Flogging the Prince

When the Queen summoned Rebecca to her chambers, the poor servant girl wondered what she’d done wrong. It could only be one thing. Her encounter with the stablehand last week, up in the barn’s loft. But how had the Queen found out about that, and why did she care?

Rebecca untied her filthy apron, smoothed down her pinafore as best she could, and hurried through the castle hallways to the royal suites.

On the way, she tied back her red hair into a hasty ponytail and did her best to wipe the grime from her face.

A handmaiden ushered her inside the Queen’s chambers with little fuss. Thick rugs of crimson and purple covered the floor, and intricate tapestries adorned the walls. A four post bed occupied the centre of the suite, and beyond that, a large porcelain bathing tub. The Queen turned from where she’d been looking out a window. She wore a simple white gown and a friendly, motherly face.

“Ah, there she is!” The Queen clapped her hands together and walked over. Rebecca performed her best courtesy. A clumsy one.

“No need for that, dear. We’re going to be co-conspirators, you and I.” laughed the Queen. “How old are you, lass?”

“Seventeen, your majesty.”

The Queen nodded. “A young woman for sure, then.” She tutted and picked at Rebecca’s pinafore sleeve.” These clothes aren’t very flattering though, are they? You must have some womanly curves starting under there somewhere, eh?”

Rebecca blushed and said nothing.

The questioning continued. “Tell me, Rebecca, have you lain with a boy yet, or even a man perhaps?”

There was no point lying. “I was with the stablehand just last week. I’m….. sorry.” the apology felt needed, even though it was somewhat nonsensical.

“Excellent.” the Queen clapped again. “Then we won’t be taking your maidenhood. That makes me feel so much better.”

The serving girl’s heart sank. She’d heard the rumours about the Queen tiring of the King’s attentions in the bedchamber. Was she being recruited as a mistress for the monarch? The old King was a fat, boarish type. This would be hell.

The Queen must have detected her disquiet. She leaned in, as if they might be overheard.

“It’s ok dear, it’s not the King, it’s the Prince.”

Her heart lifted, although confusion remained. “But Prince Hamish is just a lad.”

“He’s thirteen, actually. Although I’ll grant you, sometimes he acts younger. He’s a little…. slow, you see.”

Rebecca knew full well. Rumours of the Prince were as plentiful as rumours about his father. Prince Hamish was said to be slightly retarded.

“And you want me to bed him?” There was no other way of putting it.

The Queen smiled coyly. “Yes, but also teach him.” She placed her hands on Rebecca’s shoulders and steered her to the bathing tub. “Let’s get you clean first, shall we? Come on, out of those rags!”

There was no denying a direct order, not from the monarch. And not when she was actually pulling at your clothes already.

Her clothes went over her head, or down her legs, whichever was easiest, until she stood nude beside the tub.

“Let’s have a look at you, then!” The Queen stood back. “On my, Hamish is a lucky boy, isn’t he! I told you there was a young woman under there.”

Rebecca looked down at herself. She supposed her body was as expected. Her boobs had grown out this year and were now a nice handful, at least according to the stablehand. Stolen pastries from the kitchen had not yet betrayed her flat tummy, and…”

The Queen exclaimed, “A beautiful flaming red bush between your legs, too! We must explain to Hamish that not all girls look like that. Otherwise, he might be disappointed by his subsequent encounters.”

There was no room for any more embarrassment, so the redheaded serving girl simply smiled.

“Into the tub with you then. It’s nice and warm. My handmaidens prepared it not ten minutes ago.”

The water was indeed warm and soothing after a day’s work. She sank into it and tried not to let the situation overwhelm her. So, she had to lay with the Prince. There were worse fates than that in the Kingdom.

The Queen left to attend to something and Rebecca wondered how long she was allowed in the bath. A large fluffy white towel lay folded on a sideboard, so once she’d washed the day’s dirt away, she stepped out and dried herself, then wrapped the towel around her and waited.

