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ingenewitty -> Sweet abigail (4/26/2015 1:11:21 PM)
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Flanked by two of the Royal guards, she entered the room quietly, eyes lowered as was customary in the presence of the King. Her arms were bound together behind her from elbow to wrist, and the peasant dress she was clothed in did little to conceal her bareness beneath it. The King ordered his guards to help the servant girl up onto the platform in front of him, and then directed his orders at her.
'Kneel Abigail, legs spread'.
The young woman did so with a preciseness that indicated she had done so many times before, and the guards, sharing the same level of familiarity but awaiting the Kings orders, when given his nod attached ropes to the leather cuffs already encircling her ankles.
Dismissing the guards, the King once again turned his attention on his charge.
'You may raise your eyes Abigail and properly greet the Prince'. At once, the young woman perhaps the age of 21, raised her eyes and, with flushed cheeks, greeted the young man seated before her. She had seen the prince many times before of course, but never this closely. Like his father, he was strong in both stature and character, however, he was known to have a warmth and kindness that most would believe was absent from the King's own personality.
'You will now introduce yourself, Abigail and outline your duties to my son'.
Young Abigail's eyes moved steadily from the King's to the Prince's, and she spoke in a clear, yet soft voice, the crimson in her cheeks deepening with each word. 'To most I am Abigail, but to his Lordship, I am his little whore. I have only one duty and that is to please the King.'. She longed to divert her eyes from the Prince's own, but knew all to well that doing so before she was permitted would cause a swift and painful punishment.
The Prince looked startled and spoke. "To please the King?", he stammered, "In what manner do you mean to please the King?!". 'In any manner he wishes'. Contrary to his own, Abigail's reply was calm and matter of fact, the colour in her cheeks the only testament to her discomfort.
The King, taking in this brief exchange, interjected. 'Abigail's duties will quickly become apparent to you my son, for she is prepared for a day of 'demonstration' shall we say? Perhaps at the end of the day we will more enjoy referring to her as his Lordship's dirty little whore, won't we my pet?' With that the King stood, removing his sword from its sheath and approaching the girl bound before him.
'Remain very still', the King whispered in a tone laced with unmistakable warning as he began cutting away her dress with the tip of his sword, 'my sword has just been sharpened by the blacksmith this morning'. Soon the dress fell away, and the girl knelt entirely naked before the two men, the elder of the two sitting back to enjoy his handiwork, the younger leaning forward looking incredulous at the young woman before him, wanting, but not being able to, divert his eyes.
She was unlike any woman that he had seen naked before. For one, she was thinner than most, her breasts small and round, her nipples a delicious pink, each of which was pierced with a dark metal ring. She had long unruly blonde hair on her head, but an unmistakeable absence of it anywhere else on her body. She was in fact entirely hairless.
The King smiled watching his son take in the view of the servant girl. He was not naïve enough to believe his son had never laid with a woman before, but he knew that he would never have seen a woman such as this.
'Abigail, tell the Prince what you are to wear in my presence'.
'What I am wearing now, Sire'.
'But, you are wearing nothing at all!? You are to be naked?! At all times?! But what if a guard should enter?!'.
The King motioned for Abigail to answer. 'I am to remain naked, Sire'.
"Naked and....?', the King prompted. 'Naked and shaved', the girl replied. 'This is the King's preference'.
"Such an intimate place to be shaved? Who does it?", the Prince asked, his curiosity overtaking his politeness.
"Usually it is one of the more matronly maids, unless I am have digressed in my duties, then it is one of the guards". "Continue", ordered the King. "If it is a guard, he is given a large tool to insert in my wetness, keeping my sex taut so his job may be made easier. After all, it is not he who is being punished."
The Prince sat back quietly, taking in the information thus far, as his father stood and approached the servant. He held a riding crop generally used when out on his horse and used it instead to lift the small ring in the young woman's nipple.
"And what are these used for Abigail?", the King inquired, meaning for her to direct her explanation to his son.
'They are used for a variety of reasons, Sire. When his Lordship wishes for me to remain in one area he passes a chain through them locking me there. The chain is generally fastened when I sleep, and sometimes it is attached to his Lordship's breaches if he wishes me to accompany him anywhere at all during the day. At times, of course, he just enjoys playing with them.' With this, the Prince was almost certain he saw a faint smile pass her lips.
"And explain the day that you were adorned with them, Abigail". Ordered the King, in a tone markedly more soft than before.
