animals in rut.

"I can hold back no longer," Karl moaned. "I must release. Are you with me?"

"Fill me to overflowing," Merry cried. "I am with you. Do it now!"

Karl's body shook as he shot his thick cum deep in Merry's soaked pussy. She cried out in pleasure as her orgasm seared through her and she drenched his cock in her sweet juices. They continued to sway until they each had another wrenching orgasm, then lay beside each other; enervated by the intensity of their lovemaking. 

***

A shadow passed over them and they looked up. Something was circling high above, and then began descending in slow spirals. Weapons at the ready they watched an immense dragon land in the grass a short distance away.

The creature lay down, folded it's webbed wings, crossed it's front paws and gazed at them benignly with yellow eyes the size of dinner plates; it's lower body and wings a pale blue while it's upper body and wings an amazing riot of color. Each of it's large scales were different; red, blue, purple, yellow, green and orange; an amazing sight to behold.

"Why does it not attack?" Merry said nervously. "What does it want?"

"I know not, but if it makes a move we shall strike from both sides," Karl replied. "Pierce an eye with your thrown dagger and I will sever it's head from it's body."

"That will not be necessary," said a female voice. "Starflower will not harm you."

"It speaks," Karl cried. "This is evil wizardry! Stand ready my love."

"There is no wizardry here, it is only us," the voice replied. The dragon lowered it's head and out of nowhere a woman appeared, slid down it's sinuous neck and landed in front of them. She was naked, her skin a bright pink, her slim body of medium height with pert breasts and slim hips.

"From whence did you appear?" Merry asked. "We saw naught when the creature landed."

"You will see," the woman said, laughing. "Starflower, show the lady."

The dragon rolled on it's side presenting it's back to them. At the base of it's neck was a pink indentation the shape of a human lying flat with arms and legs outstretched. 

"I ride there," the woman said, gesturing. 

Merry noticed a fleshy protuberance on the woman's flat stomach the size of a tea rose. The woman saw her looking and smiled.

"That is my link to Starflower when we are joined. I see what she sees, feel what she feels. We are one."

She turned to pet the beast on it's nose and Karl and Merry saw the woman's back, arms and legs were colorfully scaled. She was a part of the dragon, truly a wondrous thing.

"Come closer. Starflower would like to meet you."

Lowering their weapons they warily approached the beast's head, it's vertical pupils pulsing a deep green. Massive fringed jaws opened revealing jagged teeth the length of sword blades. A deep red forked tongue shot out and licked Karl and Merry's faces, showering them with saliva.

"How sweet, Starflower likes you," the woman said happily. 

"Aren't we lucky," Karl grumbled, wiping his face with a handful of grass.

Merry poked him in the ribs, "Now be nice. They are trying to be friendly."

"I am Princess Merry of Westingfield," she continued. "And this is Prince Karl of Vard. Who might you be?"

"I am called Linni," the woman replied. "I am a Child of the Dragon."

A shadow passed over them. Starflower raised her head and bellowed. An answering cry came from far above as another dragon swooped down and landed beside her. They nuzzled each other, steam rising from their nostrils.

A figure detached from the dragons back, slid down it's scaly side and walked towards them. This person was male, his skin a darker pink, with colorful scales to match the dragon he rode.

"This is my mate Harabi," Linni said as they embraced and nuzzled. "These people are Princess Merry and Prince Karl. They are strangers in our land."

"Welcome to the Land of Dragons," Harabi said. "What brings you here? Our visitors are few, something frightens them away." He and Linni laughed and the dragons snorted as if enjoying the joke.

"We seek the Dancing Ground where my sisters and I travel every night. We meet our princes and enjoy ourselves until daybreak."

"You seemed to be enjoying yourselves a short time ago," Harabi said with a wink. "Linni and I watched you until she became curious and decided to investigate." 

"It was so exciting," Linni added. "Seldom have I seen mating with such intensity."

"It is the power of our love," Merry replied, sighing as Karl put his arm around her and drew her close.

"So alluring. So exciting," Linni said, her voice husky with arousal. A look passed between she and Harabi. "May we mate with you? It is our custom to mate with new friends and seal the bond between us."

Karl and Merry looked at one another. Their desire for each other temporarily satisfied, they wondered what delights these new lovers could bring. In answer, Karl picked Linni up and kissed her. Merry embraced Haribi, kissing and rubbing against him. They fell together on the soft grass.

***

Karl lay on his back as Linni explored his body. Her warm mouth and soft hands were everywhere, but always returned to his stiff cock, caressing and licking as he groaned in pleasure.

"So big, so strong." Linni purred. "Your body is like my dragons, hard and sinewy and this…" her tongue curled around his cock "is magnificent."

"Come and take a ride, it will be quite different from your dragon."

Linni straddled Karl, lowering herself as his cock head spread her pussy lips. Karl's sweat flowed from him as he resisted pulling her down, instead letting her ease onto it until she was comfortable. Moaning and whimpering, Linni lowered herself inch by inch, tossing her head in ecstasy until it was all the way in.

Karl caressed her breasts, rubbing the nipples with his thumbs, and then moving downward to grip her firm ass, the scales surprisingly soft to the touch. Linni leaned forward and they kissed, open mouthed and passionate. She wiggled her hips and Karl moaned; his stiffness enveloped in her silken tunnel. He kneaded her breasts again, then captured a nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue on the pebbled aureole. Moving her hips up and down, Linni moaned at the fullness of his thick cock in her pussy. 

Karl sucked on one nipple, and then the other as Linni rose higher on his cock before plunging back down, her pussy lips gripping the velvet head.

He clutched her ass and pulled her down harder on his cock, filling his mouth with her breast flesh. Legs entwined, they thrust against each other, gasping and moaning between passionate kisses.

Linni's body shook uncontrollably as her orgasm swelled within her, the sensation of being filled to bursting taking her breath away. Wailing in pleasure, she came repeatedly, joyfully impaling herself on Karl's thick cock until he groaned and pumped streams of hot cum deep in her pussy.

They rolled over and she wrapped her arms and legs around him, swaying back and forth, as she had seen Merry doing. Karl's rigidity never lessened

as he fucked hard into her. Uttering little shrieks, Linni rammed Karl's throbbing rod into her creamy wetness as another orgasm blazed through her spraying Karl's cock and thighs with her salty juices. He gasped and flooded her pussy with warm cum, pumping into her until his balls were empty. 

She relaxed her hold and sprawled on the grass; Karl rolled away and lay next to her. Linni arose and lay on top of him, sighing contentedly as they embraced.

"Such a wonderful lover you are young prince," she murmured, her head on his broad chest.

"As you are dragon child, your lovemaking sets me afire."

"You could teach our men many things about what arouses a woman."

"I have more to show you if you are interested."

Linni slid her sopping pussy along his hardening cock. 

"I am very interested."

Hugging and kissing, their lovemaking began anew.

***

Merry kissed Harabi as she rubbed his cock and he fingered her pussy. He lowered his head and sucked on her nipples as her hand spread precum over his throbbing rod. His body was so slim and delicate totally unlike Karl's massive frame and his touch was that of a butterfly alighting on a rose. It combined into raging lust that needed to be satisfied.

Harabi crawled between Merry's legs, raining kisses and licks on her belly and thighs, his hands kneading her round ass. She whimpered in delight as he sucked a nipple in his mouth and stroked her engorged clit with his fingers. Her hand circled his stiff cock slick with precum and masturbated him furiously. It was longer than Karl's but not as thick; no matter, she wanted it in her pussy now.

Seemingly reading her mind, Harabi plunged into her with a single thrust as she locked her ankles around his waist. He stroked into her with a rapid, jabbing rhythm, rabbit like, her pussy squeezing him in a velvet vise. Merry lifted her hips to meet his, wanting every inch of him in her. He bit her nipples and lashed them with his tongue as she moaned in delight. In one fluid motion, Merry rolled Harabi on his back, riding his cock while he sucked on her breasts. Pounding on the rigid flesh, the sensations of him driving deep in her gooey pussy were driving her wild.

Her impending orgasm shook her body and she felt as if her nerves were on fire. She impaled herself repeatedly on his throbbing cock, throwing her head back and screaming in ecstasy while orgasmic waves coursed through her. Harabi shuddered and pumped bursts of cum into her flooding pussy. She collapsed on top of him and they clung together panting from their exertions. Hearing Linni's cry of delight, they watched as Karl took her from behind, slamming into her until they came and slumped in the grass. 

Legs wobbly, Merry and Harabi walked to where Karl and Linni lay and sat next to them.

Linni smiled at Merry and said, "Your prince is a mighty lover, his techniques are superb."

"Your mate is equally skilled. I am well and truly satisfied."

The men simply smiled and hugged them.

For a moment they all were silent, then Linni crawled forward and lay her head in Merry's lap, Harabi did the same to Karl then they looked up expectantly.

Karl looked at Merry and arched an eyebrow. What is this?

Merry smiled and winked, then puckered her lips in a kiss. They wish to pleasure us.

They lay back in the grass holding hands as Linni's tongue slid into Merry's pussy and Harabi's warm mouth engulfed Karl's throbbing cock. They spread their legs wide giving their hosts easy access to their heated sex. Merry sighed as Linni licked her wet slit, and then wiggled a slippery finger in her new friend's asshole. Karl moaned as Harabi's head bobbed up and down, deep throating the thick cock in his mouth. 

Merry's hips rose, pushing her pussy into Linni's lips and tongue, grabbing her lover's head and grinding her sopping crotch on her face.

Karl shivered in ecstasy as Harabi's long tongue swirled around his cock and his hand caressed his balls. He gripped his lover's head and began fucking his mouth, thrusting deep into his throat.

Merry shrieked and came in Linni's mouth, filling it to overflowing with salty juices that she eagerly swallowed. Karl thrust once more in Harabi's mouth and with a loud cry flooded it with his cum, his lover sucking and swallowing every drop.

Merry and Karl sat up as Linni and Harabi turned around, wiggling their buttocks at them. Merry licked and sucked Linni's pussy while worming a long finger into her asshole. Karl eased his stiff cock into Harabi's tight hole, popping through the sphincter and deep into his ass, Harabi moaning with pleasure.

Merry devoured Linni's pussy while Karl pumped rapidly in Harabi's ass. Merry pushed two fingers in Linni's ass, reaming her while sucking on her clit. Karl stroked Harabi's throbbing cock in time with his thrusts, his hand slippery with precum.

Linni squealed and came in Merry's mouth as she nipped and sucked on her lover's clit, continuing as Linni came repeatedly. Harabi groaned as he came in Karl's hand and Karl blasted ropes of cum in his ass. Karl and Harabi came a second time and collapsed in the grass panting. He and Linni embraced, kissing passionately as Karl ate Linni's pussy and Merry sucked Harabi's cock.

They continued pleasuring each other in different combinations and positions until they were exhausted. Throughout the lovemaking, Karl noticed the dragons staring intently at them, eyes glowing as they nuzzled each other making purring noises like gigantic cats.

"This was immensely satisfying," Merry said delightedly. "You two are wonderful lovers. We have truly enjoyed ourselves."

"So have we," Linni replied. "We are so pleased you chose to mate with us. Now we are .bonded as friends."

"I care not that we missed the dancing," Karl added. "This was an experience too good to have missed."

"If you wish to be among your dance partners, Thistle and Starflower can take you there in a matter of moments," Harabi said.

"Will you accompany us? I would like you to meet my sisters and the other Princes."

"Alas the dragon's can carry only one. My sister and I will remain here." 

"Sister?" Merry said. "I thought you were mates. You were lovers."

"We are all those things and more," Linni laughed. "The Children of the Dragon are one with our steeds and each other. Thistle! Starflower!

Carry our friends to the Dancing Ground."

The dragons rolled on their sides. The four kissed and said farewell. Harabi and Linni settled Merry and Karl in the warm flesh of the creatures' backs, their clothing and weapons held tightly in the dragon's neck tendrils.

With a booming flap, the dragons soared into the air and sped away, Harabi and Linni waving goodbye.

***

"Are you enjoying the ride?" a voice said as they flew over the dark forest.

"Yes, it is so exciting," Merry replied. "I did not know you could speak Starflower."

"I can hear you plainly, my love," Karl said incredulously. "How is this possible?"

"We communicate with our voices and our minds," a deeper voice replied.

"Thistle, you can speak as well?" Karl asked. "This is truly incredible."

"We have many talents," Thistle replied. "A long time ago we and the two legged ones were mortal enemies. We joined to battle a threat from the dark reaches of space and became partners. Thus, The Children of the Dragons came to be. We can function independently, but combined we are virtually unstoppable."

"Thank you for sharing your lovemaking with us," Starflower said. "We mate but once a season, but it is pleasurable to experience your sensations. Our riders enjoyed it as well."

"There is your Dancing Ground," Thistle announced. "We will land a distance away so as not to frighten your companions."

"Land near the trees in the clearing," Karl said with a chuckle. "I want everyone to meet you."

"Oh yes, do," Merry added. "My sisters will be thrilled."

The dragons landed. Hearing the beat of wings, the Princesses and their Princes stopped their dancing and walked hesitantly toward the creatures. Karl and Merry slid down and stood naked next to their brilliantly colored friends.

"Come closer," Merry shouted. "They will not harm you. They are our friends."

While they dressed, the others peppered them with questions while stroking and petting the huge creatures. Thistle and Starflower purred happily at all the attention, tongues flicking out giving wet kisses.

Hazel led Cecilia to where she could feel the dragon's scales and claws. Thistle lowered his head so she could explore his scaly nostrils, fringed jaws and shiny fangs, then tenderly licked her face as she squealed in delight.

"Alas, we must depart," Thistle said. "Our riders grow lonely. Good fortune Karl and Merry."

"Till we meet again," Starflower added. "Visit us anytime; we four enjoy your company."

Mighty wings bit the air as the dragons took flight; circling the Dancing Ground then speeding into the distance and disappearing into the moonlit clouds.

"That was naught but a dramatic entrance," Danielle said admiringly.

"Karl and I meet the most interesting people when we travel," Merry replied. "Wherever we go we find enjoyment."

"All manner of enjoyments," Karl chuckled, hugging Merry and kissing her.

Carrying their weapons, they walked with the others to the Dancing Ground. 



Enchanted Twelve: Merry Ch. 03



Hello and welcome to my readers. Thank you for your votes, comments and e-mails on my previous stories. Here is another chapter of the Enchanted Twelve chain story. I invite you to read the previous chapters of Princess Merry and Prince Karl's adventures, as well as reading the contributions of my fellow authors to this chain. Enjoy.

------------------------------------------

'Skeletons and Moonbeams'

"Let us make haste," Merry cried. "I think I hear music. The Dancing Ground must be but a few strides away."

"I am not so sure," Karl replied. "We should have reached it by now. I fear we have again been diverted from our usual..."

"Karl. Look!" Merry exclaimed. "It is so beautiful."

They emerged from the forest into a moonlit glade, the moss and grass underfoot soft as any carpet. Pleasurable fragrances drifted on the gentle breezes of the night and they inhaled them deeply. Exotic flowers bloomed in scattered clumps, their pale faces turned toward the full moon's shimmering glow.

The silence was deafening; sounds of the forest did not penetrate the glades confines, only the gentle breezes. Wordlessly, Princess Merry and Prince Karl walked to the center of the glade and embraced.

"It is as if this is our special place," Merry said, her pink tongue tracing Karl's jaw line. "I have never loved you more than I do at this moment."

"My heart and my own," Karl replied, kissing her bare neck and shoulder. "I love and desire you forsaking all else."

Kissing and caressing they slowly removed their clothing, laying their weapons to one side as they sank to the ground, the moss cool on their naked bodies. Karl straddled her and they exchanged passionate kisses.

She sighed as his mouth engulfed one nipple, then the other, tongue swirling around the stiff flesh. Her hands floated over his muscular shoulders and down his broad chest, fingers tangling in his chest hair.

Raising her hips, Merry rubbed the velvet head of Karl's stiff cock on her wet pussy. He lunged forward and thrust deep in her as she moaned in pleasure. Her legs encircled his waist as their bodies moved in perfect rhythm, the sounds of their lovemaking echoing eerily in the glade.

Holding Merry's waist, Karl rolled on his back. Without missing a stroke, she bounced happily on his rigid flesh, glorying in his thick cock deep inside her. Leaning forward, she offered her breasts and he filled his mouth with her silken flesh, sucking greedily on her stiff nipples. Merry trembled as her orgasm suffused her body with delicious warmth. She impaled herself harder on Karl's thick meat, uttering little cries as she neared climax. Sensing she was on the verge of cumming, Karl gripped her ass cheeks and, with a guttural moan, spurted jets of cum into her gripping pussy. Feeling Karl's release, Merry shrieked and erupted in orgasm, bathing Karl's cock and thighs in a torrent of warm juices. They both came a second time and lay exhausted on the cool moss.