It was only a minute before she heard “But Mother…I…” from outside

“Oh stop whining Hamish! I’ve never heard anyone so ungrateful. She’s a delight!”

The Queen practically dragged her son into the chamber. She must have woken him, because he wore nothing but shorts and a nightshirt. His dark hair was ruffled, and he yawned. His face borrowed the cheery friendliness of his mother’s, but even from across the room, an astute observer could see that he wasn’t as sharp.

His mother smiled apologetically. “He spends way too much time in bed. Playing with himself, no doubt. That’s part of the problem. He’ll be courting soon, and he knows nothing of the other sex. Doesn’t even speak to his cousins when they visit. Do you Hamish?”

Hamish shrugged.

The Queen moved a white, wooden chair from a corner and placed it facing the side of the bed. She sat her son on the bed’s edge. “Now, we’re going to show you some things and then lovely Rebecca here is going to bed you. I trust you haven’t already had your nightly fiddle?”

“Mother!”

He did as he was told, and Rebecca already knew the chair was for her. She walked over before being asked.

“Good lass,” said the Queen and beckoned for the towel. “This won’t take long, I’d imagine.”

There was little point sitting demurely on the chair, as she had her knees pushed apart almost instantly by the Queen. But apparently that wasn’t enough, because then each foot was lifted as well and placed at the chairs front corners. Thus she sat, feet up, knees apart, presenting her naked crotch to the young prince, not three yards away.

Hamish began to pay more attention. “Lovely cunt!” he said and earned a clip around the ear from his mother.

“We’re not in the King’s guard, you wretch. We don’t use that word.”

Rebecca stared at the ceiling and wondered when this would end.

The Queen, oblivious to her plight, continued, “We’ll use the word pussy, thank you. Or maybe in the heat of the moment you can call it her cunny. But say it nicely. because you’re right…it IS lovely. Now, not all girls have red hair down there, most have black, some other shades. And if I catch you trying to play with girls that have no hair at all down there, you’ll be in big trouble, right?”

Hamish answered without taking his eyes off the girl’s exposed crotch, “I think we should call her Becky”, he said, as if he’d just been given a kitten.

The Queen rolled her eyes. “He says the darndest things some time.”

Rebecca found her voice. She decided that things might go a little quicker if she played her part.

“You can call me Becky, my Prince,” she said and watched him smile. She turned to the Queen. “Would you like me to show him…down there?” The Queen nodded. “I’ll make myself scarce. I know you’re embarrassed enough. But don’t let him spill his seed before the most important part!” she winked, and left the room.

“Show me then, Becky.” The cheeky prince laughed when his mother had gone.

Rebecca shifted in the seat, getting as comfortable as she could, and then moved a hand down between her legs.

“Ok, you already know this is my cunny.” and she lowered her voice to a whisper. “But when your mother’s not around, you can call it my cunt if you like.” May as well get the boy onside.

“Yay! I love your cunt, Becky!”

“Shush! I can tell.” she smiled, and then spread her labia open just slightly so he’d have a better view through the red hair. “These you can call a girl’s lower lips, or cunny lips maybe. And they’ll look different for each girl…but kinda the same, if you know what I mean.”

The reply was honest. “Not really.” Rebecca almost wished there was another girl here to illustrate the point.

“Anyway, “she went on. “There are the main cunny lips that are just the outside, hmm…gate, if you like, and then inside….” and she spread her fingers wider. “See how I’ve got more skin in there? Those are the inside lips. Sometimes you can see them in the middle of the main lips, without needing to do this.”

She thought she was losing him and decided not to cover peeing. There wasn’t any point, or even talk too much, about her little magic button at the top. Hamish did not seem the kind of lover that would pay it much attention. But it was still worth a mention.

“Right at the top. It’s hard to see and sometimes hard to find in bed. There’s a little spot that makes me feel really nice. The Maester calls it a clit…. I think.” she paused a moment, remembering, “Some girls call it their clitty.”

