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Message-ID: <30097asstr$988740604@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Deja User" <empath69@my-deja.com>
Subject: {ASSM} "Alphabet Game: Royalty" {Dancer} (MF)
Date: Tue,  1 May 2001 14:10:04 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d




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<1st attachment, "Royalty.txt" begin>

SUBJECT LINE:
{ASSM}"Alphabet Game: Royalty"{Dancer}(MF)


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Admonition: This story contains explicit descriptions of 
people engaging in careless and unprotected sexual 
activity.  PLEASE do not emulate these people since they 
are fictional characters existing in a fantasy world where 
sexually transmitted disease and unwanted pregnancy don't 
happen.  You don't live in such a world, so "let's be 
careful out there."

Oh, and minors shouldn't be reading this stuff - if you 
can't place the quote I just made in the last paragraph, 
you probably aren't old enough to be flipping through ASS*. 
Bugger off and watch 'TV Land' instead, so you can bone up 
for little age-testing quizzes like this! :)


Copyright notice: Dancer, the author of this smutty little 
opus, holds all rights of reproduction.  Private copies for 
personal perusal and archives for NON-commercial 
distribution are permitted by her.


Plea for attention: The only reward ASS* authors can expect 
is the joy of sharing their creation with the rest of 
humanity.  But wait - how does that author KNOW if people 
are reading and enjoying his story?  Yep; if you like a 
story posted to alt.sex.stories.*, the fair thing to do is 
email the author and tell them so.  I promise that it'll 
make YOU feel good to send them kudos, after all, Mark 
Twain said, "The best way to cheer yourself up is to try to 
cheer someone else up."  As always you may contact me (and 
my wife Dancer) through my 'legacy' Deja News email 
account:             <empath69@my-deja.com>  
(Wow, I'm not just an author, now I'm an AGENT, too!  ;)


Editor's Note: Here it is - part eighteen of Dancer's 
'Alphabet Game'; twenty-six hot, little vignettes she 
whipped out in something like a week or two - Lord Malinov 
eat your heart out with that semi-annual 'story-a-day' run 
I remember *way* back in the 20th century! ;) (Is he still 
around?)

And relax - these stories are all self-contained - you 
don't HAVE to read them in order, or read any of the ones 
that might squick you...

=============

The Alphabet Game (18/26)
Royalty
Copyright Dancer 2001

Dru rounded the brick building and raced down the alley. 
She had to get over the chain-linked fence or they would 
have her. She scrambled up the fence and threw a leg over 
the top when they struck. "NOOOO!" Dru screamed as she felt 
a hand circle her ankle, then drag her to the concrete. Her 
brother's men, five in all, stood above her as she lay on 
the pavement crying. "I can't marry him! He's my brother!"

SMACK! Runt Caltrone slapped her viscously across the face. 
"Shuddap, bitch," Runt growled. The other heavies hoisted 
her struggling form and carried her bodily out of the 
alley. She squirmed and yelled for help at the people 
gaping at them but no one came to her rescue. Nobody wanted 
to be on the bad side of Rick Cunningham unless they wanted 
to get a pair of cement shoes.

Dru looked up at Al Falchez. "Al, you know this is wrong! 
Help me, please!"

"I'm real sorry, Dru, but I gotta think of Darla and the 
kids," Al rumbled. She shut her eyes, understanding his 
concern for his family.

"Hey, what are guys doing?"

Runt drew his gun and fired at the stranger. "Keep your 
nose outta this." Dru kicked at her captors and jerked at 
Al's strong grip. Al stared at her, then let her go. She 
dodged between parked cars toward the stranger and dove 
through the open window of his car.

"Drive! Drive!" she screamed at the man. He put the pedal 
to the metal and burned rubber all the way down Lexington 
Boulevarde.

"Lady, what the fuck?"

"Those men were kidnapping me so my brother could get his 
slimy hands on the Royal Jewels."

"You got that backwards, right?"

"No," Dru explained. "I'm Princess Drucilla, heir to the 
throne of Kriegstan. Rick Cunningham is my father's by-
blow. When I marry, my husband gains the secret of 
unlocking the Royal Jewels."

"Sure, Princess, and I'm Prince Charming."

"If my memory of American cars is accurate, this -is- a 
white Dodge Charger."

"Touche," he murmured. "Where to?"

"The courthouse. We're late for a wedding."

Her words cut through his thoughts. "No way, lady. Uh-un. 
I'm not going to marry you."

"Then I'll just get out now." She reached for the door 
handle.

"NO!" He wrenched her hand away. "Jesus Christ! We're doing 
fifty clicks! Are you nuts?!"

"I can give you money, jewels, whatever you wish if you'll 
wed me today."

"Whatever I wish, huh?" Dru nodded. "Craziness must be 
catching. I'll do it. My wish is to not have to put the 
toilet seat down when I'm done taking a leak, savvy?"

"Savvy." He drove to the courthouse where they were wed in 
a quick civil ceremony. The newlyweds exited the public 
building and headed over to the nearest motel for their 
honeymoon. He swept Dru off her feet and carried her over 
the threshold of the bridal suite. "So, how does it feel to 
be Prince Ted, Royal Consort?"

Ted shrugged. "Eh, it's not as bad a King Ralph. I can make 
the transition." A group of eight women entered the room. 
"Who are they?"

"They're my ladies-in-waiting, here to confirm the 
consummation of the marriage." Dru touched her husband's 
arm. "It's the only time, I swear. They need to see the 
stain of my virginity on the sheets." She removed her 
clothes and lay back onto the bed, waiting. Ted shook his 
head in disbelief and undressed as well, then climbed 
between his wife's thighs. He took her quickly, withdrew 
and wiped Dru and himself clean.

"There's the stain. Now get out." The ladies twittered as, 
one-by-one, each viewed the small, pink smear, then quit 
the room. As the door closed behind the last lady, Ted 
lowered his mouth to Dru's mons and licked his tongue along 
her swollen labia.

"I was afraid you would do nothing more," Dru whispered.

"Sorry, sweetie, but I hate performing before an audience." 
He eased her lips apart and lapped circles around the 
nubbin at their apex. "This little pearl is the only jewel 
I need right now." Ted tongued her slick channel and rubbed 
the tip of his nose against her clit, feeling her spasm at 
his handiwork.

End part 18

=============

Editor's Postscript: Right - I think Dancer began running 
out of ideas for names at this point; 'Rick Cunningham' - 
now, REALLY! :)  (Oh, and if that name means nothing to you 
- you're too young to be reading this - I said SCRAM! :)

I know it seems a little rushed and 'busy', but Dancer 
tends to compress a lot of action into a small space; it's 
a far better foible than rambling on and on and on with 
unnecessary detail like someone else I could mention. :)

And one last note that you might find funny - my 
spellchecker doesn't have "Drucilla" in its dictionary; the 
closest match it could find was "Dracula"!  Hmmm, maybe 
this is an idea for a surprisingly different part two? ;)


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