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Subject: {ASSM} Her Highness' Trial
Date: Wed, 19 Jan 2000 14:10:01 -0500
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Her Highness's Trial Part 1 (Elric the Albino) (bd, fdom, sm, span, tort,
ScFi)

Her imperial majesty, Princess Yuna, only daughter of the Emperor, stood
before me. The crowd fell silent. In her hand was the Sword of Honor, the
prize of the tournament victor.
She stood atop a small flight of white steps, resplendent in a shimmering
silver gown, her long blonde hair falling about her shoulders. She was in
her early twenties, and she was the lady of my dreams.
"Come forward, warrior, and claim your prize." Her musical voice rang out
in the sudden silence.
I climbed the steps, eyes downward respectfully. I knelt before her. I
studied the jewelled pommel of the sword in her slender white hand. She
eased her hand forward, and I kissed it.
"Rise."
I stood up. She faced me, a faint smile upon her lovely face.
"I declare you victor of the Tournament of Swords." She handed me the
sword. I took it.
The crowd erupted in deafening applause.

In the pommel of the sword, I had been told to look for a note. And find it
I did. It read thus :

Congratulations again, Azwyn of Darkheim, on your second consecutive
victory in the Tournament of Swords.
I would be honoured if you would accept my invitation of a private dinner
(non-formal dress)  at the Imperial Palace tomorrow evening, 8 pm, as per
last year.

Imperial Princess Yuna Illeia.

Thus I found myself the following evening led through the vast interior of
the Imperial Palace to a throne room where her ladyship sat reading alone.
The guards were dismissed, leaving us alone.
I looked at her. She wore a long, flowing gown this time of purest gold,
matching her hair. Above the waist she wore an intricately embroidered
sleeved lace bodice of filmy gauze. The hem of the gown reached to just
above her ankles. She wore golden high heeled shoes upon her feet.
For a moment she paid me no heed, and then she put the book aside, sighed
quietly and glanced over at me. As always under that stare my breath was
taken from me, my heart was made to beat faster.
"Well Master Azwyn. You retain your coveted title, and we meet again."
She smiled faintly, demurely.
I bowed. "Yes Highness. And might I say the greatest reward is the pleasure
of your company for another evening."
What would the evening hold for me ? Last year had been incredible enough.
Her blue eyes glittered mischievously.
"Oh indeed ?"
I bowed again.
She giggled. "Undress warrior."
I looked up at her, nodded. I had known the meaning of the reference to
"non formal dress" in her invitation. She wanted me to dress in warrior's
garb; brown leather loincloth and coverup kilt, boots, and mail shirt.
I slung the mail shirt over my head and tossed it onto the floor.
Eyes locked on hers, I unhooked the kilt. Her smile broadened as she eyed
me speculatively.
"mmm. Continue." She breathed with a smirk.
With my most charming smile, I untied the cords holding up my loincloth.
And now I stood before her in only my boots. My cock, a proud and erect
nine inches, sat up at a sharp angle, pointing directly at her.
She sighed and shook her head. "My my, you really are something."
Her Imperial Majesty rose and descended the steps, her high heels clicking
as she came. She walked toward me - her amusement for the evening - until
she stood not a few inches from me. I felt her lovely hand encircle my
prick gently but firmly, and struggled to remain calm.
Her hand caressed my shaft, her palm pinning the head of my prick to my
abdomen. Leaning forward, her lips met mine.
A long, sensuous kiss as she softly wanked me.
"This belongs to me." She stated softly, factually.
"Yes your Highness."
"I have claimed it as my own. I trust you have remained celibate as I
ordered."
"Yes your Highness."
Yes. One long year, with only the thought of her to keep me going.
She took one more long, lingering look into my eyes and, with another
giggle, turned on her heel and began walking back to her throne. She took
hold of her hair in her fingers and shook it out. Then, walking slowly away
from me, her hands untied the laces at her back and with a smooth motion
she peeled the top half of her lace gown of her body, revealing her creamy
white back. Then the gown slipped off her as she pushed it gently down off
her hips.
I stared after her with aching longing. I had not quite recalled the extent
of her beauty.
She walked away toward her throne, clad now only in her heels, elbow length
golden gloves, a golden lace garter belt, and matching lace top stockings.
Her sweet ass swaying seductively, she glanced over her shoulder at me and
giggled again.
I watched her ascend the steps.
Oh Princess Sweet.
She reached the top and with one hand on the back of her throne, swung
around to face me. And there, between the straps of her garter belt, her
neatly trimmed triangular thatch of golden womanhood beckoned.
"Have you been thinking of me warrior ?", she cooed.
I gazed stupidly at her.
She laughed, a gentle yet mocking laughter.
Regally, she seated herself into her throne, and crossed her legs.
Her eyes closed, and I watched as she played with her soft small breasts,
kneading them gently.
"Yes Your Highness. I have not stopped thinking of you."
She giggled to herself. 
She beckoned to me with her finger. I came over, began ascending the steps.
The stairway to heaven.
I reached the last step.
"Wait."
A lever at the side of the throne allowed her to recline back, so that she
lay back at an angle of about 60 degrees. She placed her hands behind her
head and lay for a moment watching me, her hair spilling out all over the
rich red velvet of the upholstery. Her spread right hand caressed her
pussy, the middle finger inserting itself between the lips.
"You're dying to fuck me aren't you ?"
I nodded. "Yes Your Highness."
"I'm a virgin Imperial Princess. I  don't do that sort of thing."
"Of course not your Highness."
She motioned for me to come forward, until my shins touched the cushioning
between her parted legs. She opened a hidden cache in the armrest of the
throne and withdrew a jar of clear ointment, gathered some into her white
hand, and promptly began rubbing it along my shaft. I felt a faint burning
sensation.
"This will make sure you don't get too excited."
Grasping my ass in her small hands, she leaned forward and took about half
of my length into her mouth. I felt come surging from my balls, but then
the burning sensation from the ointment seemed to hold it back. I gasped.
Gently she swirled her tongue around my cock, for a minute or so. Then she
stopped.
She lay back. I gazed down at her incredible body.
"On the other hand, you have won the Tournament of Swords twice, and you
are extremely fuckable."
"Thank you you're Highness."
She sighed. "Such a shame you're only a commoner. With no title to your name."
I shook my head. "Alas no."
She raised her right foot and teased my cock with her stiletto heel.
"Poor boy."
 "Are you willing to undertake my usual 'little test' for such a reward ?"
"Oh yes Your Highness. Yes -"
"Do not speak too hastily. You won last time, much to my annoyance. This
time, I shall be merciless."
I nodded. "Yes, I understand."
"I beg your pardon ?"
"Yes I understand Your Highness." I gasped.
Her foot massaging had stopped. She stared at me icily. Then her expression
softened.
"Come then. Let us have dinner before your trial begins."