Hamish pulled at himself inside his pants with more vigour. “Cunny and clitty”, he said, “That’s funny.”

Rebecca couldn’t help but giggle. “Yes it is, isn’t it?” She noticed his hand moving. “Hey, not too soon! Now, when you lay with a girl, you need to put your….what do you call it? What you’re holding now.”

Hamish looked down at his pants and it was his turn to blush. “That’s my Princes sword. But the guards say it’s my little cock.” he shrugged.

“Lets call it your cock then, because some girls might be scared if they think you’re going to use a sworn on them.” Rebecca smiled, and Hamish followed suit.

“The best part of my cunny, for you anyway,” she said, it’s down here. “It’s where you put your cock inside. But only when the girl is ready, ok? She needs to get wet first or it will hurt.”

He looked bemused again, so she simplified things. “Just ask her if she’s ready, ok? before you put it in.”

Hamish seemed satisfied with that.

Rebecca let her fingers go with relief and said cheekily, “And now it’s your turn. Let’s see that lovely cock of yours!”

When he seemed slow to respond, she got off the chair, pushed it aside and kneeled on the floor beside the bed, reaching for his pants. “May I?” she asked. He nodded again.

She pulled his pants down his legs and his erect cock sprang free. It was no sword, but then she remembered the poor lad was only thirteen. Still, it was at least hard. The foreskin pulled from his red bulb, the cock pointing proudly skyward, a few inches above his ball sack, surrounded by a smattering of black pubes.

“You have a marvellous cock, my Prince.” she complimented him without a hint of mockery. “I suppose you know all about your own body?”

“Of course!” he said proudly. “My cock serves me every night!”

She believed him and tried not to laugh.

“And do you think you’re close to spilling your seed now?” she asked, and cupped his balls in her fingers.

He grunted with pleasure. “I am when you do that! Your hand feels better than mine!”

“My cunny feels even better, I’d say, but we have to use my hand to spill your seed at the end, ok?”

“Ok, but please don’t take too long.”

Rebecca worried that he wouldn’t last. So she pushed him back on the bed. “Normally, you’d be on top, but today I’ll go on top. Don’t worry, girls like it, and when you can last longer, you’ll probably do both. And other positions too.” She straddled him, her crotch inches above his erection, and reached down for his hand, placing it between her legs. “Can you feel that, my prince? I’m getting damp.” Fortunately, it was no lie. The perverted exposure, the talk, and the sight of his cock, regardless of size, had excited her. She guided his fingers and rubbed them against her clitty. Hamish grunted, “Feels nice.”

“Wait till you feel this!” and with that Rebecca lowered herself onto him, sliding down onto his stiff cock, letting it sink all the way up until she could feel his ball sack against her groin. When she felt his hips lift, she knew he understood. “That’s the way,”

Three or four thrusts inside her had him panting and close. So she slid off him and returned to kneeling on the floor. “I’ll finish you now. Just lie back.”

“Thank you Becky”, he managed to grunt.

His cock was wet from inside her and her hand slid easily along its shaft. She played with his balls with her other hand, squeezing them and tickling them until he was lifting his hips again. She squeezed a little tighter and rubbed her thumb over his swollen head until he shuddered and moaned, “I’m going to spill.”

“Good boy. Give me your seed. Empty those lovely balls.”

And he did, all over her fingers. Royal cum spurted from his rooster-red head three times as Rebecca pushed her knuckles up under his balls, where she felt him pumping from inside.

A clapping noise startled her from behind. “That’s my boy!” The Queen stood in the doorway laughing. “I got here just in time for the finale.”

Rebecca washed up with the tub of water and found her old clothes. She slipped out the door while the spent boy on the bed was interrogated by his mother. She wanted to him to retell the whole encounter.

The last thing she heard from the chamber was “Can we keep her Mummy?”