***

Karl and Merry were instantly alert when a twig snapped, the sound loud as a door slamming in the stillness. Scrambling for their weapons, their eyes widened when a hideous apparition appeared as if by magic from the darkness.

A skeleton rider on a skeleton horse trotted into the glade, bones gleaming in the moonlight. Merry barely stifled a squeal of fear as Karl pushed her behind him; his eyes were on the short sword the rider carried.

The creature waved it's sword menacingly. "How dare you Fleshlings sully the Glade of the Moon Goddess with your base carnality?" said a deep male voice as the skulls jaw moved. "You will pay dearly for violating this sacred ground."

Karl's hand tightened on Thunderbolt's hilt. "Have a care whatever you are," he rumbled. "No collection of soup bones threatens my Princess. Draw nearer and I shall rend you asunder."

"What spirited Fleshlings the Goddess has sent us for our amusement," said a female voice behind them. "They will be fine sport this night."

Merry whirled to see another skeletal horse and armed rider entering the glade. She dropped into a fighting crouch, Snake Fang at the ready.

"You will find us much more than ready sport," she purred. "Come closer.

My Prince and I will scatter you to the four winds."

The skeleton riders dismounted, paused for a moment and moved forward. Steel flashed and the battle joined.

***

Karl blocked the skeletons lunging thrust, sparks flying as his opponent recovered. It approached again more warily, sword blade shimmering as it cut savagely at Karl's chest. The swords rang together as Karl parried the blow, Thunderbolt's pommel grazing the grinning skull as it staggered back.

"You are a worthy opponent indeed," the skeleton said. "But we fully intend to punish you for your trespass."

"We meant no harm," Karl replied. "We were merely resting from our travels. Who is this Moon Goddess you speak of?"

"It is she who gave to us The Gift. She watches over us in our daily lives.

Prepares a table from which we sup. She is our guiding star. Our future. Our destiny."

It lunged again, the blow directed at Karl's legs. He sidestepped and as the creature overbalanced and fell forward, he struck it's shoulders with the flat of his sword knocking it sprawling. In a flash, he stamped on the bony hand holding the sword, Thunderbolt's point hovering above the creature's neck.

"I have you now," Karl growled. "Do you yield or must I carve you like a haunch of beef?"

"I yield," the creature replied, relaxing it's grip on it's sword. "I am well and truly bested. You are indeed a master swordsman Fleshling. I await your pleasure."

"You also fought well," Karl said amiably, "Stand and let us talk." He offered his hand to help the creature up and gripped flesh, not bone.

***

"You presume to fight me with that sliver?" the skeleton laughed as it dismounted and stalked towards Merry. "This will be a quick fight indeed."

"Come closer and see how wrong you are," Merry snarled. "Snake Fang wishes to taste bone."

"Have at it then," the creature cried, striking at Merry's chest. A second later, it reeled back from Merry's riposte, barely blocking her return thrust.

Sparks flew as sword and dagger clashed repeatedly. The Royal Armorer had forged Merry's fighting dagger from the finest steel, and then taught her how to defend herself against a variety of weapons. It was a surreal encounter in the moonlit glade, a naked woman battling a gleaming skeleton, blades winking in the unearthly light. Blow countered blow until Merry saw an opening and kicked at a bony knee. The creature's leg collapsed under it and it fell heavily to the ground. 

Merry leapt on her opponent without thinking, her ingrained training coming to the fore. Wresting the sword from her attackers grip, she held her dagger to it's neck, suddenly realizing she felt warm flesh not hard bone.

"Do you yield?" she said. "I do not wish to kill you. We meant no harm to your sacred place."

"I yield," the skeleton replied. "By the Teats of the Goddess you fight well Fleshling. I am not often bested in combat, especially by my own sex."

Perplexed, Merry opened her mouth to ask a question when the creature sat up and leaned forward. Merry felt warm lips and firm breasts against hers as the creature moved sensuously between her legs. She was too curious to be frightened by this turn of events.

"How can this be?" she asked wonderingly. "I cannot see your body yet I can feel you?"

"Is this better?" the skeleton replied. The air blurred and Merry found herself straddling a beautiful woman. Her skin was stark white, her eyes pink, her rosy nipples standing proud. She smiled at Merry and wriggled beneath her.

"First our fight, now we are with one another," she continued. "I am aroused beyond measure. Do you lay with your own sex?"

Merry felt aroused as well. "Yes," she replied. "I enjoy the attentions of both."

"As do I," the woman said, cupping Merry's breasts and rubbing her palms on the erect nipples. "Let us make love."

Merry responded by kissing her deeply as their legs entwined. They rubbed their pubic mounds together as their hands roamed. Warm mouths and soft tongues engulfed silky flesh; long fingers entered moist pussies and stroked throbbing clits. Backs arching they fucked each other until they both shuddered in climax, their cries of ecstasy muffled in a burning kiss. Mary turned and offered her dripping slit to the woman as she dove between creamy thighs, licking and sucking. She jerked and moaned as the woman responded in kind and their lovemaking began anew.

***

Karl's opponent became visible, his skin the color of polished marble. He was ruggedly handsome, tall and muscular. "We seldom battle intruders," he chuckled. "More often than not our very appearance frightens most away. You two are quite brave to stand against us."

Karl offered his hand and they shook solemnly. "I am Prince Karl of Vard. My betrothed is Princess Merry of Westingfield. How do I call you?"

"I am Scapulus. My mate is Radia. We dwell in the Unseen City below us here."

"You live beneath the ground?" Karl asked wonderingly. "Why do you not dwell in the fresh air and sunshine?"

"There was a time when we did so," Scapulus began. "Then The Hunters appeared among us. No one knows from whence they came but they began to kill and devour us one by one. They moved with such stealth and swiftness it was impossible to fight against them. We dared not leave our homes to find food for fear of attack and we began to starve. Darkness offered us concealment, thus we rested during the day and ventured out at night to gather what nourishment we could.

Then one night an elder found a cavern large enough to contain us all, so we moved there and began a life underground. From time to time, we killed a Hunter and our Learned Ones studied them. They discovered our enemies relied on sight to stalk their prey and their sense of smell was poor. They prepared an Invisibility Potion so we could sally forth in daylight. Not all could tolerate it's effects and many died, however those that lived reclaimed our lands from the Hunters and exterminated them."

"So why did you not return to the surface once the threat was gone?" Karl asked.

"By then our way of life was too ingrained, besides the potion rendered us unable to tolerate sunlight for long periods. We learn almost from birth how to control our invisibility and reveal our skeletons to frighten intruders away. It works well and we are left alone."

Cries and moans interrupted Scapulus' tale and they both turned to see Merry and Radia making passionate love.

"It would seem our women are becoming close friends," Karl said with a grin. "Shall we join them?" Scapulus nodded and they walked to where the women lay entwined, feasting on each other's pussies.

Merry squealed in delight as a cock slid in her pussy and the woman continued licking her clit. A second later Karl's thick cock plunged under her very nose into the pussy Merry was eating. She continued to lick and suck the woman's love button as the strangers cock pounded into her and

Karl fucked the woman with his usual intensity.

Grunts, squeals, moans and the slap of flesh on flesh filled the glade as their lovemaking intensified and their orgasms boiled within them. The men's cocks drove faster and deeper and the women's licks and sucks grew more frantic as they felt themselves beginning to cum.

Radia erupted first, shrieking in delight from the dual sensations; then Merry's climax shook her as they filled each others mouth's with the salty fluids that gushed around the cocks still working in their pussies. Karl thrust his cock deep into Radia's tight pussy, groaning as he filled her velvet folds with his hot cum. Simultaneously, Scapulus jetted his cum deep in Merry's clutching wetness, gasping in his release.

They continued to pleasure each other until each of the women had another climax and they lay in a heap recovering from the intense lovemaking.

"Merry, this is my mate Radia," Scapulus said. "Radia, this is Princess Merry of Westingfield. And the man who pleasured you so well is Prince Karl of Vard."

"So nice to meet you both," Radia replied, snuggling against Merry. "I don't believe I have ever received a more exciting and satisfying introduction. Welcome to our land." She paused, "How is it you two traveled this way? Where were you bound?"

"We seek my sisters and their Princes at the Dancing Ground," Merry explained. "We travel there each night to dance the night away, and then return to our rooms in Castle Westingfield. We are compelled to do so and I know not why."

"I know not why we continue to be deviated from our chosen path either," Karl added. "I suspect some malevolent sorcery is at work."

"No matter," Scapulus said heartily. "We are now friends. Will you accompany us to our home for dinner? We have savory meat mushrooms and spicy lichen that you must try."

"Alas we cannot," Merry said sadly. "Whatever compels us to dance each night does not allow for continued deviation from our course." She thought for a moment. "However, how is it that my Prince and I continue to have adventures on our way to the dance, and yet always arrive in time for the first quadrilles? It is a puzzle of the most confusing sort."

As they dressed and collected their weapons, Radia said "If you must go we can take you there." She whistled and two skeletal horses trotted out from the woods, changing into pure white with shining pink eyes.

"Our steeds also partake of the potion," she continued, anticipating the question. "So they may take part in our defensive masquerade, and yet serve us in many other ways."

Scapulus and Radia leapt easily onto their mounts, Merry joined Scapulus, Karl joined Radia. The horses galloped through the near-blackness of the forest as if running in a sun-lit meadow.

"It is so dark," Merry said in a trembling voice. "How can you ride so fast?"

"It is the potion," Scapulus laughed. "It increases ones night vision tenfold so we can live underground more easily. To our eyes this is but a cloudy day."

Karl held on to Radia as they galloped among the trees. He also felt fear as they rushed through the dark forest, an emotion he seldom experienced which made it even more terrifying. People of Vard do not fear anyone or anything , he admonished himself. Still he shut his eyes and buried his face in Radia's white blonde hair.

"There is your Dancing Ground." Radia cried triumphantly. "I was positive our steeds would find it."

"Do you choose to dismount here?" Scapulus asked. "We do not wish to frighten your companions."

Merry and Karl exchanged glances and winks.

"There should be no difficulty if we continue in," Merry said, barely stifling a giggle. "There is one favor I would ask..."

***

The Princesses and their Princes stood in little groups waiting for the dance to begin, chatting amiably as the musicians tuned their instruments. All conversation stopped when first one, and then another skeletal horse and rider entered the clearing

"Ahhhh...they are foul demons," Aurelia cried. "We are surely doomed."

"Wait a moment," said Hazel. "Is that not Merry and Karl with them?"

"They have been captured," Violet wailed. "The fiends possess their souls."

"They appear happy to me," Robin observed. "Look, they're dismounting." She shook her head in wonderment, "First dragons, now this."

There was a collective gasp as Scapulus and Radia materialized along with their horses. They dismounted with Merry and Karl as the dancers approached, marveling at this new phenomenon.

"Is there no end to the surprises you bring to us?" Aurelia said. "You two have the most amazing adventures."

"Merry seems to attract them," Karl jibed as she poked him in the ribs.

Introductions were made, the guests were welcomed and conversations flowed until the orchestra struck up the first tune of the evening.

"Will you join us?" Merry asked. "We four will have the first dance."

"We best be on our way," Radia answered. She cupped her breasts and smiled, "I don't think we would fit in among all this finery."

"We will go nude as well if that will make you more comfortable," Karl said and Merry nodded in agreement.

"You are very kind," Scapulus replied, "But we must go. Morning is but hours away and we must gather food."

After hugging and kissing their new friends, Scapulus and Radia whistled for their horses and sprang on their backs. Their flesh disappeared and they were skeletons again.

"May the Goddess of the Moon keep you from harm," Scapulus cried.

"Till we meet again," Radia added.

They whirled and galloped into the night.

***

"It is a remarkable world we live in," Karl mused as they joined the others for the first dance.

"It seems to be ours alone my Prince. Why is that I wonder?"

"I know not but that I love you, and if these wonderments be a part, then so be it."

"Is it any wonder I love you so?" Merry laughed.

The music swelled and they danced away.

End. 



Enchanted Twelve: Quinn ch. 01



"Anne Aurora Westingfield! Are you naked?" 

Her oldest sister's voice interrupted her day dreaming. 

"Don't call me that!"

Danielle sighed and said "Quinn. Are you naked?"

Quinn tucked her bare, albeit covered by a half-healed bruise on her shin and a scraped knee, but nonetheless naked, back under the cloak she was wearing. 

"No, of course not. See?" Quinn pulled aside the edge of the patched cloak. Her sister leaned around the boatman's body and saw the bottom of the garment just above Quinn's knee. 

"You might as well be naked, Quinn! What happened to the dress you were supposed to put on?" 

"I was reading and I lost track of time. You said we had to go right then and I just grabbed my cloak and my satchel and ran down the steps to meet you," Quinn answered.

"And what's in that satchel that was more important than your dress?"

Quinn rummaged around in the worn leather bag at her feet. "A book I found on the top shelf of the library, a couple of candles and ..." Her voice trailed off as she bent down to the bag again. " Apples," she said with a smile, holding one up in the moonlight.

Danielle shook her head and turned her attention back to the mouth of the man guiding the boat down the gently flowing river. Quinn trailed her fingers in the water, watching the moon reflected in the dark water ahead. The boat seemed to be sailing to the moon. She smiled at the thought. 

The boat floated to the dock and bumped gently against the wooden planks. The boatman helped the sisters step onto the boardwalk leading up to the castle. A uniformed guard bowed to the princesses as he opened the door. The princesses walked through the halls of the castle.

Quinn blinked in the bright light of thousands of candles reflected in the many mirrors hung on the walls of the ballroom. The first few nights she'd sat in the corner of the vast room, watching her sisters dance all night. No one ever asked her to dance, or paid much attention to her at all. Last night she'd left the ballroom and began to explore the castle. 

It was quite an interesting place. She'd found a staircase leading up to the gallery where she'd spent a good portion of the night watching her sisters pair off with their princes. Quinn had listened to the sighs and rustling of clothing as the couples drifted off the dance floor and into the rooms adjoining it. 

Quinn climbed the steps to the upper floor and opened a door she hadn't noticed before. Another set of stairs, much narrower and darker than the ones she'd just left, awaited her. She took a candle from her bag and lit it with one of the candles on a nearby table. 

She began climbing the steps, stopping once to brush cobwebs from her face. The stairs circled up and up for what seemed to Quinn to be miles. At last she reached the top where a small door was slightly open. Quinn went through the small door, short enough that she bumped her head as she passed through.

She found herself on one of the turrets of the castle. She peeped over the parapet. Wispy mists of pale grey fog surrounded the castle. Quinn looked up. A silvery crescent moon floated in the sea of twinkling stars. Her candle guttered and went out in the cool breeze. 

"Rats!" Quinn turned to go back down the steps to relight her candle. 

"Ooof! Quinn! Watch where you're going! You almost pushed me over the wall!" 

"Jerome!" Quinn cried. She would have recognized his voice anywhere. Jerome was one of the stewards of her father's castle. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Jerome replied. "I spent all day riding from your father's most distant property. I put my horse away, turned around and bumped into you. Where are we?"

"I'm not exactly sure. A castle someplace. Danielle wakes us up and we all come here. The other sisters dance and well, um, do other things. I just watched them the first night and now I..."

"The first night? Quinn, how long have you been coming here?" Jerome's tone was a mixture of surprise and horror. 

"It's been days. Since you left, I think," Quinn replied. She shivered in the cool night air and wrapped her cloak more securely.

"You're cold. Let's go down where it's warmer. We can see if we can get this whole thing straightened out later." Jerome took her hand and led her over to the door she'd entered. He tugged on the handle, but nothing happened.

"Quinn, the door is locked. Where's the key?"

"Key? I don't have a key. It was open when I came up here." 

Jerome pushed and pulled on the handle, pounded on the door and yelled to no avail. The door remained shut and no one came up the stairs to rescue them. 

"It appears we are to remain here until someone notices you didn't return to the ballroom."

"Oh. That could be a very long time. No one knows I'm up here." 

"Surely someone will miss you, Quinn."

"No, I don't think so. They were all very... um... b-b-busy when I left." Quinn's teeth began to chatter.

"We'll worry about that later. Right now, we need to get you warm." Jerome picked up the bundle from his feet and pulled out a tattered blanket. "It's not much, but it should help. Come here."

Jerome draped the blanket over Quinn's shoulders. "Warmer?" 

"Oh, yes. But what about you? Aren't you cold, too?"

"A little, but I'll be fine."

"Here," Quinn said, opening up the blanket and tugging Jerome close to her. "We can share."