We had dinner beside the fire in her private chambers. I wore the same
outfit, minus the loincloth, as per her directions, while she changed into
a red transparent evening gown. The meal was sumptuous. We drank rich red
wine and ate roast fowl, dumplings, and asparagus. We talked about my victory.



Very suddenly I began to feel a strong lethargy come over me, and I knew
immediately that her Highness had arranged for my food to be drugged with a
slow-working sedative of some sort. I remember her sitting there, reclined
in her chair, watching me with a wicked smile as she drank, laughing at my
state.
Then I fell to the floor. From afar I heard her voice.
I was drifting, drifting. I was spiraling out of control.

And then I was in a huge dark room, perhaps an underground cavern. I knew I
was in her dungeon now. I vision of such loveliness met my eyes, that I
momentarily failed to notice that I was chained by both hands to posts
either side of me, my arms stretched out tautly, entirely naked, my cock
imprisoned in a strange device that made my growing erection very painful.
The vision that met me was that of Princess Yuna walking toward me clad in
a most erotic outfit. It consisted of a black leather garter belt attached
to sheer black lace top stockings, black high heels, black leather armcuffs
that went from her wrists to about an inch or so before her elbows, a black
leather belt studded with small diamonds, a black leather collar studded
with the same, and a harness of black leather that wound around her tits,
attaching to either side of her collar. A long length of thick chain was
wound around her neck and shoulders as though she were parading a pet
snake. Her hair was pulled back from her angelic face and tied at the top
with a hair band to give it a bob-tail effect. Her eyes were lightly made
up with bluish rouge, and her lips were painted ice blue, matching her eyes.

