Thump Thump Thump
Cordelia, Princess of (Wherever - had the place ever had a name, she wondered, as the dream took form once more around her ?), stamped her foot in frustration. Voicing her dissatisfaction would, she knew, be fruitless. Her father (who might well exist, in this world at least, only in her imagination) was, when taking decisions, as adamant as . well, as adamant.
(She'd seen the stuff once (in her dream-world) - a travelling alchemist had possessed a block, and they had tried out eight toddlers and pre-adolescents on it. When it had survived unscathed, it had been agreed that adamant was among the toughest things in existence.)
Anyway, somehow he had gotten wind of the way things had been going between her, and Diamara and Merithraea. The elfin mage-girl had been banned the castle, and her personal guards-maid had been ordered to be tutored along with the Princess.
And such a tutor had the King engaged. He was from a far-off realm, and had no manners to speak of. He clearly had a high opinion of himself and expected Cordelia to agree. And he expected to have dominion over her - at least, in the things to do with her education. He was, in short, a total pedagogue (a word with which Cordelia had been obliged to become painfully familiar after a perfectly natural mistake when, in the heat of a particular discussion, she'd called him a 'pederast'). And, all in all, given his 'better-than-thou' attitude, his insistence on recounting to her father, in excruciating detail, all of her errors, and his long-windedness, even over the most primitive of concepts, she felt he fully deserved his nickname of "Weaselly Windbag" Pryce.
And he was boring - time and again Princess Cordelia found her attention wandering. Which would have been one thing, but for the fact that it seemed only to be able to wander in one direction: into thoughts of sex.
Not, of course, with the Weaselly Windbag. That would have been a revolting concept, even had she not had the on-going experiences of how wonderful sex could be with Diamara and Merithraea. Memories of their fingers and tongues, of their textures and tastes, lingered in her mind and teased and tempted her along forbidden by-ways.
But there seemed nothing that she could so to escape the tedium: her father had her escorted everywhere, by guardsmen he trusted, and Merithraea was also being watched. But, little by little, by subtly asking questions which hedged round the subject, but never addressed it directly, they found out that Master Pryce was both aware of the "crimes" they were supposed to have committed, and also intensely sensitive to the subject, to the point of stammering and blushing.
With this in mind, and seeing little else to do to emphasise their determination not to be stifled, the two of them began a concerted and covert campaign to disconcert their tutor, employing double entendres in language whilst preserving the primmest of faces. Then they moved on to dressing provocatively - nothing to which he could directly object, or where he did, as to a dress he said had a neckline of unseemly daring, wearing another which extended to Princess Cordelia's neck, but under which she wore nothing (not that the Windbag dared investigate). Then they took that tactic further, by wearing outwardly innocent attire but little or nothing beneath, proving to themselves, and to Pryce, that he dared not interfere. Two or three times they switched textbooks on him, so that, while they were studying philosophy or statecraft, his book would be a wild romance, borrowed from the chambermaids and deftly rebound in a dry-as-dust cover.
But, while they could embarrass him, they did not seem to be able to overcome him. Then, one day, whilst Cordelia was trying to mediate between devising a more elaborate plan, getting through the work Pryce had set for them, and suppressing a burning wish to hurl herself on Merithraea and, heedless of any consequences, slake the lusts which so long an abstinence had stored up in her, Merithraea managed to slip her a tiny scrap of parchment.
'Tomorrow,' it promised: 'D has arranged'.
The only 'D' of whom Cordelia could think (well, in a sense of relevance to her dream-world - the boy Doyle was hardly likely to turn up, now was he ?) was Diamara, and given that she had been banished far beyond the court, she could see no way in which the elf-maid could arrange anything.
The next day dawned bright, clear and hot. The sun seemed to have half again its normal strength. But clearly it was the fault of neither the Princess nor her co-accused. And, given that by mid-morning, the Weaselly Windbag was suffering enough to remove his top-coat, it was only fair that he consent to his young charges have license (with decorum) to loosen their garb. Which led to Merithraea doffing her uniform jacket, to leave her trim white blouse under which, as was apparent after a few minutes' watching her, she wore nothing. The Windbag stood it for about a quarter-hour, before the brush of her nipples against the fabric drove him to his inner room, where he kept water. Whilst he was away, Princess Cordy took the opportunity further to loosen the neck of her gown, and also to hitch up its skirts (leaving, of course, the decorous underskirt, from which her ankle and occasionally calf peeped temptatiously).
Which in turn was worth an "Oh, my goodness," from the Weasel when he returned, and a further brief retreat for another drink. By noon the heat was almost unbearable and over lunch, on account of the extreme temperature, Cordelia was given leave to change to a less elaborate gown. One which, by 'chance' (in other words, careful selection, in the hope of attracting the favours of whatever carnal fates there might be in play on such a day) had no room for underskirts, and which laced (or, rather, the way she was wearing it, didn't lace) down the front rather than the back.
