BEATRICE LEARNS

Beatrice, the princess royal, a young beauty of almost 
sixteen years, appeared in her mother's breakfast room 
dressed for tennis. She kissed her mother, well aware 
of the woman's freshly-fucked appearance, and stepped 
back, having practiced what she planned to say. 

"May I use one of your guards now and then, please, 
Mother?"

The queen blinked at her, thought about the boy who 
had driven his huge phallus into her less than fifteen 
minutes before, and said, "Of course, my dear. But be 
careful. They can be habit forming."

The girl nodded. "My maids are doing their best and I 
have been using the wonderful toys you gave me and 
reading those stories. But, well... I think I need a 
bit more. I need a real cock."

"Say penis, dear, or member. Don't be common."

The girl nodded. "Sorry."

"Just call the captain when you are ready; tell him 
where and when and he will send the next one on his 
schedule. Never choose one by name, understand? They 
are, theoretically all the same, interchangeable."

The girl nodded and licked her lips. She had been 
allowed to observe the last swearing in of new members 
of the Queens' Own Lancers, as the palace guard was 
properly known. The novices had appeared before her 
mother naked, gleaming with oil, their phalluses fully 
engorged but not aroused, looking like foot-long 
clubs, hanging limply between muscular thighs, arched 
out over bulging ballsacks.

Her mother had anointed both men's members, and they 
had knelt and sworn their fealty as their huge male 
spears rose and then, right there on the steps, they 
had mounted and horsed two of her handmaidens, stood 
and backed away with the writhing girls impaled on 
their rearing horns, bucking and squealing. It had 
made the girl very wet between her legs and given her 
several nightmares.

An hour later when Beatrice returned from her tennis 
lesson, she gathered her courage and called the guard 
captain, told him who she was and asked for a man to 
come her guest bedroom in a half-hour.

"It will be done," the voice on the phone said.

Beatrice pinned up her long, blonde hair and showered, 
leaning against the tiled wall and massaging her vulva 
carefully when she was done. She toweled herself dry, 
thinking of her deflowering by her late father almost 
three years previously, on her twelfth birthday.

It had been exciting but not altogether pleasant, and 
the blood had frightened her.

Now she donned a light robe and white slippers, picked 
up one of the gold reward tokens she had been told to 
give to the lancer if he pleased her and walked to the 
guest bedroom at the end of the hall, eager for male 
comfort.

The man who appeared, knocked, entered, clicked his 
heels and bowed, was tall and rather rugged looking. 
They all were tall and she knew, she had even seen, 
they all were famously endowed. She had been told that 
twenty centimeters was the minimum, had looked at her 
ruler and tried to imagine a thick pole eight inches 
long being driven into her guts.

"Your name?" she asked the man, trying not to stare at 
his bulging codpiece.

"James, Miss," he said. "Your pleasure?"

"Yes, James, sexual congress; come and make love to 
me." She was proud that her voice was steady and she 
crossed her legs and watched him disrobe quickly, 
tossing his uniform on the room's only chair. He sat 
to pull off his boots and then turned his back toward 
her to ease down his britches and multi-strapped 
underwear, designed to help him keep his erect penis 
upright when he was on duty at her mother's door.

When he turned to face her, she almost screamed, but 
put her hand to her lips and stood. His tool was fully 
engorged, standing upright on his muscular body, 
looking as thick as her wrist and as long as her 
forearm, rising nearly as high as his deep navel.

James smiled. She was lithe and lovely, unlike most of 
the females he had to serve including her rapacious 
mother. Conjugal sessions with the queen took a full 
day for recovery and then most men were sore for a 
week afterwards.

James untied the bow at the girl's throat as she 
smiled up at him, as he spread her very light gown and 
watched it slither down her lean, pink body. He felt 
his ram quiver and pump up lubricant, pre-ejaculant, 
as her pink nipples pointed up at him. He bent and 
kissed one lightly.

"Since I have been told that you have not used Lancers 
previously, may I suggest the seventh position, Miss. 
It will keep my weight off your body. I go about a 
hundred kilos you know."