"No, Quinn. That wouldn't be proper. You're a princess of the realm and I am but a poor steward, and a foundling at that." 

"Jerome, you are so much more than that. You are my best friend. And you shouldn't be cold when there's a perfectly good blanket we can share. Look around you. We're all alone. Who's going to know if my behavior is proper or not? Besides, I'm sure they're all used to my behavior by now. I have a very hard time being a proper princess. Most of the time I don't even try anymore."

"But still ..." Jerome protested. 

"No," Quinn interrupted. "Please share the blanket. We'll both be much warmer, you know."

Quinn opened the blanket and Jerome stepped reluctantly into its warmth, adjusting the folds to envelope them both.

"Isn't this better?" Quinn murmured. 

"Yes," Jerome replied. "Now, tell me more about this place."

"I don't know much more than I've already said. Danielle wakes me in the middle of the night. I change into my best dress and dancing slippers. Well, not tonight, but all the other nights..."

"Surely you have something on under that cloak." Jerome's voice sounded vaguely shocked.

"Of course, I have something on. Why do people keep asking me that?" Quinn grumbled.

"I suppose even you wouldn't leave the castle without wearing a dress." Jerome chuckled at the thought. 

"Um. I didn't say anything about a dress. I am wearing clothes, just not a dress." Quinn admitted.

"Quinn," Jerome said with a sigh. "Perhaps we had better change the subject. There are some things that a man does not need to know about a princess, especially in the situation we find ourselves." 

"Oh." A small voice answered. "I will tell you if it is important to you."

"No," Jerome said firmly. "Tell me about what else happens."

"Everyone dances. Well, everyone but me..." 

"Why don't you dance?" 

"Everyone has a prince there. Everyone but me. So I just sat and watched." Quinn answered. 

"No one asked you to dance?"

"No," Quinn answered, "and besides, I can't dance." Her voice trailed off into a soft, barely audible mumble.

"What? Of course you can dance. All of your sisters can dance. They all learned years ago." Jerome answered.

"Yes," Quinn said. "They all learned. I didn't."

"Why ever not?" Jerome asked in astonishment.

"I was always too busy learning other things."

"What other things? I should think dancing would be a very important skill for a princess to have."

"Now, perhaps, but when my sisters were learning, I was more interested in other things."

"Such as..." Jerome prompted.

"Oh, just things."

"Quinn. What things? You can tell me."

Quinn shrugged her shoulders but said nothing.

"Please. I really want to know."

"If you must know, I was learning to climb trees and shoot arrows and ride a horse and sword play."

"Quinn, those are all things I taught you. Why didn't you say something? We could have postponed those things. They were just for amusement. They could have waited."

"Oh, no! They were very important to me. I liked doing those things. I may not know how to dance, but I am very good at all those other things."

"Except for the swordplay," Jerome chuckled. "I should know. I have the scar to prove it, too."

Quinn turned inside the sheltering warmth of the blanket, and his arms, to face Jerome. "That really wasn't my fault, you know."

"Quinn, you almost cut my head off with your father's sword," he chuckled. This was an old argument, one they'd replayed many times. 

"I was trying to dub thee a knight of the realm. I didn't realize the sword was so sharp. Does it still hurt?" she asked softly, lightly tracing her fingers over the faded red line. 

"No, Quinn. It doesn't hurt. While you were sewing it up, then, yes, it did hurt." Jerome smiled down at her.

"Both of us were crying by the time I'd finished that last stitch, but I couldn't let Papa know. I was never, ever supposed to touch his swords." 

"A very wise man, your father." 

"With a little more practice, I could have done it." Quinn said.

"Quinn, the sword was taller than you were. And speaking of practice, Princess, you really should know how to dance. I could teach you to dance. Your place is down there with your sisters, finding your prince."

Something seems to think my place is here with you, she thought to herself. To Jerome she simply said, "Ah, but we need music."

"Ah," Jerome mocked, "but listen." Strains of a lilting melody could be heard drifting around the tower parapets. 

"Oh, where did the music come from?" Quinn asked.

"I'm not sure. Perhaps the wind shifted and we can hear the musicians playing in the ballroom."

"Or perhaps it's magic," whispered Quinn.

"I don't normally believe in magic," Jerome replied, tugging the blanket from Quinn's shoulders and taking her hand, "but tonight seems the perfect time for magic."

"So, Princess. Let's teach you to dance. That hand goes on my shoulder and I'll put my hand here." Jerome guided her hand into the proper position. "And this one," gently squeezed the hand he'd been holding, "is perfect right where it is." More than you'll ever know, princess, he thought to himself.

Quinn looked up at Jerome and smiled. "This part I can do. It's all the rest that I don't have a clue about."

"There isn't any 'rest', Quinn. It's simply you and me, enjoying the music. Just relax and move where I guide you." 

"Like this?" Quinn asked anxiously. "I don't think I'm doing it right."

"You are doing fine. Just relax a little." They danced. Quinn moved awkwardly at first and then more gracefully as she learned the steps. As the music changed, she stumbled, stepping onto Jerome's foot.

"Ow, Quinn! That hurt."

"I'm so sorry. I told you I was no good at this. And these boots make it even harder." 

Jerome looked down at Quinn's feet, shod in worn boots, probably originally belonging to a page from the castle. "What happened to those delicate dancing slippers princesses are supposed to wear to the ball?" 

"Mine wore out that first night. Oh, not from dancing. From climbing stone stairs and that apple tree right outside my window."

"Apple tree? No, please don't tell me. I'm certainly better off not knowing any more." He took a closer look at Quinn's feet. "Hey! Are those my old boots?"

Quinn blushed, her pink cheeks rosy even in the moonlight. "They were too big for the page you gave them to, and they fit me perfectly so I kept them." 

"Quinn. Quinn. Quinn. What am I going to do with you?" Jerome asked, shaking his head while smiling all the while.

You could kiss me, Quinn thought and then immediately stopped, surprised at even the idea of wanting a kiss from Jerome.  

"Why'd you stop, Quinn? You were doing so well." 

"I think maybe I'm getting dizzy from all the dancing. It is much harder than it looks. Maybe we can take a little rest." Quinn dropped her hand from Jerome's shoulder but didn't let go of the hand she'd been holding. 

"Of course. I didn't realize..." Jerome led them back to a sheltered corner of the tower, stopping to pick up the blanket, but keeping his hold on Quinn's hand. "Here. It's out of the wind. You can sit on the blanket. You should be nice and warm." He helped Quinn settle on the blanket, her back against the curved stone walls of the turret, folding her cloak over her bare legs. He started to stand then, but Quinn tugged his hand.

"Aren't you going to sit down with me?" she asked, patting the wool with her free hand. "There's plenty of room."

"No, Princess. It wouldn't be proper."

"Proper? Nothing about these evenings has been 'proper'. You're my friend, Jerome, and I'd really like for you to sit with me." 

"Very well, Quinn. But just for tonight. We cannot do this once you return to your father's castle." Jerome sat stiffly on the edge of the blanket as far away from Quinn as he could manage.

"You could sit a bit closer." 

"No, Quinn," Jerome said softly, "I don't think I can." 

"Oh," said Quinn. "Well, then," she continued, "I've got some ..." Quinn began as she leaned across Jerome to tug at the handle of her worn leather satchel. Her legs became entangled in the folds of her cloak and she tumbled into Jerome's lap. 

"Quinn," Jerome said ever so slowly and quietly. "What are you doing?" His eyes were drawn to the sight of Quinn's legs, bared past her knees and just inches from his hand. The hand he raised and then stilled, a hair's breadth from actually touching her skin.

Quinn's voice was barely audible as she replied. "I had some apples in my satchel. I wanted to share them with you." 

"Ah. The same ones you climbed the tree for, I suppose. Here," he said, tugging the arm holding the satchel away from him and back to her place beside him on the blanket. "Better?"

"Yes, thank you," she replied, moving a little closer to him and pulling two apples from the satchel. "One for you and one for me," she said. Quinn handed the larger of the two apples to Jerome and kept the smaller one for herself. "Oh," she said, holding her apple to the moonlight and then tossing it aside. "There are worms all over mine. Oh, well. I wasn't really hungry." The grumbling from her stomach showed this for the lie it was.

"Not hungry, Quinn? I could have heard your stomach demanding that apple from across the castle. Here. Take mine." He handed his apple to Quinn. 

"We could share." Quinn suggested.

"But I have no knife to slice it with," Jerome said.

"Jerome, we're friends. We can take turns taking a bite." She took a small bite of the apple and handed it to Jerome. 

Jerome took the apple, his mouth watering, not from the scent of the ripe, red apple, but from the sight of her lips, glistening with apple juice in the moonlight. Jerome sighed to himself and carefully turned the apple away from the place her mouth had touched and bit into the fruit. He put the apple back into Quinn's outstretched fingers. 

Quinn, who had watched Jerome shyly as he bit, turned the apple until the place where he had bitten into the apple, was clearly visible and put her mouth right there, imagining for just a moment that she could feel the imprint of his mouth on hers.

Jerome watched as Quinn licked the last drops of sweet apple juice from her fingertips. He lingered on the sight for much longer than he should have, mesmerized by the sight of her tongue sliding from between her teeth. He reluctantly pulled his gaze from her fingers. He cleared his throat, his mouth suddenly dry.

"Another dance, Princess?" he asked.

Quinn listened for a moment. "I don't hear any music. I'm rather tired, too. Perhaps we should sit this one out." Quinn yawned, her head drooping onto Jerome's shoulder. 

"Sorry," Quinn said, sitting back up. "I'm just so sleepy all of a sudden." 

"It is fine, Quinn. Please." Jerome patted his shoulder. "We're both tired and I have a feeling we're going to be here until morning." Jerome surveyed the night sky. "That's a few hours from now. We might as well both sleep until then."

Quinn put her head back on his shoulder and sighed. "This is so nice."  I want to stay here forever, she thought. She yawned once again and closed her eyes. 

The night was still and quiet around them. She snuggled closer to him. Her cloak slid from her bare legs and Jerome smiled when he recognized her attire as one of his tunics. The one the washer woman swore he'd lost. He straightened her cloak and gathered the blanket more securely around them. He brushed the hair from Quinn's cheek, rested his head against the smooth stones of the wall and closed his eyes.

Quinn did not sleep, but listened to the sound of his breathing, his heartbeat. Her breathing, her heartbeat gradually changed until they matched his. She felt his lips, very soft and tentative, brushing her cheek. Quinn turned her face to his, anticipating his kiss at long last.

"Wake up, sleepyhead. It's almost dawn. I think we should try that door again." Jerome's voice broke the silence. No, not silence, Quinn thought. She could hear the song of early morning birds far off in the distance.

"Jerome," Quinn said, stretching and yawning. "I was having the most wonderful dream."

"Sh! Later, Quinn. I think I heard the door opening. We need to get moving before it closes again."

Jerome stood and helped Quinn to her feet. They folded the blanket and tucked it into Quinn's satchel. Jerome took the leather bag from her.

"I can carry it, you know," she protested.

"Yes, I know. But you don't have to," he replied.

They walked over to the door which was now standing open. Quinn and Jerome made their way carefully and quietly down the stairs and through the ballroom, not wanting to break the silence of the castle. They encountered several of her sisters coming out of various rooms adjoining the ballroom. 

The sisters talked to their escorts in low tones as they made their way down to the pier. Quinn could hear the murmur of voices, but couldn't hear what was being said. She found Danielle waiting in her boat along with the boatman. Jerome handed the satchel to him and helped Quinn step into the boat. When Quinn was seated, the boatman poled the boat away from the dock.

"Wait for Jerome!" Quinn cried, rising from her seat on the slowly moving boat. Danielle grabbed her hand and pulled her back down.

"It is fine, Princess. I'll make my way back to your father's castle." Jerome smiled at Quinn. "Oh, and Princess..." he called.

"Yes, Jerome?" Quinn asked.

"It was wonderful, Quinn, but it wasn't a dream." 



Enchanted Twelve: Quinn Ch. 02



Quinn watched the dancers from her usual seat in the gallery and counted along with the music. One. Two. Three. She supposed she could be down there dancing tonight - thanks to Jerome's patient help, she now knew how - but she still would rather be an observer to all the dancing this evening. When Jerome finished dancing with Angelina, she thought and then bolted upright, shocked by what she was seeing. Since when was Jerome dancing with anyone, let alone a Royal Princess! If he was going to dance with anyone, it should be her! 

Jerome swirled and twirled Angelina across the dance floor and into the shadows ringing the ballroom. Jerome's head bent down to kiss Angelina's mouth as they disappeared into the dimness. Quinn leaned far over the balcony railing, trying to get one last glimpse of the two dancers as they vanished into a secluded corner.

"Jerome," she called softly. She leaned out even farther trying to see where they'd gone. She felt her leather soles of her new dancing slippers slide out from under her. She was seconds away from tumbling over the balcony railing onto the ballroom floor far below her. 

"Quinn! Be careful!" She felt strong arms grab her waist and pull her none too gently from the railing. "You could have broken your neck!"

She knew that voice and that particular tone of exasperation - she'd been hearing it for as long as she could remember. "Jerome!" She turned and smiled up at him. "You're not dancing with Angelina."

"Of course not, Princess. I wouldn't dare." Jerome's voice sounded confused and vaguely shocked at the possibility of this. You're the only princess I'd want to hold in my arms as we danced and not down on that crowded dance floor either.  He thought all this but said only "No, Quinn."

"But I saw you, or someone who looks just like you dancing just a minute ago." Quinn studied Jerome's face carefully. 

"It couldn't have been me. I just got here. I ran up the steps just in time to see you almost fall. If I hadn't grabbed you..." Jerome shuddered to think of what might have happened then. Jerome let his hands linger for just a moment more and then dropped them from Quinn's waist and stepped back from here.

"You look pretty tonight, Quinn." Jerome complimented.  Pretty enough to kiss and ...

"Do I really?" Quinn asked tentatively. She looked down at her dancing slippers peeping out from the hem of her ball gown. She shouldn't feel shy. After all, she'd known Jerome her entire life, but tonight was different somehow. Jerome was different. She was different. 

"Yes, Quinn. You look very pretty. Why aren't you down there dancing this evening? You no longer have any reason not to." 

I have one reason. I wouldn't be dancing with you. Quinn did not speak those words. She simply shook her head and said, "No, I don't think so. Do you know what I'd like to do tonight, Jerome?"

"Does it involve swords?" he smiled down at her.

"I would like to go to a quiet place and talk with you. I'd like to go back up to the top of the tower."

"Are you sure, Quinn? There is still time to dance. The music plays even as we speak," Jerome asked.

"I had such a good time there last night, Jerome. Would you go with me? Please?"

"Of course, Princess. The steps are through this door. Right?" he asked, opening the door they'd used the night before.

"It's not as dark as I remember it, but I still wish I had a candle."

"You don't have one in that satchel of yours?" teased Jerome.

"No," Quinn muttered. "I was so busy getting ready, and getting into this dress, I forgot to bring it." 

"It doesn't matter, Quinn. I think I see one on this table by the door. Just a minute and perhaps we'll have some light." 

"Table? There wasn't a table here last night." 

A small flame flickered into life. Jerome held up the candle. "Quinn, this is obviously not the stairs. Let's take this light and find the right door." 

As they turned to go, they both felt the rush of air and heard the soft thud as the door closed in front of them. Quinn reached out to turn the knob, only to discover that there was no knob. Indeed, there was no door. The wall in front of them was perfectly smooth with no sign of the door they'd used just minutes before.

"That's certainly a surprise," remarked Jerome. "Here. Hold this while I look for the door." 

"Jerome, I don't think there is a door," Quinn said, raising the candle to shine as much light as possible near Jerome's hands as he tapped his way over the wall. 

"Quinn," Jerome said, "we just walked through it. There must be a door."

"No. This is an enchanted castle. The door to the tower was enchanted last night. The door to this room is enchanted tonight."

"Quinn," Jerome began.

"And it is the same door, the right door. It just leads to different places." Quinn continued.

"That's impossible."

"No, that's magic, Jerome."

 No, Quinn, you're the real magic. "Princess, perhaps you're right. We seem to be stuck here for the evening, but, at least, it's much warmer than last night's adventure. Let's light a few more candles and explore this place." 

The additional candlelight revealed a cozy room, lined with bookshelves. Two comfortable chairs were angled in front of the fireplace whose coals began to glow, small flames flickering into life as they watched.

"Oh," Quinn smiled as she walked around the room; her fingertips brushing leather bound spines of books as she made her way around the room. "I could spend days in this room. Look at all the books!"

"Princess, perhaps you chose your words more carefully. After all, since there is no door, we may very well be spending days in here." 

"There's a window, Jerome. We could always climb down if we need to."