If Court Tutor Pryce's expression hadn't already been severely reddened by the sun, Princess Cordelia felt sure he would have boiled over at the sight of the two of them (Merithraea had unbuttoned her blouse now, to a point at which the upper parts of her full breasts were clearly visible, as they danced to her every movement. And it wasn't only Pryce that was feeling the erotic tension: the Princess felt her nipples tingling and her body adjusting itself to the subtle sensuality her guardswoman was exhibiting.
Pryce fled for his back room, and Cordelia loosened her lacing even more.
"Watch out !" Merithraea hissed, as one of Cordy's breasts threatened to burst loose. She hastened to help the princess tuck it back in, and brushed against the distended nipple. The electric shock that ran through Cordy made her reckless and she pressed Merithraea to her, sealing the lips together in a steamy kiss.
"We can't . !"
Tongues came into play, at first hesitantly, and then with full force. Their bodies wrestled together. Somewhere in it all, Meri's hands began to slip up the skirts of Cordy's gown, and Cordy's fingers unfastened the waist band of Meri's uniform trousers, sending them floorwards.
"What in the name of -- !"
Pryce had returned.
"This is perversion - this is - "
"No, it is not !" Cordelia replied, facing her tutor (and presenting him with a magnificent sight of her bare breasts nestled within the crimson fabric of her gown, its front unlaced now almost to the waist. "It is love - though you'd not know that if it bit you !!" Her emotions blazed, almost visibly.
"When I tell your father -- !"
"You will tell him nothing," Merithraea replied firmly. "Not unless you want me to tell him how you watch his daughter betimes, as she goes to and fro."
Pryce opened his mouth and, quick as a flash, Merithraea pulled off her loincloth .
Which was where Cordelia Chase's dream almost left the rails as, with luciferine ease, her mind translated 'loincloth' into pearl-effect thong panty that was currently on special at Fortune-Gamble's, if only it didn't cost (together with the rest of the ensemble) half our pay cheque, and for whom was I going to wear it anyway, with my only regular male contacts being Angel (grrr - nasty - potential of turning evil) and Wesley (starchy, been-there-done-that in Sunnydale) ? Oh, and Gunn, (out for whose life we are so looking, but who I'd never categorise as a potential lust-bunny).
Merithraea (then) pulled off her pearl-effect thong panty, balled it, and thrust it into Weaselly Windbag's mouth.
"I can still - " the tutor said, indistinctly, round the fabric. Meri looked at Cordy and held out a hand. Acting under goodness knew what influence, Cordy shimmied out of her dress and tugged off the soaked scrap of fabric (Was that the tiger-pattern one that came with the mini-camisole and the quarter-cup bra ?) which was all else she wore.
Her own underwear went into her tutor's jaws and he subsided. Especially when Meri used his own coat as a makeshift rope to pinion his arms behind him.
Then, utterly naked, the girls embraced again. Their lips met, and then their breasts, bouncing and slithering against each other, with the finest beads of perspiration which bedewed them. They kissed and caressed, while Pryce mumbled and moaned behind his impromptu gag. "We should take this into his room - more discreet - less chance of anyone else interrupting," Merithraea said. They propelled Pryce before them, into his own inner chamber, and propped a chair against the door. There was a bed in there - at first Cordelia had been going to put Pryce there, as the easiest and most obvious site for the apoplectic tutor, but Meri found a second chair and propped him, arms still bound, mouth still plugged, in it.
Then they took to the bed themselves, in front of Pryce's eyes.
"Think of it," Merithraea told him, as they did so: "If you say anything, what will the King think, when the princess can describe every detail of your room, into which I will say you kept trying to entice her."
By now they wanted to do more than merely kiss, and they interlaced their legs, till their bellies were touching, and then leaned up into each other, to kiss and caress some more. And, under the influence of the loving, and the lust that had been bottled up in both of them, their bodies adjusted and other parts also began to press together, soft tissues swelling and silken hair softly brushing against its like. Their caresses became as hot as the sun, and, knowing no-one could hear them in this inner sanctum, they offered each other moans and cries of encouragement. Then, as the erotic tension rose, Cordelia felt the first flutterings that told her Meri was approaching her climax. That knowledge, however, only served further to excite her, and she too began to tremor. Their juices flowed and mingled, adding to the lubricious pleasure, and their love for each other drove them higher and higher in passion until finally, volcanically, both girls came as one.
Weaselly Windbag Pryce almost had a fit - his heart was pumping as though it would burst through his chest.
"Oh, look," Merithraea said: "Leakage."
"Then we ought to clean up after ourselves," Princess Cordelia replied, primly, and then two girls carefully parted.
And then he had to watch as his two young charges energetically turned to mutual lappings at each other's body, to clean up every last drop of surplus moistures. And that, inevitably, took some time, not least because one thing led to several others .
It was evening, and the sun's heat was finally fading when the court tutor, having written to the king to say that there was no more he could do for his daughter, that she had exhausted his resources, slipped out of the postern gate.
Somehow, though, the key to his rooms never got back to the castellan, but remained in the custody of a helpful sergeant of the castle guard.