She nodded. "I have not been told or shown the 
positions."

He gently pushed her toward the narrow bed. "I will 
send you a chart, a booklet."

"Thank you," she said, raising her chin as he hugged 
her to him. Their lips met gently, fully and for some 
time with his massive cock rubbing her belly and then 
the guard lifted her up on the bed as if she weighed 
nothing and positioned himself behind her, his immense 
ram now throbbing and rigid. It slipped between her 
thighs and she shivered with anticipation, hoping it 
would not hurt.

He held her gently, caressing a breast with his lower 
hand while his other stroked at her pudenda, finding 
it nearly hairless.

He had brought lubricant with him but his probing 
phallus found the girl wet and slippery so he screwed 
his spear-pointed glans into her tiny vaginal opening 
and whispered in her ear. "I'm going to go halfway in 
for now."

She nodded and he thrust.

The girl gasped as her lower body was torn in half. 
She shuddered and sobbed as he held the monstrous ram 
deep in her guts. It was alive, pulsing and quivering 
and then it flexed and she squealed.

"Ready?" he asked, as he began to pull back gently and 
the hard ridge on the head of his impressive woman-
pleaser dragged her flesh back with it. Her inner lips 
actually emerged before he drove them gently back into 
her.
"That hurt?" he asked as he played with her nipple and 
his fingers sought her hidden love button.

She shook her head, refusing to give in to the searing 
pain, trying to ignore the huge thing burrowing into 
her as he nuzzled, sucked and kissed her neck.

James had enjoyed dozens of women in his nineteen 
years but never one so tight and sinuous, one that 
massaged his whole length as it slowly yielded to his 
pressure.
After a number of very slow and gentle penetrations, 
he asked "Ready for action?"

She nodded and bit her lip, and he began fucking her 
steadily, still holding himself back, his huge scrotum 
swinging freely as her jammed only half his mighty 
prod in and out of the girl and gently squeezed her 
clit between his fingers as he twisted her ripe 
nipple.

Beatrice screamed six or seven times as she climaxed, 
and the guard held his pike extended in her as she 
spasmed and her channel was thoroughly greased with 
her juices.

She went soft in his grip and he got his breath and 
relaxed as she gathered herself.

"Enough?" he asked.

She shook her head.

He changed their position, so that she lay on her 
chest and face, her knees planted and buttocks raised. 
He got her where he wanted her without ever being 
fully disengaged from the tight, young pussy and then 
rose and bent his legs and he shoved his thick member 
back into her.

She shuddered and sobbed as she felt him rub new areas 
within her including a very hot one on the front wall 
of her quivering passage.

James counted in his head and did her in groups of 
five, holding the last thrust until she spasmed or he 
did and when he reached a hundred he eased her down 
flat, still buried in her. He was not sure whether or 
not she had climaxed again. She had twice, both minor 
shocks but both very pleasant.

"Enough, Princess?" he asked softly.

She swallowed, gasped and said, "Yes, wonderful, but 
let me feel a few full-length rams."

"As you wish, Miss, let's say twenty."

She nodded and he gave her a score of thrusts in less 
than thirty seconds that had her gasping and beating 
on the mattress.

Then he withdrew, slowly and sat the side of the bed, 
getting his breath.

The girl shook, recovered, rolled around and sat 
beside him. Both of them gasping and the princess put 
her delicate hand on his huge male member.

"You didn't come, climax, did you?" she asked quietly 
as she stroked.

He shook his head. "No need. We are trained, trained 
not to."

She held back her golden hair and bent to his groin, 
holding his big cock up and taking its huge head into 
her mouth. Beatrice had never done that before, but 
she had seen her maids do it and had read about it 
many times.

James closed his eyes and relaxed, smiling He had, of 
course, emptied his balls that morning as all the 
Lancers did, but had not enjoyed a girl's mouth for 
some time. He knew he should tell her it was not 
proper, but he simply smiled and enjoyed, relaxing and 
feeling his semen flowing, his testicles pulsing.