"What's out the window, Quinn? That could be important."

Quinn looked out the window. "Let's see. Stars. Countless stars, Jerome."

"Quinn, look down. If we have to climb out, what's below us will be much more important." 

Quinn leaned out the window and peered into the darkness. "Flower beds and a few small bushes. And it's not as far down as my window in the castle at home. We should have no trouble climbing down."

"Quinn, with you, I've learned there's always trouble," Jerome muttered to himself.

"Just stars and that same fog we saw last night and ..." Quinn's voice dropped to an awed whisper. "Dragons!"

"Well, if there's anyplace you'd be likely to see dragons, it's here." 

"No. No. No. Real live dragons! Come and look, Jerome!" She beckoned him over to the window."

"Quinn, there are no such things as dragons. It's probably just night birds. Owls. I'll look if it makes you happy." 

"Dragons!" Jerome stared in amazement. Silhouetted against that silvery mist were two great beasts. Definitely dragons, their wings outstretched as they glided in circles, drawing nearer and nearer to the castle. "Well, if there was ever a place you find dragons, it would be this place. It seems to be surrounded by magic."

"Jerome, someone's riding them! A man on that one and I think that's my sister, Merry, on the other. Oooh, I'd love to ride a dragon!"

They watched as the two dragons and their riders disappeared around the corner of the castle, out of sight. 

"I wonder where they went. And how Merry found those dragons in the first place."

"Perhaps you could ask her in the morning, Princess. And as far as the riding goes, remember the goat?"

"Jerome, I was five! No one said I couldn't ride it." 

"I think the goat made it abundantly clear." Jerome laughed.

"Oh, yes. I was bruised for weeks." Quinn smiled and touched her bottom, remembering the injury to her dignity.

"That was probably due more to Marta. She was very protective of her goats," Jerome said with a laugh.

Quinn looked hopefully at the door. "It's still not open. I was hoping to go back up there. It was so quiet and peaceful."

"It's quiet and peaceful right here, Quinn. The fire's burning nicely now. Why don't you curl up in one of those chairs and get some rest? I'll wake you if the door opens."

"I don't want to sleep, but with all these books, surely I can find something interesting to read."

A quiet rustling noise caught their attention. An open book lay on a table by one of the chairs; its pages slowly turning as if blown by an unfelt breeze.

"That certainly looks interesting. Let's see." Quinn crossed over to the book but Jerome's hand caught hers just as she was about to touch the volume.

"Careful, Princess. It could be bewitched," Jerome cautioned.

"Everything is bewitched here, Jerome. Nothing has harmed us. This book will not either."

"Let me, please," Jerome insisted. The noise of the turning pages stopped as he carefully closed the large volume so the cover could be seen.

"Look, Jerome. It's a painting of this castle. See. There's the boat dock and the tower where we spent last night." Quinn's finger touched the cover, pointing out each feature she named.

"I think this is our window. At least the flower beds below it look the same."

They both looked on in amazement as the dark square began to glow very faintly, a barely discernible grey at first, then brightening to pale yellow. A warm light filled the painted window.

"Oh, my! What a wonderful book!" Quinn carried the book over to the chair closest the fire. She sat on the arm of the chair and opened it on her knees.

"Quinn! I don't think that's safe. It's bewitched. Remember?" Jerome stood behind her chair, reaching for the book.

"No, Jerome. Not bewitched. I think it's enchanted. Come. Sit by me and we'll look at it together." She patted the seat of the chair and Jerome reluctantly sat. He was ready to snatch the book from her hands and throw it into the flames if Quinn would be harmed.

"How strange. That's Danielle's name." She pointed to the letters emblazoned on the first page of the book. "A picture of her, too. She's kissing a prince."

"But what's that dark shape just behind her? It looks like the shadow of a man."

"But not that prince," Quinn pointed out. "It's in the wrong place." They both watched as the picture faded away, leaving nothing but a faint tinge of pastel color on the page.

The pages rustled again, falling open once more. The name of another sister was written in flowing script. 

"Yes, that's Ariel. What is she looking at? Oh, I see. There's a man over there. But what's he doing?" Jerome looked closely at the picture and realized at once the man was pleasuring himself. He glanced at Quinn's face, her cheeks pink with her blush, and knew she had, too.

"Jerome, do you ..."she began.  And do you ever think of me?

"Princess," he interrupted. "There are some things a man keeps to himself." Jerome looked down at her innocent face, her shy smile and beautiful eyes, and sighed. "Perhaps I should hold the book," he said, gently taking it from her. He tilted the book towards the firelight and turned the page.

"It's yours, Quinn. Are you sure you want to look?" When Quinn nodded, he read the name. "Anne Aurora Westingfield. Funny. I'd almost forgotten that was your given name."

"No one calls me that. No one but Danielle and Aunt Angora. I was named after her, you know," Quinn said in a small voice, almost a whisper. "I heard the midwife talking one day. She didn't know I was listening and I heard the whole story."

"After I was born, Mother said I looked just like Aunt Angora and she wanted to name me after her. The midwife began filling out the papers, but Father snatched the quill from her hand. He was very angry and said 'I may have a daughter that looks like your evil sister, but I will not name my poor innocent daughter after her. This baby's name shall be Anne' and he filled the rest out himself."

"And now you're called Quinn," Jerome said. "How did that happen?"

"After I heard that, I didn't want to be called Anne anymore. There are too many "A" names in this family as it is. I was reading a book and discovered that 'quint' meant five. I wanted to be called Quint since I'm the fifth daughter. Mother objected, so we compromised with Quinn. I've been Quinn ever since."

"This is your picture, Quinn. Do you wish to look?"

"I want to, but I'm a little nervous. Could you look first, Jerome, and give me a hint?"

"As you wish, Princess, but I'm sure it will be nothing but good things." Jerome watched as the picture miraculously appeared, just as it had with the other sisters. Jerome smiled at the vision of Quinn, his Quinn, painted on the page. Her radiant face and smile brightened the room around her. His smile faltered and his heart sunk when the man appeared on the page with her. He held Quinn in his arms and his face could not be seen, but Jerome could see the crown on his head clearly enough. Quinn would find her man, her prince, in this castle, but it would not be him. 

Quinn's voice interrupted his study of the picture. "Well, is it a good one, Jerome?"

"No, do not answer. I want to know, good or not." Quinn interrupted before he had a chance to answer her. Jerome turned the book so she could see, but the only thing left on the page was a foggy smudge of color. "I missed it," she said, the disappointment obvious in her voice. "Tell me one thing, Jerome. Was I happy in the picture?" 

"Princess," he answered truthfully, his voice breaking along with his heart, "I have never seen you happier."

Quinn grinned up at Jerome. She knew, she just knew somehow, that she would be happy. No, she was happy right now and forever, because she would be with Jerome. The past two nights, and all the other times she'd spent tagging along with him, were the happiest in her life. Jerome smiled down at her.

 You deserve to be that happy, Princess, he thought, and even though I'm not the man to put that wondrous look on your face, I will guard you, protect you, keep you from harm and yes, love you, until he comes for you. This is my promise to you, Quinn Aurora Westingfield. 

"Another sister?" he asked, indicating the book he still held in his hands.

"No. I think that's enough for tonight. Let's just sit here and watch the flames." 

Jerome placed the book on the table and glanced over his shoulder at the window. It was no longer black and starlit. Dusky purple streaks filled the sky. "It's almost morning. It will be light soon. I should look for the door once more." He began to rise, but stopped as Quinn's hand touched his. 

"Stay with me. Please," she asked. "The world outside can wait for just a little longer." 

"Very well, Quinn. We can stay, but just until the sun is up. We don't know how long the boat will wait for you." 

"Wonderful!" she answered, "and I'm tired of perching up here like a gargoyle." With that, she slid on the arm of the chair until she was nestled on Jerome's lap. "This is so nice," she murmured as she drowsily watched the flames.

"Quinn, this is not a good idea," Jerome protested.  I wish it was a good idea, Quinn. I wish it with all of my heart. I wish you belonged right where you are. 

"No, Jerome," she insisted. "It is a very good idea." 

He protested and yet his arms wrapped around her, cradling her as she fell asleep. He stayed there, savoring the moment, until the fire guttered out, flames falling magically into ashes once more and the door to the room creaked slowly open.

He gathered her up in his arms, still sleeping, and carried her down to the docks. He handed her to the boatman who did not see the tears falling from Jerome's eyes as he followed the boat from shore, seeing Quinn safely home once more. 



Enchanted Twelve: Quinn Ch. 03



"To summon a prince," Quinn read the instructions to herself one last time and chanted the incantation inscribed in the old leather book. She placed her finger on the page to mark her place, closed the book and then followed the last step.  "Turn in place three times and he shall appear. One." Quinn carefully spun on one satin-slippered foot. "Two." Her eyes were shut tight and a soft whispered "please, please, please" hung in the cool air of the castle's gallery. "Three." One final spin and Quinn slowly opened her eyes. A smile of wonder lit up her face.

"It worked!" 

"What worked?" Jerome face was puzzled as he looked down at Quinn and the book she was still holding. He took the book from her hands and opened it to the page she had been looking at.

"Summoning spells. Oh, Quinn! You didn't," he asked, his face showing an expression akin to terror as he asked, "You didn't try to summon a dragon, did you? Those beasts could be dangerous. Not that I believe in magic, mind you, but there have been too many things happening in this castle to discount it entirely." 

"Of course not." Jerome's look of relief soon changed to one of resignation as she continued, "Merry's already promised us a ride whenever we'd like one." 

"Us?" 

"Yes. Surely you wouldn't think I'd do something that wonderful without you. It just wouldn't be half as much fun without you. Nothing ever is." Jerome's heart gave a tiny jolt as he felt the sincerity behind Quinn's words.  Oh, princess, if you only knew.

He cleared his throat and swallowed past the lump that formed there. "So, princess, if you weren't summoning dragons, what were you trying to conjure up? A frog to kiss so you can have your handsome prince?"

"No, silly. That only works in fairy tales. The only frog I ever want to kiss is you." She teased and, standing on her tiptoes, kissed his nose. "There. You're now a handsome prince and we'll live happily ever after." 

Jerome looked down at his neatly patched tunic and rough-soled boots. "No. I'm still a simple steward, Quinn. I'm afraid even your kiss can't change that." 

"Oh, but this place is special, remember? If there's anywhere something magical could happen, it's here. And I choose to believe it will tonight." Quinn's voice was determined as she took Jerome's hand and began to lead him to the same door they'd entered the past two nights. 

"Come on. Let's see what adventure awaits us through this door. Tonight is filled with possibilities. Can't you feel it in the air, Jerome?"

 Ah, Quinn, the only thing I can feel, my whole world right now, is your hand in mine.He opened the wooden door and stepped cautiously inside, barring Quinn's entrance with his hand until he knew the place was safe. His eyes quickly adjusted to the dim light and he beckoned Quinn inside. 

"Well, Princess Quinn, it seems it is your turn to dance." Faint music played softly in the background as Quinn looked around the room.

"Oh, my! It's beautiful!" The walls glowed with a pale light reminiscent of seashells while the floor shone like polished glass. "Oh, Jerome! Have you ever seen anything so wonderful in your whole life?" Quinn exclaimed, her voice hushed with awe.

Yes, Quinn, every time I look into your eyes . He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders and bowed formally over Quinn's hand. "May I have this dance, princess?" Just one dance to remember the rest of my life, all those cold, lonely nights while you're in the arms of your real prince.

Princess Anne Aurora Westingfield, known to everyone simply as Quinn, curtsied her best curtsy and took Jerome's outstretched hand. "I'd be delighted." 

The music, barely audible before, was a soft, sweet ballad as perfect as the room itself.  The two lovers began to dance, hesitantly at first as they learned each other's steps and then more confidently as the music and the night swept over them. 

They danced, all formal steps and stilted posture as they followed the music through the first waltz. They smiled and giggled like children as their feet tangled and they had to clutch at each other to avoid tumbling in a heap to the floor. They looked at each other with a new awareness and all formality and distance was gone. The music slowed and softened as Jerome and Quinn swayed in each other's arms. Time seemed to stand still, the world fall away, as they stood there, barely moving to the music.  

"Quinn. Look up," Jerome's soft voice interrupted her daydreams. Quinn looked up and gasped. 

"Oh!" The ceiling of the small ballroom had vanished, leaving the room open to the stars and the full moon. Tiny songbirds fluttered in the warm night air and fireflies lit up the dim corners of the room.

Quinn smiled up at him, a look of pure delight and wonderment on her face, and Jerome realized with a start that it was that exact expression he'd seen portrayed on her face looking up at him from the pages of the book they'd found.  The night she meets her prince, her destiny, he thought. So, tonight's the night I lose you, princess. His heart cracked and he felt the pain deep into his soul as he realized this. His eyes welled with tears, tears he was determined Quinn would never see.

"Jerome?" Quinn asked hesitantly, her eyes searching his as she tried to discover the reason for the wave of sadness, no, despair, she thought, that fell across his face. "Are you all right? Oh, you've had such a long day. You're probably exhausted and I've insisted you dance all night. Let's find a place to sit and rest." She looked around the room for a chair or a bench but the place was totally empty except for the green flickering of the fireflies. 

"Quinn, I'm fine," Jerome said, trying to get Quinn's mind more on her enjoyment of this special night rather than her perception of his pain. "I just needed a little rest." A simple kiss he planned to place gently on her cheek turned into something more, much more, when Quinn turned to face him. 

Jerome had meant his kiss to be fleeting, barely brushing her cheek, but when he felt her lips, soft and innocent under his, that kiss turned into something more. A single rose petal, its rosy color a match for Quinn's lips, tumbled over the side of the castle wall and drifted slowly down to land unnoticed on the floor behind them. The kiss continued, light and tender, lips touching, the rest of their bodies still. A sprig of yellow honeysuckle fell. Quinn's hand reached up and tentatively touched Jerome's cheek. A lilac blossom glided on invisible currents to land on the dance floor. They kissed and kissed. Kisses, soft and innocent gradually changing to ones of love and longing, of passion. Their bodies touched, arms entwined until they could each feel the other's heartbeat. Buds and blooms and blossoms of all kinds and colors continued to float over the open castle wall until they were mounded on the polished floor, their fragrance as heady as a garden on a warm summer night. 

"Quinn. Quinn. We have to stop." Jerome's voice was a ragged gasp as he pulled away from Quinn's kisses.  "This isn't right."

"Oh, Jerome," Quinn sighed. "This is the rightest thing I've ever done." One last flower fell and brushed her cheek. She turned and saw the mound of flowers in the corner of the room. "Look, Jerome!" she exclaimed, "even the castle knows it's right."

"But Quinn, you're a princess and I am but a lowly steward, a servant in your father's house. What about your father?" 

"My father loves me and wants me to be happy. Nothing in this whole world would make me happier than to lie in your arms, kissing you, loving you in that beautiful bed of flowers. Please." 

It was her last word, that "please" said with such feeling, such longing, that Jerome was unable to resist. He reached out and, one by one, slid the pins from Quinn's hair and dropped them to the floor. Jerome's fingers untangled her hair and it fell around her shoulders. "One last time, Quinn. Are you sure?"

Quinn's only response was a whispered "kiss me". His response was a series of kisses, eyelids, cheeks, mouth, throat, that left both of them breathless with anticipation. Quinn's hand guided his to the laces fastening the front of her gown. He untied the ribbons with trembling fingers, her dress falling from her shoulders. She stood before him clad only in a chemise of almost transparent silk and her dancing slippers. 

Jerome's fingers lightly brushed the tops of Quinn's breasts. He delighted in the sight of her body's reaction to his touch, her skin blushing pinkly, her nipples pressed against the sheer fabric of her undergarment.  He trailed kisses down her throat, across the creamy skin framed by the thin straps of her chemise and then on her breasts through the silk. Kisses, very light and tentative at first, almost hesitantly and then more passionate and demanding, drugging, sucking kisses as his mouth responded to her faint moans and shivers.

Quinn's hands reached out blindly, her eyes lowered from the intensity of his kisses, and tugged at his tunic. He quickly pulled it over his head, barely pausing from his kissing, and tossed it aside. Quinn raised her eyes and smiled shyly at him. Her eyes dropped to his chest and she touched the faded mark, pale gold outlined in a deeper shade of the same hue, she found just above his left nipple.  

"What's this?" she asked. "I've never noticed it before."

"I've had it all my life. You've never been standing this close to me before, Quinn."

"Oh. What is it? It looks almost like a crown. See. The base along the bottom and the points are jewels across the top." Her fingers followed the outline of the mark as she talked.

"A crown? I always thought it looked like a tree stump. See. The trunk and then the roots across the bottom." He exaggeratedly looked down, a wide smile lighting up his face.

