In the days of yore, there once existed a wonderful land where fairies granted wishes and wizards cast spells. Magical creatures enchanted forests and plains and rarest of plants were enjoyed. Men conquered men and pillaged lands. Great cities were built in all their glory and fallen to weakness. Empires rose from dust lead my great men creating myths and legions.
One great man that existed had now slowed down from his days of battle and heroism on the field. He is now writing a new history of politics. In the castle of Eroma, Lord Thalanger ruled over his kingdom and lands near and far. His current situation put him between two sides of a war between Camden, just north of the Gore mountains and Dormar, due west of Eroma following the Great Pison River. Staying neutral to both sides, Thalanger dare not disturb any of the commitments and alliances of with neighboring kingdoms that are now joining on either side of this world conflict.
The fighting started when Prince Heralamin’s father was poisoned by wine sent as an adversary gift supposedly from a small neighboring land. News spread that Dormar controlled this small land. Allies of Camden attacted Dormar as a rebellion force. Newly named king, Heralamin and his army declared war on Dormar only after reports of independent armies of Dormar started pushing back boarders of defenseless lands.
Lord Thalanger sitting on a giant just as powerful as either Camden or Dormar, he waits for his move. Reports from both sides poured in on the current conflict. Thalanger had more important things to deal with. With a large spread war, thieving and border conflicts erupted from the far south forests to past the mountains of Gore. Eroma was now the central of balance for everything other than the war. If that wasn't enough to keep Lord Thalanger busy, he always had domestic problems to deal with, particularly Emerelda.
Emerelda, the step niece of Lord Thalanger held the standing of High Princess in the Land of Eroma. She was the fairest of any of the ladies and only sixteen. She was in high demand of the men, but a tease. Gorgeous beauty, delicious hips, smooth, silky skin, long, blonde hair, she was a goddess. Men chasing after did not know her like her ladies in waiting and her step uncle knew her. To the world she was a quiet beauty, enchanting and delicate. In the eyes of Thalanger, Emerelda was a bundle of fun and excitement. She was spontaneous and very energetic.
Wild and carefree, she made trouble for her ladies in waiting. To them she was a brat who wasn't put in her rightful place as often as she should be. Thalanger could never hurt his goddess, so that opportune was always instructed to a trusted knight of the king, always a right hand man.
Any friend or main man of the king was, of course, after Emerelda’s hand in marriage. She knew this, and was very embarrassed when ever one was sent to deal with her. Emerelda didn't think it right for these strangers to her to see her in such an indecent manor, a manor that was only reserved for her husband, when that time should come, and her ladies in waiting.
“No, uncle, please no, I’m sorry. It wont happen again. I promise. I really, really mean it this time.”
“Just like the last time and time before that?” Thalanger, clam as always, reasoned with his niece. She, however, was begging for mercy and running circles around him, trying to convince him of her future intent.
“No, I really mean it this time. I promise,” hold her hand in the air, stern faced, eyes close pledging, “I will never distract another stable boy from his daily duties again, ever, I promise. There. May I go, Uncle. I love you.” The princess’s charm may have gotten her out of murder for anyone else, but not Lord Thalanger.
“NO! Now, listen to me, I will send someone up soon. I recommend you retire to your quarters now before you anger who ever it will be.”
“But Uncle, do you not want me to be happy. Do you not want me to smile?”
Ignoring Emerelda’s innocent sounding questions, “Dinner will be sent to your private quarters. But supper will be survived in the main hall. You are required to attend. We have visitors.”
“But...,” she started to plea.
“Go.” Thalanger now sat at his desk writing logs and reading news of the war. Out of frustration, realizing no change of getting out of what she doesn't think she deserves, she retreats to her room. Stomping off at first, her mumbles soon evolve into song and riddles. She is dancing and skipping through the castle corridors, knocking servants over.
“My Lady, Sir Calven awaits.” Lady Abigail enters the bathing room where Lady Dora brushes Princess Emerelda’s long hair. Spying at her reflecting in a bathing bowl in front of her, Emerelda prepared herself for the inevitable.
“Sir whom?” Straight faced and cocky she asked.
“Sir Knight Calven, he has just arrived shortly. He comes with King Abmute this evening for supper. Of the Demporth Region?” No matter what Lady Abigail says, Emerelda does not turn or respond. “Your Lady,” she curtsies and walks off.
“Leave me.” Emerelda excuses her Ladies and they exit her quarter. Emerelda stands and walks out of the bathing area and to the doors of her sleeping room. She slowly opens the door to discover a five foot eight, dark haired, fair skinned man on her balcony. His mud covered hands were folded neatly behind his back, boots shoulder length apart and his posture infallible. “Strip.” Sir Calven does not even turn to see this flower enter. Nervously she walks in and stand a few paces behind her discipliner. “I said strip.”
“I can not. I am unable to unlace the ribbons of my dress,” Emerelda whispers nervously.
“Are you unable to dress yourself, child?” Sir Calven remains at the window uncaring to Emerelda’s needs.
“Well, speak up child!” He commanded, a little frustrated, in his low voice. Emerelda only stood there thinking of his muscular build. Who was this man? A future king? Just another commander marked for murder on the battle field? “Child?”
“Unable.” What did she care. She was going to give him care. Who did he think he was for telling her to do something.
“Turn around, child.” She did, and she heard his heavy boots do the same. She felt her pink dress being tugged at and rudely opened. Emerelda’s creamy skin was slowly exposed to Calven. Her dress would have fallen straight to the floor if she wouldn't have caught it.
“Well, get on with it.” Calven backed up and sat himself down on her bed. How dare he. Anyone else would have half a mind to know that was absolutely unexcitable. To sit in one of her chairs would have been fine, or even to stand. But a male in this virgin princess bed! Of course Emerelda wasn't going to say anything, not to him, and not now of course. Her uncle will later catch an ear full.
This teen beauty, facing the other way, slowly let her dress slid down, exposing the naked length of her body. Emerelda shivers with the breast from the open balcony window. Everyone in the open court yard will hear her screams. She faces the the same way as Calven, hiding herself. The princess modestly covers her genitals and breasts. Only after he gave her a good look up and down, the knight grabbed her arm first spinning her so they faced then closer to him. With both hands she was forcefully bent over Calven’s lap. SMACK
The punishment started already. This was different for Emerelda. Usually her discipliner takes time to glide their hands over her soft skin. Some start soft, to watch her jiggle, or just take a long time to embarrass by just staring at her bent over. The hard strikes begin as soon as she was in place. With every pounce Calven takes a firmer grip of her delicate waist. Emerelda is kicking and screaming and crying.
Calven smiles to himself as he starts to see white to pink and pink to red. Soon white hand prints emerge from the red globes. Emerelda’s flesh danced under Calven power. Still crying, whining and shouting, her kicks became more wild. Calven has never came in contact with just a strong willed little naughty girl. He had to admit that she seemed much older and their future would be alright.