I groaned despite myself at the sight of her. My cock, instantly, ragingly
erect at this wonderful visual stimulus before it, was straining against
the device slung around it. The more it grew, the more small teeth in the
rim of the thing bit into my flesh.
She laughed gaily, walking slowly toward me. I stared at her little pussy
transfixed.
"Look at me warrior - am I not worth suffering for ?"
I groaned. "Oh yes your Highness." I managed.
She stopped before me. I stared at her pussy, framed by the two thin garter
belt straps.
"You can look, but you can't touch. Not unless you're man enough to pass my
trial." She said in her little girl voice.
Her pussy was wet. She seemed to have smeared some silvery ointment around
the lips of her cunt.
"It's funny isn't it ? All those girls who watched you, fantasised about
you. Azwyn Darkhelm - Master of the Sword. Yet here you are with only one
thought. You think not of them, but of me. They will never have you, for I
have claimed your body as my property."
I could think of nothing to say.
"Your cock hurts doesn't it ? Poor baby."
She circled me slowly. The she came back into view.
In her hands she held the instrument with which she intended to test my
endurance. A long, wicked looking whip. She had used it briefly on me at
our last encounter. I knew it to be magical in nature.
With catlike grace, she raised it and brought it down smoothly, whistling
through the air angrily like a buzzing bee. It struck me across my left
shoulder, knocking me back and filling my mind with blinding searing pain.
One stroke.
Then another. Across the right shoulder. Pinpoint in its accuracy. She knew
well how to use it.
My world became a blur. I lost count of the blows.
My eyes struggled to see through the blood dripping from my forehead. She
had stopped, at least for the moment. She walked toward me, whip trailing
behind her. Then she was before me, her naked crotch inches from my face,
eye level with it.
I knew what I had to do. I buried my face in her womanhood and used my
tongue to bring her pleasure. Before long, she was screaming out in
delicious ecstasy. 
When she had used me to her satisfaction, she walked back to her original
place.
"Even now, in your haze of pain, you can think of nothing but fucking me."
Her hips swayed, her firm ass flexed as she walked, sensuously, slowly, away.
She was right. My entire body stung with the numerous lashings it had
received from her whip. My cock was an aching mess, as those horrible teeth
dug into it.
She turned to face me, smiling, and laughed.
"Look away from me, and maybe your boner will subside."
But I could not.
"Your Highness. Please. I beg you. End this torture."
Her eyes softened a little, but her smile faded.
"Are you willing to run the gauntlet to touch my perfect body warrior ?"

It meant possible death. But I had done it once before, and I could do it
again. Thirty yards between heaven and I. She could wield that whip with
amazing accuracy and deadly precision. From birth, she'd been trained
thoroughly in its use.
And I knew its magic sapped a man's mental as well as physical resolve.
While she waited for my reply, she toyed happily with it, casually flipping
it this way and that, smashing it against the floor either side of her with
superb skill.
I nodded. "Yes Your Highness."
She sighed. "I'm ready for you this time, Azwyn. You shall not win this
contest."
I ignored her remark, and took a step toward her.
I still do not know where that first blow came from. I never even saw her
raise the whip. Just a blur and then incredible pain as the thing bit into
my exposed groin. I fell to the floor, howling in agony.
I heard her laughter.
I rose, and somehow managed to duck the next two blows, with a dexterity I
didn't even know I possessed, as one does when they are in grave danger.
For a brief moment I caught her steely gaze. I could see she wanted to kill
me now for sure. There was no mercy in her eyes.
I took two more, one in the side of the head and across my left arm, and
one in the chest and face. I saw stars, stumbled, but managed to cover more
ground. Everything was in agonising slow motion.
She was close enough to smell now. I could sense her arousal at the
prospect of both killing and of fucking me. There was no laughter now, just
a merciless sneer.
"You fucking worm," she hissed, as she flung the whip around my waist,
coiling me tightly for a second, and then she pulled firmly on it to send
me crashing to the floor in front of her, a couple of steps away. As I got
to my feet, she took a step froward to stand right over me, hands on hips.
I gazed up at her, a vision of feminine power and beauty. The unattainable
lady.
"You lose Azwyn."
She placed the heel of her boot firmly on my mouth and pushed it in. I was
crying like a baby.
"Suck it you worthless piece of shit."
And I sucked.
"It'll take better men than you to win my affections."
The taste of my blood mixed with the leather. And as I ruminated on my
failure to win the woman of my dreams, I felt a warm trickle on my head and
my back.
Her Highness was laughing as she pissed on me.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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