"A tree stump?" she said in astonishment. "You're looking at it upside down, Jerome. I really think it's supposed to be a crown." She traced the mark once more, her fingers brushing his dark nipple. Jerome gasped at her touch.  Quinn pulled her fingers away and looked up at him. "Does it hurt? Did I hurt you?" 

"Oh, no, Quinn," he whispered, his voice a ragged murmur. "Your touch feels so good."

"Like this?" she softly said, as she stroked first one nipple and then the other with her fingertips. "Or this?" Her fingers tugged at his nipples, rolling them between her thumb and finger. "Or perhaps this?" she said and licked, first one then the other, taking each in turn into her mouth and sucking. Jerome's moans, his fingers tangled in her hair, were all the answers she needed.  She untied the ribbon straps of her chemise and let it fall to the floor, joining her ball gown. She stepped out of them, the blooms from the flower bed tumbling around her ankles. 

"Please, Jerome, make love to me," she said to him. Jerome took her in his arms and carefully lowered her into the center of the mound of colorful scented flowers. He quickly removed the rest of his clothes and stretched out beside her.  Several tiny flowers drifted up on the current of air and settled on Quinn's breasts and the fine curls nestled at the top of her thighs. He smiled and lightly blew them away. 

"I've never done this before, Jerome," she whispered, her arms reaching out to hold him.

"Neither have I, princess," he answered as he pulled her close to him.

"Not even with..." she began.

"Not even with," he said. "I was waiting for you. I've loved you for as long as I can remember, Quinn. There were no others but you." 

"Oh, Jerome. I feel exactly the same way." 

Covering her body with his, Jerome kissed Quinn. Her face. Her throat. A slow exploration of the curve of her breast. He caressed her body, stroking her nipples with his thumbs until they were as pink and as firm as the lush rosebuds surrounding them. Quinn responded to his every touch, every caress, every kiss. He took her nipples into his mouth, his tongue sliding back and forth across their peaks, his mouth suckling on the rosy tips. Her body ached for his kisses, his caresses and more.

As if he could read her mind, Jerome's hand slid down her body, lightly skimming her belly, before coming to rest on the silken curls covering her mound. Quinn's hips tilted upward as his finger brushed the swollen bud he found there, then parted the dewy curls and slipped inside her.  Quinn's thighs parted, her body inviting him in. His finger gathered her moisture, spreading it over her petal-soft folds. He stroked her pearl and delighted in her response. 

Jerome covered her body with his own, kissing Quinn as he entered her ever so slowly, inch by inch, until he was deep within her.  He made love to her, with her, tenderly, passionately, pouring all the emotion, the love, he'd felt for his princess for so long.  Their bodies entwined, Quinn and Jerome spent the night together, whispering, caressing, kissing, loving each other. The fireflies disappeared. The songbirds quieted for the night. The lovers nestled in their magical bed and drifted off to sleep as the silver moon floated overhead. 

Jerome opened his eyes early the next morning. Quinn was curled up beside him on the bare castle floor. All traces of the flowers and the birds were gone. He looked up. The ceiling was no longer open to the sky.  Pale pink light streamed in through an open window. A rooster's crow signaled the start of another day. 

"Quinn. Wake up." He lightly stroked her cheek and smiled as she turned her face into his touch. "It's morning, or almost so, Princess. We need to get dressed and I need to see you safely back to the castle."

"Oh, Jerome. I had the most wonderful dream. We were in a castle and..." Her voice trailed off as she opened her eyes and looked around her, seeing their clothes nearby and feeling Jerome's arms wrapped around her. "It wasn't a dream, was it, Jerome? It was real. And, oh, it was so wonderful. But the birds, the flowers..." 

"Part of the magic of the castle, I guess, Quinn," Jerome replied. "I remember them, too. If it was all a dream, it was a dream we shared." He stood up and, reaching a hand down and clasping Quinn's, pulled her to her feet. "But now it's time to get back to the real world." He gathered up Quinn's clothing and helped her into them and then donned his own. They opened the door and stepped out into a long corridor. 

Quinn took his hand and they walked slowly down the passageway, stopping to look at the portraits hung on the wall. Small brass plaques under each painting identified each subject. Quinn paused at the last one and frowned. "His face looks so familiar, Jerome. I feel as if I've seen it someplace before, but I don't know where. Could he have been one of the dancers?" 

Jerome looked carefully at the portrait and the date engraved below it. "I don't think so, Quinn. He would be older than any of the men we've seen here. Perhaps he is a friend of your parents."

"Perhaps no one knows about him. Perhaps he's a long lost prince." 

"Quinn, princes don't just get lost," Jerome answered. They had walked the length of the gallery and an unlatched door stood ajar in front of them. 

A servant, carrying a tray of luscious ripe fruit and cream, walked by the couple and then turned. "Begging your pardon, kind sir, but the lovely lady happens to be right. A prince of this castle did get lost. But it wasn't the man shown in that painting. It was his young son." 

Quinn's eyes grew wide as she listened to the man's tale. "The young prince, Brendan, went riding with a trusted member of the palace staff. When the pair did not return, a search was organized. The grounds, the surrounding woods, as much distance as a strong stallion and a skilled rider could cover in a day's time, let alone a man and a young boy, barely three years old, on a gentle horse. There was no sign of the man or the young prince.  Word was sent out far and wide, but no trace was ever found of Prince Brendan."

"And the manservant?" Jerome asked.

"Ah," the servant answered. "A sad tale, indeed, and a mysterious one, too. Years later, bones were found in a deep ravine. The groundskeeper examined them carefully and determined they were of a man and a large animal, possibly a horse. But the boy's bones were never found. No one ever saw the little prince again."

"See, Jerome. Princes do disappear. You could be..."

The servant's excited voice interrupted her response. "What did you call him?"

"Jerome," Quinn answered. "That's his name. Why?" 

"That was the name of the groom who carried young Prince Brendan off on his ride that morning."

Quinn's grip tightened on Jerome's hand. "Oh, Jerome. Maybe you're the lost..."

"Quinn, I told the people who found me my name was Jerome. My foster parents tell stories of my wandering up to their dooryard, crying and saying 'Jerome, Jerome' over and over again." Jerome said in a patient tone.

"Maybe you were lost and calling for your friend, Jerome, not telling them your name. That could be," Quinn mused.

"Well, anyway, there's no way to know. The castle is deserted. The last king and queen in those portraits died almost twenty years ago," Jerome replied.

"There is one way to tell," the man answered. "Each babe was marked with a symbol of the ruling family. A golden crown painted over his heart." He lightly touched the place on Jerome's chest, a place where both Jerome and Quinn knew a faded crown was hidden.  "A man of four and twenty with such a mark would be the rightful owner of this castle and sole heir to the kingdom and all its riches." 

"Jerome," Quinn exclaimed, "I think you're that long lost prince. No. I'm sure of it."

"That very well may be, Quinn, but right now we have more important things to be concerned about," Jerome answered firmly, taking her hand and walking through the open door into the warm sunshine. 

"More important than your being a prince?" Quinn asked in astonishment. 

"Yes, princess. More important than my being a prince. The most important thing in the world right now," Jerome said, smiling down at her. "I need to ask your father for your hand in marriage. If I am Prince Brendan, I will need a princess and I just happen to know of one I want to spend the rest of my life with." 

"One more thing, sir," the servant said, "it is said that when the prince of the castle falls in love, magic appears."

"I don't doubt that for a moment." Then Jerome, the newly-found Prince Brendan, kissed his love, Princess Quinn.  Songbirds from the night before appeared in the trees, their music filling the courtyard. Colorful butterflies swooped and fluttered overhead. Jerome reached out and gently removed a sprig of honeysuckle caught in Quinn's hair. "I know this place is magic."

The End



Enchanted Twelve: The Twins Ch. 01



This is part of a chain. Although these three chapters can be read on their own, if you like them I highly recommend you check out the other authors and their princesses.

*

Of all of the princesses, it is likely that Angora's plans have been most effective when it comes to the eldest twins, Mandy and Millay. Their sisters know of their dreams, and the handsome princes, Jerov and Beryl, they have met in the enchanted lands. But there is much they have not revealed, even to those they trust the most.

If they were the first to suspect in their 'waking moments' that the dreams were more than just that, they never spoke of it openly. Instead, they kept such thoughts to themselves. Sometimes literally. While most twins seem to have some level of a mental and emotional connection, with Mandy and Millay it goes much deeper. With a share of their mother's birthright, the two have always been able to literally share each others thoughts. Provided, of course, that the other is willing at the time.

Through the years the two have plotted much mischief. Because they were identical, it was a simple matter for them to switch places and cause trouble. Yet when confronted their alibis meshed so completely, through use of shared thoughts and memories, that none could ever pin the blame on one or the other. Punishments were generally shared as a result. Unfortunately, this meant punishing the innocent, which always resulted in lighter terms on them both. In all, they probably received an average amount of punishment through the years commensurate with their crimes.

Mandy and Millay were no longer strictly speaking identical. Once they began to notice boys, they decided it would save on heartbreak and confusion if there was a way for those around them to be able to identify them. In the end Mandy chose to dye her hair the purest blond, while Millay darkened hers to a rich chocolate.

It is thus, blond and brunette, a decade later that the two curvaceous women stepped from the boats. With a smile to their sisters they quickly made their way towards the enchanted woods. But their moods were not as carefree as their visage expressed. As the boats crossed the water the full memory of their 'dreams', nights spent in the enchanted lands over the past few weeks, returned to them.

The moment they passed from sight, lost amongst the trees, both women hiked up their hoopskirts and began to run. Nightly, they ran as fast as they could to the west. Their princes would eventually meet the two somewhere along the route. They were keenly aware that they could run for only half of the night at most, for at that point they would need to turn around and run even faster in order to reach the boats before dawn.

If they did not run, they might miss the evening with their princes. That had happened once. It was an event they wished they couldn't remember. Exhausted from too many nights running, the twins decided to walk that night in the hopes that the princes were close by. It had been a lovely, if uneventful stroll.

Unfortunately, it was the next night that had terrified the two. Prince Jerov was a sorcerer of some skill. As the intellectual of the pair he was also the obvious leader. He had been so furious that the twins had missed their appointment, due to lack of effort, that he used his magic to bind Millay naked to a tree six feet in the air. Worse still, he had beaten Mandy savagely. He took special care to assure that it was in the most private of areas so that no ill marks would be visible. It would be a reminder to them both.

The hours passed, yet they ran still. They began to stumble from fatigue, despite the lack of undergrowth. They could not keep the pace they set for themselves but they pressed onward, afraid of the consequences should they fail to appear. Their combined thoughts, shared memories of the helplessness of that night spurred them forward despite their weakness.

Finally, ahead lay a light. They knew without seeing that it was the campfire they sought. The princes would stop for the night along the twins path and await them. They slowed to a walk. While prince Jerov had been infuriated that they had missed that evening, he never flinched when they arrived at a walk. So long as they arrived, he cared not their condition. And while the last dozen feet was not nearly enough for the twins to regain their endurance, much less their composure, it allowed their breath to settle slightly. They broke through the trees into the clearing with all of the dignity they could muster.

Even with their fear, and even after two weeks with the men, the sight of the two princes still brought a gasp of desire to the twins. Beryl was nearly six and a half feet tall with kind blue eyes and light brown hair that flowed halfway down his back. His shoulders were broad and muscular. The solid frame went all the way down, and collective thoughts could not help but wonder how well proportioned he was. What treasure was in store for Millay when Prince Beryl finally chose to woo her fully?

Prince Jerov was only a little taller than the twins; perhaps five foot eleven. Although not as broad, proportionately, as his cowed friend he was very powerfully built. The smooth lines of his muscles stretched beneath his flawless skin. His green eyes flowed freely over the two women, hid nothing of his desire to know them both. They were certain that only respect for his friend had kept his hands from Millay.

All around the campfire were spread furnishings that would look more appropriate in a well appointed sitting room. Prince Jerov was an accomplished sorcerer and found some method of transporting the setting wherever he went. Of course, it was possible that Prince Beryl moved it into the final positions but the women suspected, by the seemingly random placement that little thought went into the exact arrangement.

Beryl sat on a solid oak love seat that would normally hold two comfortably. Blood rushed through Millay as she thought about how his massive body would press tightly against her when she went to join him. Comfortable, down-filled, chairs sat haphazardly next to side tables. There were even silver platters of finger foods and deserts arrayed for them. The twins' journey might be difficult each night, and Jerov could be cruel, but they were obviously beloved and treasured.

Jerov leaned back, settled into a fine chair, as he waited for them to close the distance. As if to emphasize his thoughts, his intentions, his knees slowly spread, wider the nearer the women were. Millay grew uncomfortable and finally shut herself away from her sister's thoughts. It wasn't that she had issues sharing intimate sensations with her sister. They had intentionally linked numerous times while one, or both, of the two was with a lover. It was the particular flavor of those thoughts that had begun to form since they met this pair that bothered her. It was the first time their thoughts had diverged.

Mandy's eyes were locked between her prince's legs and heat began to grow in the core between her own. Jerov was not the largest, or even most skilled lover she had experienced. He always ensured she finished, however. More than that, most of the time it was so exceptional she could barely remember her own name afterwards.

"You made good time tonight." Jerov's soft baritone voice glided over the women. Mandy's knees nearly buckled from the sound alone, and even Millay felt her loins quiver at the sound. Whatever other questions she had about her sister's desires, she understood exactly how she had fallen for the man.

Mandy, her legs locked to keep from collapse, pulled her gaze up to meet her prince's gaze. Unfortunately, his attention was on her firm breasts. Her heart fluttered and her nipples hardened as if his gifted, mage-trained, fingers caressed her body rather than just his eyes. As his gaze slowly slid down her body she gasped. Her depths clenched in anticipation and released, over and over. The strange, revealing undergarments he had gifted her with moistened quickly until drenched fabric clung tight between her legs.

Beryl smiled gently at Millay. Her own body responded much as her sister's had to the smaller prince. The warmth, the genuine interest and compassion, of that smile flashed from his eyes to hers. She shivered as the sensation seemed to coat the inside of her body and pool between her legs. It was a tense longing, unlike her sister's. He hadn't touched her except to hold her and kiss her. Her need had grown into an almost literal pain as she waited for him to make his move.

Jerov patted one knee. Mandy knew it wasn't an invitation to sit on his lap and knelt between his legs. It had been an invitation to rest herself however and her head leaned over to press against his thigh. Her body fluttered when she noticed the slight quiver on his cod-piece in reaction to the touch. For the solid item to shift, he must have hardened considerably already.

"We've enough time tonight, it seems, that I should be able to instruct you some. After we spend some quality time together, of course." Both women shivered with desire as his voice once more glided across their bodies. Mandy's head slid forward slightly as she instinctively reacted to his charisma. The cod-piece pulsed once more, and this time it remained lifted slightly from the cloth of his breaches.

Millay had begun to slide onto the love-seat next to Beryl, but ended up melting into his thick, strong arms as the voice, combined with her prince's touch, dissolved the last of her strength. Instead of sitting next to him, she found herself on his lap. The stunning warmth of his muscled body seemed to enfold her and reminded her of both protection and possession. She knew within that embrace was also unconditional faith and trust in her as well.

They both knew what 'quality time' was a euphemism for. It wove a thread of nervous anxiousness through them both. But the promise of learning to use magic like Jerov could was so tempting that their moods brightened regardless. They did not realize that they had inherited their mother's potential, and so thought nothing of the trinkets of wisdom and skill that he saw fit to dole out rather than their full capabilities.

Unexpectedly, Jerov's hand flashed out and coiled roughly in Mandy's platinum hair. Her squeak of surprise, and slight pain as his tightened grip pulled at her roots, was smothered before complete. He pulled her head forward and pressed her mouth against his loins, below the slightly raised cod-piece. Her eyes were wide, and she could see the slightest hint of his manhood as it poked through a specifically designed hole in his pants. The boiled leather groin armor was the only thing that covered him.

Jerov groaned in pleasure. Even through the soft satin of his pants, the touch of her supple lips on his balls was an exciting promise he would ensure she followed through on. More than that, however, was the excitement and euphoria of the power that he held within his hand. These princesses held great magic within them and if he could control them, as he did the physically powerful Beryl, he could be one of the greatest kings of all time.

Millay's eyes squeezed shut as she pressed her cheek against Beryl's chest. She had never been able to figure out how it could be so hard, so solid, while still be incredibly soft and comfortable. The chords of muscles that rippled beneath her face looked as if they should feel like steel. But his heart beat just beneath the surface. That sound and the arm that instinctively came up to wrap about her ear, hold her and protect her, kept out the sounds of her sister and her consort just as her own will kept free of the thoughts.