"Aye well, it did hurt quite a lot Sire. When I was returned to the King, I undressed immediately as I always do when I enter his chamber. He told me to hold onto the rope fastened high above my head so that he may get a better view of the blacksmith's handiwork, and asking me if it had hurt very much. I did reply that it did, but that if it pleased him...He took hold of the rings, gently pulling them, twisting them, testing that they would remain steadfast in my nipples. I remember him kissing me lightly, telling me to be a good girl and remain quiet while he tested them, which of course I did. He told me that under no circumstances was I to let go of the rope above my head, which I did not." The girl hesitated for a moment, but a quick look from the King caused her to continue. "Soon he brought out the chain and, passing it through each of the two rings, he allowed me to bring my arms down. Holding the chain he pulled me slowly down into a kneeling position and allowed me to take his sex into my mouth...."
The Prince's gasp and his father's consequent laughter caused the girl to stop midsentence.
"That is enough of the explanation", the King said and with that he summoned his guard.
Upon entry, the guard, one of the two original men to have escorted the servant girl in that morning, averted his eyes. "Ah Percy, so noble of you to maintain our young Abigail's modesty by looking elsewhere. However, there is no need as you are one of my top guards, and she is but a servant girl. Please, it is not often you will see a finer example of the female form, you may look as you please." Percy, although hesitant at first, did as the King told him, after all, he did not wish to offend the King. Abigail kept her eyes fixed forward. When the King felt that Percy had his share of the view, he sent him down to the kitchen with a note for the head maid. Shortly after the door re-opened, the maid, a tall portly middle-aged woman entered, carrying a small block of lard.
The maid bowed before the King, set the block upon the table beside him and turned to leave the room, but not before stealing a quick glance filled with a mixture of pity and distaste, at the servant girl bound upon the platform.
"I have been to see the leather smith this week, little wench, and what do you think he might have made for me?" She knew his questions were rhetorical, that he was more interested in hearing himself speak than her, and so as was expected, she remained quiet. In the meantime, the King picked up a satchel from the table next to him and began to open it rather ceremoniously. Very slowly he removed from the bag a black leather object which looked very much like a three dimensional version of a spade in a deck of cards, only the edges were rounded. He could see her squirm a little at the sight of it, significantly larger than he had expected of her in the past.
"You may bend over now little wench, left cheek to the ground". She knew what the object was, but could tell by the Prince's inquisitive expression, that he did not. This was a routine that Abigail found most humiliating, and she knew the King derived great pleasure from her humility. Fortunately her backside was positioned away from the Prince's view.
The King stood and, picking up the block of lard and the leather object, he rounded the table to position himself behind her. He dragged one edge of the lard down the middle of her back with such languor that it melted leaving a shiny trail, a trail he followed with the leather plug. He continued on, not speaking but simply rubbing her back and buttocks with the lard, until they were slick with the oil. Once again he trailed the leather object, rubbing her cheeks with it, covering it with slickness. Setting down the lard, the King picked up his crop and with one swift motion he slapped Abigail's sex, causing her to gasp. "Good girl, still awake then are you?", he chuckled and once again called in the guards.
"Guards unfortunately dear Abigail is positioned rather poorly upon this table, and so we must turn it". With that he motioned for the guards to lift the table and turn it so that her open legs were in direct view of the Prince. The King once again, dismissed the guards, but not without the silent satisfaction of knowing how the situation aroused them, and moreover how it played upon Abigail's modesty.
"Now little wench, when I direct you to, you will push back, little motions, I want it to enter you slowly so the Prince may be impressed by your self control." Abigail felt thoroughly humiliated. She was used to this routine, and truly loved the sensation of being filled so completely, but she knew she ought not to enjoy it quite so much, that it did indeed make her a dirty little trollop.
And how the King enjoyed watching his little Abigail struggle between her pleasure and her humiliation. She was a girl who possessed a certain feistiness that required consistent regulation and punishment, but also a certain innocence which left the King with an insatiable desire to possess her. She had an immense hunger for pleasure, even if it meant enduring pain to get it, and she made such a myriad of noises that his Lordship often grew hard simply thinking of them. Being forced to take something into her little rosebud though, caused sweet Abigail the most profound of humiliations, and because he so thoroughly enjoyed this, the King submitted her to it often. He of course, also knew she derived great pleasure from the sensation.
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