But Sometimes Fate Takes A Hand
by Soren Nyrond

It was very confusing. In one reality it had all been a dream - for one thing, she wasn't sure if she'd ever had quite that climactic an orgasm in her life. But in the other, it had been real, and she had taken part in it, semi-willingly. And now, although that experience had ended, and she was back at the castle, in her own room, she still had to live with the consequences.

And one of those were her memories - and whether she was Cordelia Chase, or Princess Cordelia of - had the kingdom ever had a name ?: to be honest she couldn't remember - she had, after all, been about six when she had first conjured it up - of wherever, they will still her memories, one way and another. And amongst them, like a tapestry on the wall of the Presentment Chamber, was the image of the woodland bower where she had seen her two closest friends. Diamara, the elf-maid who had been her boon companion in her childhood dreams of adventure, but who had now blossomed into a kinky and highly eroticised version of Willow Rosenberg. And Merithraea, girl-sergeant in the castle's guards, tall, blonde, and elegant. Except that, in the bower, Diamara's tiny tunic had lain crumpled round her waist, thrust down to leave her tittles bare, and hoicked up to allow free access to anything below the waist. And Diamara herself had been crouched over where Merithraea was lying, flushed and writhing in passion, her black uniform pants cast aside, and her blouse torn open and in tatters beneath her torso.

And, remembering it, as she remembered the curious, minimally-attired double of Diamara who had mercilessly used her in that same bower, the princess wondered what was truth and what fantasy.

"You have only to ask," Diamara's voice (or Willow's) said, from behind Cordelia, and she gestured.

Before, that gesture would have brought to Princess Cordelia, in the thin air, a vision of an adventure for her to essay, with Diamara) and, in the later dreams, Merithraea as well) at her side. Now, it conjured up a picture (which Princess C somehow knew was real-time and genuine) of Merithraea in her room.

Except that Merithraea's smart blue jacket had been cast aside, and she had her blouse unfastened and her hands cradling her full breasts, caressing and squeezing them. And, as Cordelia watched, the girl-guard squeezed her thighs together and fell back onto her bed and her face went flushed and vacant (and Cordy felt an itch begin within herself - she knew what had just happened, even if there was no way in which she would have admitted it).

There was a period of stillness, and then Merithraea moved again, to shrug the blouse off and gently caress her breasts again, comfortingly. Then her hands drifted down, to where, over her hips Princess Cordelia now saw a thin silver chain or cord. When Merithraea removed her uniform pants the silvery thing proved to be a delicate girdle which supported a silken swathe of fabric which covered Merithraea's most private regions.

And Cordelia watched as Merithraea slipped the fabric from the girdle and used it to mop her thighs, and her golden fleece. Then the girl picked up another of the silken swathes from beside her bed and began to run it across her now-erect nipples, softly teasing them. Meanwhile she was delicately tucking the first swathe inside herself, fold by fold, damming the renewed flow of her juices.

The itch was now tormenting Cordy beyond bearing, and she pulled her skirt aside and sought to comfort it by a little rubbing. Her eyes were still riveted on Diamara's vision, and she was less than conscious of the elf-maid moving to stand behind her, and shedding her brief garment.

The image before the princess's vision showed Merithraea stretching herself out, languorously, and continuing to play with herself, pulling the one piece of silk faster and faster across her nipples, and gently stuffing the other deeper and deeper within herself. At a gesture from Diamara, one of the princess's hairbrushes drifted to the air to the royal hand, even as the elf-maid delicately unlaced her princess's top, flicking it apart, to let Cordelia's nipples crest in the cooler air.

And now, as Merithraea began to intensify her stimulation, to the point where Cordelia could imagine every brush of that silk on her own nipples, and as she finally tucked away the last vestige of the other silk and began, idly but deftly, to toy with the flesh left accessible again, Cordy felt her own appetites pass the bearing-point and delicately she rubbed the polished handle of the hairbrush across her own cleft.

Delicately Diamara let her hands encircle her princess and, finding no resistance (Cordelia being too far gone now to notice), she cupped the royal titties and brushed the swollen nipples, feeling them crinkle even harder. Cordy, not knowing, gave a sensual moan, and felt her blood heat further. Which was understandable since Diamara's naked breasts were pressing into her back, her own were being caressed sensually, and, in the image before her eyes, Merithraea was uninhibitedly stroking herself and petting herself towards an imminent climax.

Cordy's rubbing became more urgent, and, anticipating what Merithraea would experience in the next minutes, she closed her eyes. Diamara sensed the surrender, and, briefly, gestured. Now the image of Merithraea, poised on the edge of the final descent, paused, and stepped forward, her hands still playing indelicately with her body, to materialise within the princess's chamber.

There she eased the brush from Cordelia's hands and replaced it with her tongue, rubbing her swollen, silk-sheathed, breasts against Cordelia's upper thighs and sensually starting to suck at her quivering slit. With Diamara continuing to stimulate the princess's own full breasts, Cordelia came within seconds, and then, as she fell back onto her bed, Merithraea swung herself round and began, carefully, to tug at the last vestige of her silken loinclout, whilst caressing the flesh around it. Her lips met Diamara's and they kissed passionately, tongues entwining. Then Diamara's hand joined Merithraea's and they finished, with sensual speed, the stimulation of the guard-maiden's sweetness, just as the silken dam was breached and her stored juices dripped down onto Cordelia's upturned face, affording her a scented and refreshing draught. Then it was Diamara's turn to lay back and toy with herself, whilst Merithraea recovered her senses.

And, thus, when Cordelia looked round, it was to see one girl abandoned and flushed, while the other was opening herself to an ecstasy which the princess felt it was her duty to offer assistance with. And as she did so, with vigour unequalled, Merithraea was offering her a like service from beneath.

And so the afternoon passed.