The rough grip shifted and Mandy's neck tilted back instinctively to avoid the pain. Her nose caught the edge of the cod-piece and lifted it, even as he pulled her closer. Her face pressed against the throbbing, solid, length and Jerov groaned louder. Mandy's lips opened slightly and plucked at the sensitive spot where the rock-hard form met the soft skin beneath. Jerov threw his head back and sighed.

Mandy shifted her weight and lifted the offending armor to rest against her prince's tight stomach. His impressive width stood firm in the center of the hole in his pants, but she knew she could view more. Deft fingers slid the hole wider in order to work his testicles free. She knew he enjoyed it when she paid attention to everything, and she hoped it would not only calm him but possibly inspire him to teach greater works than he had been.

Gently, her teeth caught the silken skin. Mandy was rewarded as a shudder ran through her lover's body. With first her tongue, then lips, she slowly began to caress the loose skin. The solid form that stood before her eyes expanded slightly and veins began to thrust at the surface, unable to increase his size any further.

Mandy let her eyes close as the pressure released slightly from the hand tangled within her hair and Jerov's other hand began to massage her shoulder. Her body began to relax into the soothing touch, and her soft attentions took on a more heated need as she moved her mouth to suck at the flesh of the base of his shaft. It pulsed in anticipation and his caress slid down her arm to her elbow and sent a jolt of electric delight to her chest.

The hand tightened suddenly, pulling at her hair even harder. Mandy began to scream in pain, but quickly shut her mouth as he yanked her head up to the tip of his manhood. He wanted her pain. She knew what he had intended, and although she had been willing only moments before she would not let him control her in this way.

Jerov expected her resistance. He even knew that she had been working closer and closer to using her mouth. The woman was truly skilled, but this night he didn't want the soft caress of her tongue and lips. He wanted to stretch her mouth and pierce the back of her throat. He wanted to feel her jaw pressed against the base as she struggled with instinct; fought the urge to bite.

Mandy knew she was safe, for the moment, even if it would upset Jerov more. He could plug her nose to force open her lips, but not her teeth. He would need to inflict more pain than simply pulling her hair in order to force a scream. And she knew he would not leave marks where they could be seen. He had a sense of propriety and dignity that prevented such actions.

Her eyes widened in fright. Mandy had only a moment to realize her mistake as well manicured fingers closed around her exposed breast. His gentle massage had been a ploy to keep her from noticing as he cleverly slid her dress down her arm to free her breast. Now, his fingers clenched and twisted hard. Her nipple, caught at the base of two fingers, burned while the rest of her breast was in even more agony.

The moment Mandy's mouth opened to scream, Jerov thrust her head forward with her hair entangled hand. Her jaw ached as she opened it wide to avoid dragging her teeth along the sensitive skin. The scream faltered in her chest as his tip pressed against the soft back of her throat and she began to choke.

The muted sound vibrated into the core of Jerov's loins. He let out an inarticulate scream of pleasure as the sensation drove him to the very edge of climax. Her throat spasmed around him. Her jaw pressed against his body. The pressure was too much for him, but he needed just a bit more to push him over the edge. The hand around her breast curled into a claw and twisted further, even as he dug manicured nails into her supple flesh.

Liquid fire burned up his length as her scream redoubled. His muscles spasmed with ecstasy and pulled her head farther onto him. His hips bucked forward to complete the vice. Seed ricocheted straight into her throat and began to pour down the wrong tube, opened by her vocal pain.

Beryl cooed soft words to Millay as she huddled within his embrace. She counted her blessings and thanked any god she could think of that the cruel prince would not touch her for fear of the big man who had fallen in love with her. She couldn't leave her sister to this fate, but she could do nothing about it either.

Mandy fell back, released from Jerov's sadistic grasp. On hands and knees she began to retch and cough alternately. The cloying liquid stuck within her and refused to come out. Her body shook as it tried desperately to get air past the thick fluid.

Jerov began to harden at the sight of his princess on her hands and knees and helpless. With practiced ease, he tossed the cod-piece aside. He threw himself from the chair to land on his knees behind her. The first indication that he was even there, for Mandy, was the hem of her dress as it landed across her shoulders. She was too weak from lack of air to struggle.

He sat back on his heels and simply appreciated the view. The underwear he had gifted the twins looked exquisite. In the front it followed the contours of the delicious V of their legs until it ran over their hips and dropped suddenly to cup and hold the tight, round, butt. The white, paper thin, cotton offered little actual protection or warmth, but it covered for modesty's sake. Like the girls, it presented the image of propriety while suggesting so much more. Soaked, as the pair was, with her desire it clung to every curve and mound and had turned nearly transparent. Jerov hardened fully. It was like looking through lightly smoked glass at her lust.

Beryl knew what his companion had planned and shifted on the love-seat to impose his body between it and his troubled love. He knew how much it bothered her to see her twin abused. It was the main reason he had chosen to move so slowly with her. They kissed and fondled easily, but the only time either had even pleasured the other was the once when they'd been able to sneak away privately. And during that encounter he had sensed her worry for Mandy.

Jerov leaned forward. A single finger traced the outlined and visible features displayed beneath the thin cotton. Mandy's shiver and whimper were equally mixed with desire and fear. Her muscles clenched slightly in a failed attempt to grip his finger as it passed over. The slightest bit of her cream seeped through the saturated material as her depths wept.

Mandy gasped as he pulled the slight protection aside. He pulled on the top of the panties slightly and the bunched fabric dug into the tender juncture of hip and leg painfully. She coughed fully, finally able to breath slightly, although she could still feel his seed coating her throat. She tried to push herself more upright, but heavy hands caught her shoulders and pushed her face to the ground.

In one motion, Jerov found her depths and buried himself. Mandy cried out as pain and pleasure exploded from her traitorous loins. He was too big for the position and he knew it. This deep, at this angle, he pressed painfully into her. Even at his most gentle, his sheer width threatened to rip her open and added a slight pain. Now, her carelessness provided him with the optimum position for his dark fantasies.

Mandy was embarrassed as she heard the scream escape. There was too much pleasure, and so little pain to be heard from her disloyal voice. Her body began to twitch in wonder as he pulled back and slammed forward, drove himself even deeper. Suddenly she was trapped within an unresponsive form as she drank in every slight ache and every sharp prick.

She lost track of time as her body rode its own twisted needs. Her eyes sealed shut against the tears that leaked freely. She tried to drown out the sound of her own exultant screams.

Slowly, Mandy began to recognize the world once more. Jerov was no longer inside of her, but somehow it felt as if she was even more full than when the throbbing length thrust in. Too slowly, she felt herself leaking, and the sensation begin to equalize. She had collapsed to her side when that solid length had been removed; her only support.




Enchanted Twelve: The Twins Ch. 01



Now, she looked weakly over to see Jerov slumped back against the chair, his arms spread high to drape over the sides. His expression was calm; sated. It was these eyes that looked lovingly at her. With the cruelty purged from his system, burnt away by the fire of his passion, she knew he would be a gentle and compassionate teacher.

Jerov looked down at the limp member between his legs almost in confusion. Mandy crawled over to him. She knew how sore she was going to be come morning, and the sensation would only be worse for still needing to run back before the end of the night. As she collapsed between his splayed legs and lay her head on his thigh, she realized she might feel it for longer than just the morning. There were traces of blood, most likely hers, mixed with the combined cream of their lusts.

Slowly, lovingly, Mandy began to lick and suck him clean. He didn't react to the attention with lust, but rather seemed to sink deeper into ground on which he sat. His body now draped bonelessly against the front of the chair. Once she was satisfied he was clean, slightly reenergized by the way the salty, sweet and coppery tastes blended together, she replaced the cod-piece.





Enchanted Twelve: The Twins Ch. 02



Enchanted Twelve: Mandy and Millay Ch. 02

This is the second chapter in my part of a Chain Story. While it can probably be read on its own, it will make much more sense if read with the Enchanted Twelve chapters and other Enchanted Twelve: Twins chapters. I would highly recommend reading the other authors as well for further misadventures.

The mysterious shadow had to move quickly to keep up with the twins. He had found them late in the middle of the previous night; in time to witness the cruelty of one of their princes. He couldn't believe what he had seen. The larger of the two seemed reasonable. He seemed like a good man. Yet he did nothing in the face of such obvious pain. Tonight the shadow wished to see from the start.

What he saw truly confounded him. The twins, Mandy and Millay, had slipped a few dozen yards into the forest and immediately began to run. What he could not understand was how they could put such energy and obvious concern into running, when the very ground beneath them warped and twisted. It reminded him of the time he spotted a rat trying to run against the direction of a wagon wheel.

If they did this for much of the night, it was no wonder their shoes were worn through by morning. As well as he made them, he had never thought they would need the strength, the endurance, of a common messenger's shoes. But what confused him even more, was why they ran so hard. It was obvious that they did not move, and yet they looked as if the very Devil himself chased them. Not that they looked back, but their eyes were focused forward, with maniacal intensity.

Curious, the shadow slipped cautiously forward, in the direction of their intent gazes. Sure enough, only a few dozen feet farther into the woods was the clearing he had spotted the night before. In it were the two princes. The smaller of the two, the cruel one, draped lazily in his chair, but the shadow knew a large portion of his attention was directed at the princesses. Could he be responsible for their strange condition?

The big man was busy tending the campfire and seemed to be making various pastries and finger foods. Those were lovingly in the twins' best interest. There was no doubt that the gentle giant had no idea of their fate as he busied himself. The two princes' banter was light, but the shadow was hesitant to leave. The spell could be released at any time, and he wanted to be there when it was. He wanted to see what happened, even if he could not stop it.

Unfortunately, there was still the ball to consider. He slipped silently away. The small clearing wasn't that far from the rest of the princesses. It would be little matter to slip back later and keep an eye on them as well as all of the others.





Enchanted Twelve: The Twins Ch. 02



She also knew that he had reached the point of no return. Any more and he would explode. Her true test for her intended was what he would do when he discovered the fact himself. Would he jump on the bed and take her? Would he stand there as she instructed? Or would he perhaps, as Jerov likely would, use it to turn the tide of control and spray her body with it? Her body shuddered in delight at the thoughts. She wasn't sure which she wanted most, but none of the possibilities dulled the ache between her own hips. In truth, each contemplation enflamed her all the more.

From the wonder and desire in his eyes, Beryl had yet to realize his predicament. Millay's smile widened. She placed a single hand on the top of the headboard. The action revealed a slight bit more of her breast, but the minor change was not enough for her goals.

Instead, Millay shifted her weight forward. As she knelt, her breasts swung slightly forward. In most situations it would be a submissive posture, imitating an animal giving themselves to their mate, but with him unable to disobey her, it was a show of her power. Her free hand reached back to find the top of the dress and carefully slid it over her firm butt. As it polled around her knees, she heard what she had desired.

Prince Beryl's eyes widened and his gaze finally left Millay as he looked down. His own body was about to betray him. His breathing had been her first clue, but the sudden stillness in his member was another. The final straw that broke his resolve had been the sight of her, clad only in that strange undergarment that Prince Jerov had gifted both of the twins.

The underwear that barely covered her lips and narrowed into virtually a string as it passed between her cheeks and around her hips. She had altered it from the original design. Since it offered only a token of propriety, she had cut away the section that cupped her firm butt so that from behind she looked nearly naked. Bent over as she was, it clung to the swollen lust and defined every contour Beryl wanted to caress and plunge himself within.

The giant's head flew backwards. His back arched and his knees finally collapsed. His height provided another advantage however. Even as he sank, she could still see the solid length above the edge of the bed. Pearlescent cream shot from its tip and arced out of sight. As the man's body shook it spat forth a few more times.

Millay wasn't worried by the short duration of his explosion. She crawled toward him, slipped from the confines of her dress, and studied his reactions. His hips thrust slightly. His eyes were closed. His muscles seemed to writhe beneath his skin. She shuddered thinking of the effect that would have if pressed firmly against her tender nipples.

In his predicament, he never noticed her lay on her stomach at the edge of the bed. Her head leaned off the edge and glanced down to see the trail of seed that leaked down the edge of the covers. She couldn't resist dipping a finger in that and bringing it to taste. Although as salty as she remembered, in her complete arousal nothing had ever tasted as wonderful. When she looked back up at the object of her need, reason had left her eyes.

Since he had collapsed forward, onto his knees, his manhood was only inches away from her. Already it began to soften, even as the last white traces leaked from its tip. She couldn't have that! It belonged hard. She needed it inside of her. But even more, the white gold was too precious to let drip away.

Millay lunged forward, maddened, and stuffed the length into her mouth in its entirety. She felt his body stiffen in surprise. Instinct prompted his hands forward to rest on either side of her head, just as hers reached for his hips to balance herself. She sucked only slightly, but his lust swelled within her mouth and pushed in every direction at once.

A moan escaped as she realized how completely he would fill her. Her depths clenched in anticipation. Her jaw hurt slightly, already, with the sensation but her need pushed all feeling aside as she forced her head forward and pressed her mouth to his very base and beyond.

Prince Beryl hardened completely once more. His tip pierced the back of her throat. The reflexive gag tightened her muscles around him and he moaned. Despite the convulsions of her tongue and throat, she forced herself to stay, knowing that every slight movement brought him infinitely farther towards a second climax than minutes of working him would.

Strong fingers curled through Millay's hair. Her teeth grazed against his sensitive flesh, and the fingers instantly released. It was a not so subtle reminder who was in charge. And Beryl had taken it exactly as she intended. She could only stand a few more seconds in the position and refused to have anything hold her. As much as she cared for him, the discomfort did not turn her on.

She pulled back to his tip. He pulsed pleasantly in her mouth. Now he was not only hard once more, but well on his way towards finishing. With any luck he was only slightly behind her own state of readiness. She moved her body slightly back and forward to keep him going while she concentrated entirely on calming her abused body. As much as she hated the feeling, the minute of silent gagging was well worth the extra time she would have needed to work him to this state.

Finally in control of her own body once more, Millay released him and rolled backwards. She looked down her own lithe body, to see him framed between her slightly raised knees. His eyes still held nothing but innocent wonder and passionate desire as his own view afforded him an easy glance at her entire form at once. She noticed that although his eyes strayed often to her breasts, they were inexorably drawn back between her legs and the soaked white fabric.

Millay raised a single finger and beckoned him onto the bed. Although she could see his natural instinct to leap forward, he moved slowly. Still on his knees, he crawled to the bed. When his hands began to draw him onto the velvet sheets, she began to slide backwards. Framed between his arms and legs, his manhood pulsed steadily. It was a mock chase, and they both knew she would let him catch her.

Once more she sensed the headboard only inches from her. This time, she stopped rather than climb up it. Millay wanted to feel his warm, protective, mass above her. Beryl's smile turned playful, but lost none of the innocent wonder. He continued to stalk towards her. She shivered in anticipated delight as his face neared her barely covered temple.

Beryl's arm curled up to reach over her leg, but Millay had other ideas. With a leg trained for courtly dance, it was simplicity to coil and lash out to once more cover his outstretched arm. Overcommitted, he lost balance and his body dropped an inch to rest against the mattress. Her mouth dropped open with a groan as the maneuver provided the unanticipated benefit of his mouth pressed against her lust and his nose against her tormented bud.

Between the action and Millay's reaction to his face, Beryl understood her desire. His other arm slid beneath her remaining leg and both wrapped around her hips. His casual strength easily held her motionless in a vice-like grip. The rest of her body spasmed with ecstatic electricity as his nose playfully prodded her overly sensitive flower.

Overcome with the sensation, she almost missed hearing him breath in heavily, through his nose, to take in the full measure of her scent. Her body seemed fit to explode as his lips sealed over the wet fabric. When his tongue crept forward to taste her liquid desire, she cried out.

Millay gripped the soft cloth of the sheets. Her body writhed with long pent energy. Now that she had him, he moved to slowly. She wanted to demand her take her that instant, but even her throat was frozen by unrequited need. When he sucked on the fabric, taking much of her flushed lust into his mouth with it, her lungs exploded with a scream of frustration and delight. Through the thin material, she felt his teeth slide across her flesh, grip the underwear and finally her body released itself to sensation.

The world exploded into white. All of the pressure that had built within her, to unbearable proportions, seemed to flood outward between her legs. She felt his tongue pummel her tender pearl and greater levels of pressure and bliss radiated outward. Her body bucked and squirmed, but the tree-trunk arms held her hips completely still. Her inability to vent the extra energy only compounded it, and forced louder and louder screams.

Just when Millay thought he could bring her no greater pleasure, her tiny world paused. Another timeless moment passed, on the brink of orgasm, as two thick fingers nestled at the gates of her temple. With the force of a battering ram, those fingers thrust within her and her mind shattered beneath the multiplied ecstasy.

Tongue whipped and glided. Fingers thrust. Lips sucked. Fingers spread outward before they retreated. Tongue peeled back her enflamed hood and probed the base of her need.

Millay lost all sense of time. She knew only sensation; ecstasy, passion, electricity, heaven. She knew she screamed until her voice grated in her throat. She thought she pleaded, begged for him to stop and take her. Finally she yelled in language learned from her father's soldiers how badly she needed him inside of her.

Her body collapsed as those strong, torturously immoveable, arms released her. She pried her eyes open to see the look of innocent wonder had not left Beryl's face. He was as amazed as she the heights to which he could bring her. She saw a flash of uncertainty flicker across his face. He obviously feared that he could do the same by simply making love with her. Had she any strength in her body she would have grabbed the long flowing hair that cascaded down and dragged him into her.

Prince Beryl must have caught the frustration in her eyes. Sheepishly he crawled forward. The giant's weight glided along her body and made her shudder once more. His control was great enough that she barely felt any pressure, but her body's reaction proved that she was completely unable to move. Only her legs shifted, and those were more pushed aside to make room for his tremendous hips.

Still weak, she found the strength to lift her hands to cup his face. He paused and followed her direction; to bring his lips to meet hers. Always before the two had kissed. Their tongues entwined as the love flowed between them. This time, they seemed to devour each other's mouths in their passion.

Millay's legs wrapped around his wide hips and lifted her own to meet him. She felt that perfect, large, member glide through her drenched flesh and settle just inside of her. She tried to impale herself on him, but even the slight contact sent fresh fire through her body and stole control of her muscles. Her pitiful whimper escaped directly into his mouth. His hips rolled forward obligingly.

It was not the force of Prince Beryl's thrust that tore her lips from his and threw her head back, but the wave of fresh orgasm. Never before had a man been able to bring her multiple times into euphoria. Millay had not realized how little her body had recovered from the previous delighted torture.

Her depths clenched around him, refused to relinquish the blessed girth that forced her wide. Her body bucked and twitched but could not move. In his previous assault, she had lost count of the number of time pleasure crashed through her body, but this time was like none of them. At the same time he seemed to both surround her and fill her completely. Every nerve of her body could feel the touch of his flesh, and every fiber of her being craved more.

Beryl's thrusts became even more powerful. His arms slid beneath her body to hold her in a gentle embrace, even as his thick manhood opened her wider. Wrapped in his arms she was even more immobile, but his hold lifted her from the bed, suspended by the pounding delight between her legs and the protective trunks that enfolded her. She floated in a sea of euphoria. Her body collapsed into the total freedom of the sensation he wrought.

It wasn't until the first horse moan refused to escape that Millay realized something was wrong. Her eyes snapped open as she tried to draw a breath and failed. Suddenly she realized that at least some of the added light-headedness was not from the sheer bliss that pulsed between her legs. Even her teeth began to tingle from asphyxiation.

Prince Beryl seemed completely unaware of her plight. Like her, his eyes had closed to immerse himself in the pure sensation. Wrapped as she was, she could only freely move her legs below her knees. Her hands, pressed against her body, tried to prod her lover, scratch him, anything to get him to open his eyes, but she was too restricted and he was too lost in the moment.

The worst part was the extremes of emotion that now mingled within her. One the one hand were the horror and terror that raged through her. The world, only moments before the purest white of climax, now began to fade into gray. On the other hand every action, every sensation, that came from Prince Beryl brought nothing but love, passion and bliss.

Just as the gray haze began to solidify, to turn her vision black, Millay felt Beryl's tempo falter. His hips drilled into hers and his shaft plunged deeper than it had yet, deeper than any man had pushed. There was a sharp pain in her very core, but unlike the strangled desperation, this pain blended smoothly with the orgasm.

Instead of pulling free, Beryl managed to push deeper. His hips ground against tender nerves and sent her even further into bliss, only marred by her failing consciousness. As his manhood swelled and exploded his seed within her, she tried to scream her bliss. But the darkness overcame her.





Enchanted Twelve: The Twins Ch. 03



Enchanted Twelve: Mandy and Millay Ch. 3 By Deathlynx

Prince Beryl virtually cowered in the corner of the clearing. It wasn't that he was truly afraid of prince Jerov, simply that it was much easier to deal with the smaller man's temper by simply avoiding it. Too often, the target of man's rage became a person who crossed his path rather than the one who caused the mood to begin with.

Of course, more often than not, Beryl didn't even believe that there had been any real slight to set Jerov off. He was incredibly self centered. All it took was an honest disagreement, and the sorcerer-prince would automatically assume that people where out to get him. Truthfully, there were a number of people, but most held vendettas based on past slights of Jerov's ruthless plots for more power.

If only other people could see the man that Prince Beryl had known so long ago. At one time Jerov had been a kind young man. Unfortunately, an incident with the wrong crowd taught him all the wrong lessons about power. In particular, he learned the true potential of magic. Unfortunately, Beryl had been away. He hadn't been around to protect his best friend during that critical period. Now, he stuck with the man in the hopes that somehow, he could find a way to redeem Jerov and turn him back into the man he had been.

Jerov spun and glared at the woods. It was the direction the girls always came from. Beryl quickly tried to calm the smaller man. Better that the man was upset with him than the girls. "I'm sure they're on their way my friend."

Only Prince Jerov's eyes turned towards Beryl. The look was cold. He did not appreciate the attempt to either calm or distract his wrath. After too many seconds, the sorcerer finally responded. When he did it was a barely audible growl. "They will be late tonight."

Beryl wasn't happy with the news, but he accepted it without contest. Unfortunately, that would likely only sour the man's mood more. After the occurrences of the previous night, Beryl feared what that would mean for the girls. "Will they be as late as they were last night?"

For the first time all day, Prince Jerov's expression lightened slightly in contemplation. It was the barest hint of the man Beryl had once called his best friend. Jerov's eyes returned to the woods, but Beryl did not like the glint that appeared in his eyes. "No. We should have a few hours between the time they get here and when they need to leave."

Prince Beryl knew how he wanted to spend the time. In truth, he felt he needed to spend it with Millay. He needed to make sure all was well with her. Unfortunately, he feared he knew the answer. Each day, the two seemed more and more exhausted. They wouldn't be able to continue to meet like this for much longer if this continued.

But that wasn't the worst of it. Last night had desperately scared the gentle young woman. That wasn't even the worst part, from his lover's perspective. Mostly, Millay was afraid for her twin. He couldn't blame her either, even he was unsure how long she would be able to survive his friend's depredations.

Prince Beryl sighed and leaned back. Likely he needed to wait a little longer before he could begin to prepare the snacks and whatnot for the visit. Jerov would let him know when it was time. Even if he had little respect for the women, at least he still respected Beryl enough to afford him the time to get ready. It was one of the few signs that there was still hope.





Enchanted Twelve: Triplets Ch. 01



"No, no, no....you, we must not..." Robin awoke abruptly as the sounds of murmured protests wafted down from the bed above her own. Hazel was having the dreams again, it seemed. She bit her lip and wondered whether she should get Violet or if it was time that the three of them took the matter to Danielle.

She is the oldest of us, after all., she thought. But Hazel's sleepy protests rankled her to no end. No, Danielle was first-born of the Twelve, but she was first among the Three. She tried to understand what Hazel might be envisioning, but it was naught but steam on a mirror. And Violet never seemed to recall even that much of whatever they were going through.

Besides their best frocks and pair after pair of Andrew's well crafted shoes, that is.

Gingerly, she rolled from beneath her covers and slipped up the ladder to Hazel's bed. They had tried to keep to separate rooms at various times while growing up, but somehow the best arrangement had been a large antechamber with three distinct seating areas to reflect the differences between her and her closest sisters, and a smaller bedchamber that still had the sleeping areas perched one on the other like the traveling compartments on a train or large ship; although Violet's stuck out from beneath the others to give her a small space for her extra stock of books, filled journals, and writing supplies. Robin giggled to herself at the memory of one of their younger sisters comparing them to pirates when they unveiled the sleeping quarters to the rest of the group.

"Well, maybe we are," Robin had said, her bright blue eyes sparkling with merriment.

"Arr, sure'n we be just the girls to be pirates too, don't ya know?" Hazel had added, covering one green-brown pupil with a makeshift eye patch.

Violet had shook her curls and closed her pale lavender eyes, not saying a word. Robin had worried about her lack of imagination sometimes, but only until she and Hazel had spent an entire afternoon enraptured by the writings in one of Violet's ubiquitous journals.

Now it was Hazel she worried about, however. Hazel, and all of them, even Danielle. Robin had seen her being taken to task by Father that morning, and had marked the look she gave them when Mother questioned them about the dreams. "Have the dreams returned?" the Queen had asked, but Robin and the rest had deferred to Danielle's leadership and said nothing. Truthfully, I have nothing to really tell. But Hazel... "Hazel, Hazel," she whispered in a lingering singsong manner as she gently rocked her sister. "What is the matter? Please tell me what you see."

Hazel's eyes turned to her sister and she blinked through a coating of tears. She sniffed and planted both arms about Robin in a tight embrace. "I don't know what it was, but it seemed so...so...real. Like one of Violet's stories made flesh, but with all the naughty bits still intact."

"Hush, hush...it'll be okay. I think Father and Mother, especially Mother, knows it's beginning to happen again and they'll do something about it. Do you want to take what you remember to Danielle?"

"Oh no! She's only just started looking at the three of us as more than the little brats who played tricks on her...hiding her best combs and brushes...rearranging her book shelves...she'll think us little like Cecilia."

"Cecilia's of age, she's hardly 'little'", Robin reminded her sister.

"You know what I mean," Hazel said. Robin nodded, for she did. It was among the reasons she'd wanted to deal with it between the three of them. She leaned over the edge of the bed to glance down to Violet and see if she was still sleeping soundly, but her bed was empty.

"Where's Violet gotten to?" Robin asked. She didn't really expect an answer since she knew Hazel had been dreaming, but she slipped to the ladder and slid to the floor without touching the rungs. Hazel beat her down, though, by dropping over the side and bouncing off the big chair that sat near to Violet's bed. "Showoff," Robin said. Hazel shrugged and took a short bow.

They looked about and then to one another. "Maybe she had to relieve herself in the night," Hazel suggested.. "I know that was one of the reasons we gave her the bottom-most of the beds, remember? Let's just sit here a while and wait up for her."

"Fair enough, but if I hear the clock strike and she's not here, we'll be going looking, agreed?"

"Agreed."

Hazel and Robin settled down on Violet's bed and the chair beside of it and tried to relax. Robin realized about the time they'd both gone quiet that she'd managed to forget she'd been trying to find out what exactly Hazel had been dreaming about. Oh well, it'll keep, I suppose. I'm sure she's as tired of having them as I am hearing her have them. Tired. Yes....so tired.... Robin's thoughts drifted away and her head nodded over towards Violet's pillow even as Hazel slouched down in the chair and started to curl up on its seat.

But neither girl slept.

Instead, the door to the room opened and Violet entered quietly. She was dressed for traveling. A thick, dark mantle cloaked her otherwise brightly coloured clothing, and she had on riding boots. Without a word, Robin and Hazel arose from where they had laid themselves, slipped their sleeping garments off, and began to dress like their sibling. Bird's egg and forest floor eyes stared blankly into the mirrors as they tidied up their hair, then the three of them stepped into the hallway, took one another's hands and joined the procession of princesses heading out into the night.

Not a one turned to look back as an unseen form slipped from another room in the hall and followed in the Twelve's footsteps. Indeed, they seemed unaware of anything but keeping together and moving forward in their proper place among the other princesses as they passed through the woods.

All three walked in silence until the sounds of water could be heard and then the three turned to give each other a wide grin. Robin moved towards their vessel first, but Hazel beat her once again by vaulting over the side of the longboat. "Arr, matey," she said, "I do think it be the captain's privilege to board first."

Hazel laughed and opened her mouth to reply only to be cut off as a strong pair of hands spun her at the waist and brought her lips to a mouth set in a smooth, clean shaven--but with a thin moustache--face and kissed her hard and long. She broke off the kiss with a sputter, then giggled and threw her arms about the man's neck and kissed him back. "Donal!" she cried.

     Robin smiled and nodded hello to the Prince of Hardby as he welcomed her sister. Violet climbed over the edge behind her and whispered in Robin's ear. "I'm not sure you'll be first in that kind of boarding, either, matey."

The eldest of the triplets turned to stare at the youngest. "We'll see about that. Donal, where are your shipmates? Have we frightened them off?"

"Not at all," Donal assured them. "Prince Seamus is getting the longboat ready to head back out, you know how the tides can be in this place. And Prince Cathal is...well...he says he's checking on the evening's stores, but I think he's been resting." He smiled in a rather devilish way. "I think he was a little daunted by your, um, appetites, shall we say?"

Robin looked to Violet and Hazel and felt the colour coming to her cheeks. "Daunted did you say?" Hazel began. "By her appetites?" She looked back to Robin and met her gaze. "Maybe we need to give him a break, someone who might move at a slower speed..." Her mouth moved over to Donal's right ear and she gave it just a nibble before she licked at the side of his neck. "Would you like to meet my sister this time, Donal?" she whispered to him, one hand sliding down his torso and around to the tented fabric of his pantaloons.

"What did you have in mind?" he asked. His gaze ran up and down Robin's still bundled up form before settling on her eyes. Hazel chuckled and slipped the soft material of his breeches down and brought him out by the shaft. She met Robin's look as well and raised an eyebrow. Robin shrugged off her cloak and revealed her own tunic and breeches garb, but close fitted and showing off every bit of her female form. Donal's hips moved slowly, drawing him back and pushing him forward across Hazel's palm.

Violet rolled her eyes and made her way past both sisters towards the other end of the longboat. She motioned to someone in the water to shove off and then held out an arm to draw them aboard. A glance behind her showed that Robin had knelt down before Donal and replaced Hazel's hand with her own.

"How long before we make the other side and the dancing?" Violet asked Seamus as he shook what he could of the water from him. 

"Should be same as usual, 'bout an hour I'd guess. Then there'll be feasting and anything else that your Highnesses require."

"Hmm" She leaned backwards and let Seamus hold her weight against his chest while she offered him a kiss. He accepted the offer and their tongues bandied about for several long breaths before Violet broke off and rose to stand fully on her feet. "Wake Cathal, I think I may require 'something else' sooner than that."

She slowly began undressing while watching Robin bob her face up and down Donal's shaft. Violet watched as Hazel helped the prince rest himself against some of the crates on the boat and ease his hand between her thighs. Her older sister ran her lips all the way into his Highness' hairs and back out again. She paused and sucked on the dark knob of flesh that capped the thick shaft in her grasp.

Donal sighed and bit his lip, doing his best to entertain Hazel while letting Robin entertain him. He hadn't figured on anything like this when he first encountered the three princesses. If that what they are. Westingfield? He still was unsure where that was.

As they sailed off towards the rendezvous, Seamus steered the boat about to the correct heading and muttered an obscure word of power over the rudder. Donal and Cathal had paid a pretty penny for the enchantment that allowed some of their boats to both propel and steer themselves through the water, but it was Seamus who always found the best times to use them. He looked over to Princess Violet disrobing and teasingly twisting the dark purple nipples on her pale, porcelain breasts as she watched Donal and her sisters. 

With a start, he shook himself from watching her and moved to get Cathal. He looked about and found the other prince snoring upon a sack of limes and gave him a kick. Cathal started to ask what was going on, but saw the naked princess and jumped to his feet.

Together, Seamus and Cathal stepped up to either side of Princess Violet and took over on fondling her nipples while they each caressed her ass and teased her pussy. She moaned and then turned to push Seamus to the deck and mount him. She leaned forward along his torso and looked back to Cathal. "Give it to me," she told him.

"Aye aye, Captain," Cathal answered as he knelt behind Violet and began opening her up with fingers and tongue. She shook her head and pointed to a nearby cask of oil. Cathal nodded as poured a generous amount over both his cock and Violet's backside, using his fingers to grease her up internally as well. He pressed his hardness against her opening and began to enter her. Within moments, shy, reserved Violet was nowhere to be found...just a screaming, swearing she-devil like the ones she wrote about in her stories.

Hazel leaned her head on Donal's shoulder as his fingers found purchase and began rocking herself on them as much, if not more so, than Donal's pumping of them in and out of her sex. Even as she was bringing herself to climax, something inside her heart was thrumming away--echoing a voice in her mind, No, no, no....you, we must not... we're princesses, not pirates. 



Enchanted Twelve: Triplets Ch. 02



Author's note: This is part of a Chain story detailing a new twist to an old legend, The Twelve Dancing Princesses. Please indulge yourself in the other parts of this Chain and partake of all the adventures of our Enchanted Twelve. Magic, romance, and sex are waiting for you.

---------

Oarthland

The flicker in the yellow light of the oil lamp on his desk told Prince Donal that someone had entered his chambers as surely as if he'd had a bell on the door. He glanced up from the thick volume before him and looked at the figure over the top of the many similar books, logs, and sheaves of parchment and vellum upon the surface of the usually tidy desktop. "Yes?" he asked. "Any word yet?"

Prince Seamus shook his head. "Nothing yet. They seem to come and go without any sign of their passing. Cathal even took it upon himself to track them. He said it was easy enough, what with the worn footwear leaving obvious marks on the trail, but that they only went but so far into the woods and then...nothing." He shrugged and took a seat by the desk. "How about you? Any luck in finding this Westingfield?"

Donal sighed. "Variations. Similar sounding places. But nothing that is referred to by that name on a regular basis, and certainly not on a level to have princesses. It's like they're phantoms come to us from somewhere beyond the edge of the world."

"Well, as long as they continue to come to us, with us, and for us, they could rise from Hell itself and I'm not so sure I would care. Cathal would probably say the same thing."

"I know what you mean." An echo of bells chiming and a call from the lookout tolled the time and Donal looked to the grand clock in his chamber. "Almost time to drop the longboat," he said. "Go see if Cathal is ready, I'll be up in a moment." He rose from his chair and began changing his clothes. Seamus chuckled.

"There have been times these last few months when I wonder why we bother wearing clothes to meet the princesses at all. It's not like they'll stay on for long."

"Decorum and image, my friend." Donal laughed as well. "We may be pirates, but we're also Sea Princes and have a reputation for being dashing and all that. Face it, fit as we are, naked and dashing don't go hand in hand."

"Good point," Seamus conceded as he headed out. He paused by the door and looked over his shoulder. "Besides, I'm not sure I want to see you or Cathal without your clothes unless it involves a naked princess--or three."

---------

Westingfield

Groaning, Princess Violet got out of bed and began getting herself ready for the day's activities. It is getting worse. Whatever it is. She stood and stretched, eliciting more protests from her aching joints and body. Her sisters were still asleep, she saw, although Hazel seemed to be having disturbed dreams and Robin was sprawled in an odd way upon her bed. Robin had her legs mostly apart, and one hand rested along her thigh and between them as if she might have been unconsciously pleasuring herself during the night. With a slight sigh and a shake of her dark curls, Violet leaned over slightly and pulled the coverlet more fully over Robin's splayed figure, then drew herself up on tiptoe and tucked Hazel's blanket in close and gave her a kiss on the forehead. She worried about them. Both of her older triplets seemed so worldly sometimes. Robin was given to being naughty and flirtatious, while Hazel always had to be the best of the three of them. Making up for a few minutes difference between herself and Robin.

And me? What am I trying to make up for? Violet sighed and sat on the floor by her bed. She drew forth one of her notebooks, wedged a couple of pillows behind her to lean against, and settled her lap desk into place. She made certain that quill and ink were nearby--not to mention a sufficiently sizable stack of blotters--and opened the notebook.

"Now, where was I?" she asked aloud as she perused the last page with material written upon it. Her brow furrowed and her eyes widened as she read the debauched scene transcribed in her own neat, feathery script. What is this? She slammed the book shut with a great slap of the pages upon themselves, and pitched it away as she upended her desk and got to her feet. The noise of the notebook and desk hitting the floor prompted a pair of disgruntled moans from the beds beside and above Violet.

"Keep it down, Vi, some of us aren't early birds," Robin said.

"What ever are you doing down there?" added Hazel as she leaned over the side of her bed.

Violet swallowed a moment to take a breath, then smiled and gave her sisters a little shrug. "Spider. That's all it was. I got startled and dropped everything all of a sudden. Go back to bed, it can't be morning for either of you yet."

Robin stuck her head out from beneath the canopy provided by Hazel's bed and looked up at her middle triplet. "Does she expect us to buy that? Come on, now, Violet, there's few of any of the twelve of us that would startle for a spider. I think Merry may even like them. Tell us what is really wrong."

Violet sighed and stepped to retrieve her notebook. "Very well. Here, then, see what you make of this latest story of mine," she said as she handed the journal to Robin. Hazel slipped over the side of her bed and dropped lightly to the floor, then joined Robin in looking at the story.

"Is it about the pirates? I love listening to you tell those tales," she asked. Within moments, she leaned back and looked at her youngest triplet, then to Robin, and then back to Violet once more. "I'm not so sure I would love to hear this one. Whatever possessed you to write such as this?"

Violet nodded and tears began to well in her eyes. "Possessed is just what I was thinking. I do not recall having written it. I don't even remember having such thoughts." Okay, perhaps I have had them. She reproached herself mentally and wondered anew at the aches she had awoken with. 

Robin stood up and offered her arms to Violet. They hugged, and Hazel joined them. "There, there, it is nothing to cry over. I am sure of it. Do you want to take this to Danielle? Somehow, I don't think it's anything we ought to worry Mother about, just yet."

"Just yet?" Violet broke the embrace and looked at Robin in horror. "That will not happen. Can you see her reaction? It's bad enough we are all dropping off at the dinner table and daily having to have shoes--or more, have you seen the state of some of our dresses and undergarments of late--mended or replaced, but to say that I've begun writing tawdry tales of things we're not really supposed to know about until our wedding night?"

Hazel placed a hand upon Violet's arm and turned her to meet her eyes. Her hand slid down Violet's arm and took her hand. Hazel clenched it tightly and then squeezed it even more. "Relax. Let's go about the day as normal, but let us go through all your recent journals and take notes on anything else that seems untoward or that you fail to remember writing. Then...and only then...will we speak with Danielle, or anyone else, about it."

Robin nodded and moved behind Hazel to look Violet in the face as well. "Sounds like a plan. Agreed?"

"Agreed."

"Fine." Robin looked to the window and the pale glow visible through the shades. "Then, as we are up anyways, let's bathe and dress and see about breakfast."

---------

Oarthland

The pair of men sat upon barrels in the middle of the ship. The worn codger had seen almost too many years at sea, but still loved to come aboard a fine vessel when the chance presented itself. And, on hearing the scuttlebutt through the grapevine that the Sea Princes were paying for specialized information, Gormic had all the excuse he needed to come breathe in the salt air and tread upon a firm deck once more.

"I thank you for coming," Prince Cathal said to the man as he handed Gormic a small purse. "As you requested, the money is in assorted coinage." He let it fall onto the informant's outstretched palm and smiled at the look on the old man's face at the sound it made. He's probably not had a purse that clinked rather than jingled before. I'll have to have the Harbormaster watch over him while he's in the area. Would not do to have him mugged within sight of our ships.

"Thank ye, Captain. Yes, a traveler and merchant as I have become needs to vary up where his money comes from. Some people there is who have a problem with the pictures stamped on this or that coin."

"But not you?"

Gormic laughed deep and hearty at the very thought. "I could care less, truth be told. Gold and silver is gold and silver, so it is, and you could mark it with pixies and puppy dogs and it'd still be worth what it's worth." He nodded to Cathal and turned to make his way down to the pier and home again. Cathal shook his head slightly as he watched him go. If that is my fate in three score years, than may the Kraken take me to the sea floor well before then.

Seamus emerged from below, just then, and waved to him. Cathal closed to his fellow Sea Prince and looked at the empty space behind him. "Let me guess," Cathal said, "he's still dressing." Seamus nodded and Cathal smiled and then laughed. Donal could be a bit fastidious for someone in their line of work. Cathal then shrugged. "Well, that's fine. We're almost ready, but not quite. I had a visit from someone with some information for us."

"Really?"

"Old seadog named Gormic. Says he worked for DPR back in the day, and heard tell that we were paying for information about a place called Westingfield. He's not been, but he has heard other people discussing it in recent months."

"Indeed. What sort of people? Did he give you names or has another bag of our gold walked off for nothing?"

Cathal smirked and raised an eyebrow. "And who's fault was that? Never mind, the names he gave were some of the other Princes we have met or had pointed out to us at some of these dances the Princesses drag us off to. Apparently, we're not the only ones to be interested in exactly where the sisters come from. And, at least one man, seems to be trying to gain himself passage there." He stopped for a breath and to let the first boot settle upon the deck.

"Gormic says he's heard that such a passage may have been found."

Seamus started at this last bit and grabbed Cathal by both shoulders to turn him and meet his eyes. "Is true? We must tell Donal, at once."

"Tell Donal what?" Seamus and Cathal looked to the doorway into the lower decks and at the now quite dashing Prince Donal. He raised an eyebrow in the silence that hung between them, and then stepped closer. Before he could ask again, the pair quickly began filling him in on what Gormic had told Cathal and what it might mean for their own search into where the Princesses had come from and who or what they might really be.

Donal signaled to his men to finish getting the longboat ready, and then the three Sea Princes were lowered to the water and set off to meet the triplets once more.

---------

Westingfield

"How can this be?" Robin was saying to her closest siblings. Over the course of the afternoon, whenever they could get out of official duties and studies, the three of them had gone over Violet's journals. They had started with the most recent, and worked back from there. Hazel and Robin marked anything that seemed unusual to their eye, and Violet reread those passages to confirm or deny the supposed strangeness therein.

"It's like we have been living two lives. All of us." Much of what Violet had written about had not made much sense alone, but when matched to other entries or when the three of them discussed what was written with dreams they had had or odd comments or interactions between them and the other nine princesses; it was surprisingly clear what had been happening to them.

Violet bit her lip as she tried to keep her fraying emotions in check. She felt like an overfull levee, waiting for that one last storm to make her burst forth or overflow to flood the surrounding plains. "Now can we go to Danielle?" she asked. She really wanted to take this to their mother, but all of them were used to following the established chain. Danielle always came before any of the adults in their lives--not trusting chambermaids, or learned tutors, or caring governesses. And, certainly, not Queen Andrea.

"What do you think, Hazel?" Robin asked.

"I think we should wait until tomorrow," she replied after a moment's thought. "The writings in Violet's journals are daily, as they always have been, but the odd passages only seem to be now and then. I don't know. Maybe it's like we're charmed or bewitched and so only the most intense events manage to slip their way into her mind and then onto her pages. We have spent so much of the day in tracking these things, let us allow one more night to pass by and see what happens."

Violet looked alarmed. "But what if we don't know what happens? Maybe it will be a quiet night or a night that cannot slip through the magicks that have been upon us?"

"We will tell Danielle of our discoveries tomorrow, no matter what. Will that work?"

Robin and Violet nodded to Hazel, and the three of them proceeded to get ready for bed.

---------

But even as had happened the night before, and many other nights through the last several months, sleep came fitfully and then was interrupted altogether by the enchantment laid upon them. One by one, all three of the triplet princesses rose from their bed, dressed themselves in traveling clothes, and headed into the hall to meet up with their similarly enspelled sisters. Once more, they were watched by an unseen figure who followed the lot of them along the palace pathways, down into the forest, and through the portal back to Oarthland.

Once at the water's edge, the clouding of their minds faded and the three of them rushed forth to meet with their Sea Princes. This night, there was no intermingling of ties, for each man claimed the woman who had come to mean the most to him. By their embraces, one would have thought they'd been apart for weeks rather than mere hours. Robin reminded everyone that the night would pass quickly if they didn't make an effort to stay on track, and so the six separated and began getting underway to meet with the rest of the princesses and the men they had been seeing.

Donal helped Robin and Violet into the boat, while Hazel splashed about with Seamus and Cathal, helping them to ready to turn the longboat and head back out into the water. Once aboard, Seamus and Cathal reclined upon the deck and let their pants dry, while Hazel ducked down into the small, covered space that served as a hold on a boat that was not really large enough for a true below-deck area.

"Where's she going?" Donal asked.

Seamus laughed. "She slipped and soaked herself completely from head to toe. I mentioned that there might be dry clothes to match her own finery in the chests we took from those Belarin merchants last month, and off she went."

Cathal gave Violet a bit of a squeeze and leaned in to nuzzle her neck. "Heh, and here I was thinking Hazel was the tough one and you the girlie type."

His laughter was cut short by a jab in the belly from Violet's elbow. "I'll show you girlie," she said as she clamped a hand between his thighs and grabbed his personal treasure. Cathal slipped down to lie on his back upon the deck, his speech reduced to a series of gasping protests. Robin and Seamus laughed all the louder, while Donal merely shook his head and stepped off to see if Hazel needed help finding those chests.

She had found things just find without him, he discovered when he ducked down into the space. Hazel stood with her back to Donal. She was naked except for her hose and held a fresh pair of those in one hand while looking about for a place to sit and change them. "Need a hand?" he asked. 

Hazel turned suddenly at the sound of his voice and looked at Donal with widening eyes. "What's the matter?" he asked as he stepped in closer. Hazel backed up from his approach, holding the new hose before her in an attempt to cover her exposed body. Donal cocked his head and tried to look Hazel in the eye, only to have her shift her head away and avert her gaze.

"Do you always burst in on a lady changing clothes?"

"I'm not in the habit, no, but this is hardly bursting in." He gestured to the makeshift walls and partial ceiling of the space around them. "This is practically out in public. Do you always change your clothes in such a place?"

Hazel swallowed and turned her face away from Donal entirely. "No, I'm a princess. Good and proper and well brought up and I wouldn't have to change if I...I..." She whirled about and looked at the Sea Prince. "What am I doing here? I found myself, just now, standing here in nothing but sopping wet hose, looking down on yet another pair of ruined shoes and...and...oh, Andrew will be so cross. And Mother?"

Donal took a step back. "Who's Andrew?"

"Our cobbler. He makes the best boots and slippers and dancing shoes. They've moved him into the castle because we've been just terrible at keeping our footwear presentable of late. I just don't know why. And then there's the dreams. Violet and all those pirate stories of hers."

Pirate stories? Donal's mind tried to sort out what Hazel was talking about, even while the rest of him was more interested in the way her breasts heaved while she spoke and worked herself into a tizzy--and, especially, how her nipples jutted out in reaction to being cold and wet. "It'll be okay," he told her. "You remember who I am, right?"

"Well, sure, you're Donal the Sea Prince, I suppose, from Violet's description of you. You and me are always being put together into...various...assorted...oh no." Hazel's voice trailed away for a moment, and her eyes widened all over again as she took in her surroundings as if for the first time.

"Hazel? Calm down...Hazel...come back here..."

The middle triplet backed away from Donal and returned to the main deck of the longboat. "Violet?" she called out. "Robin?" Donal hurried after her and almost ran her down as he found her just a step or two away. Hazel stood with her mouth open and her hands at her sides, nakedness forgotten at the surprise of the scene before her.

Violet was on her knees with her forearms resting upon a large barrel, hands together, and her head lying against her hands. Her dress was hiked up over her back, and a man knelt behind her. He had one hand entwined in her panties, holding them to one side, while his other spread open the folds of her pussy to let his tongue have better access to her.

A mere step or two away, Robin knelt between the legs of another man and bobbed her face up and down upon his lap. Hazel watched in amazement as each downward motion Robin's head made let her mouth fully envelop the thick cock being slowly thrust between her lips.

Hazel stared. We are in one of Violet's stories. Not the usual ones, but the parts I always wished she would tell us about. She swallowed nervously, even as her sisters turned to regard her with questioning eyes.

Donal stepped up behind Hazel and gently rested a hand upon her hip. He leaned in to whisper in her ear. "Are things becoming clearer?" he asked. She took in a deep breath and bit her lip as she tilted her head to look at him over her shoulder.

"I don't understand," she whispered. "We're princesses. Real princesses, not pirate ones." His hand began caressing her body, working its way up to slowly touch and fondle the breast on that side of her torso. Hazel sighed at the way Donal's fingers found her hard nipple and toyed with it in such a practiced manner.

He chuckled, then kissed her cheek and neck before turning his attention to her ear. "You can be both, you know," he told her. "I can see all of us will have much to speak of later on; but, for now, come...lie with me and be my princess. My domain is not as grand as some, and Sea Prince may not be as glorious as other titles, but it has its moments."




Enchanted Twelve: Triplets Ch. 02



Hazel turned to face Donal. Their eyes met fully for the first time since the boat had set off to the Dancing Place, and she smiled at him. Hazel leaned in and kissed him lightly on the lips, then draped her arms about his neck and kissed him slowly with an open mouth. When their tongues paused in playing and they broke for air, she embraced Donal and whispered in his ear.

"Then take me below, silly."

Donal laughed as he swept Hazel into his arms and carted her back into the faux hold of the longboat. Violet and Robin exchanged looks as the couple disappeared from view, then shrugged and returned to their own affairs.