There was once a king who had 12 beautiful daughters; it was said that each was more beautiful than the previous, but of course that was what people said in fairy stories. What was true was that they were all very beautiful, and that the king had no sons. The first of these daughters to marry would become queen in time, with her husband the king (for that was the law in this antiquated time and place). The king had little to complain about, this was how he had become king, he had married King Oswald's daughter and when Prince Olaf The Ugly was killed in The War of the Lost Bracelet (a petty affair that arose from a Duke accusing the king's cousin of theft), Prince Michael (by marriage) became heir to the throne.
Now these princesses were each lovely in their own way, and the marriageable ones showed no inclination to find husbands. This is the list of them:
Princess Prima was tall and slim like her regal mother, elegant and haughty-looking with raven black hair, she could reduce the bravest knight to cower before her with her proud looks. Though in truth her sister Princess Secunda was even more proud, yet the waves of blonde locks she had inherited from her grandmother somehow softened her appearance so that the same knights melted instead of cowering. It seemed unfair that she should be judged more kindly simply by having blonde hair, yet such is the shallowness of man.
Princess Trieste did not suit her name, she was always smiling. Like her father she maintained a jolly mien; and if not quite as tall as her willowy elder sisters, yet she retained a sexy elegance even when she was running to catch a puppy or a ball (for she had not inherited the proud stillness of her sisters either) that made many a commoner entertain distinctly un-subject-like thoughts about their princess. Princess Tetra was more bookish than her fellows, still taller than average and still slender like an alder yet she was always to be found with a book; not that she was above enjoying herself, as you shall hear.
The later princesses began to show more of the influence of their father on their shape. Princess Quinta, though still tall and slender, had more of a bust as she grew to womanhood. At first she found it embarrassing when she saw the heads of young men inclined slightly, looking at her bust line rather than her face. She later learned to ignore them for the ignorant fools they were. Her next youngest sister – Princess Sexta – insisted on changing her name to the Greek form once she reached puberty. Even her sisters poked fun at her name, so the king graciously acceded to her 'request' (though she had the stubborn steel in her eye that he had given her, so she would never have given up requesting) and she became Princess Hexta.
Princess Septa was the acknowledged perfect shape. Not as tall as her sisters, she retained the slimness but combined it with wider hips and larger bust, giving her an hourglass figure topped with a mane of blonde hair. Her smile completed the dream of every man in the kingdom. Only Princess Octante could have competed, she had all the same looks except the smile. For she carried a burden that was hers alone; three days after her birth the queen had haemorrhaged and died and Princess Octante blamed herself. Now, as she reached her sixteenth birthday her beautiful mouth carried the slight melancholy that she could never quite shake off. She had a penchant for sad poetry, both reading and writing it; indeed she had some talent in that regard.
The king was left with 8 daughters then, and a lady-in-waiting, who had been present from the birth of Prima, was happy to take on the task of mothering them. She was of noble family and it was not long before the king – as red blooded in physique as he was blue blooded by marriage – took her for lover and then wife. The result was three more girls, Nona, Decima and Undecima. This latter hated her name and insisted, from the moment she could recognise her name, on ignoring it. She would not respond to any call to 'Undecima', preferring her middle name, that of her mother 'Andrea'. The king was at first irritated, then angry, then fell in love with this small firebrand who, he recognised, had inherited his determined character. She duly broke the spell of the number-names and became Princess Andrea – something several of the others envied.
So that is all the two queens' children, but those of you who can count will have noticed we have only 11 children. The twelfth arrived like this. When the first queen was heavily pregnant with her seventh child, and having difficulties in that pregnancy – something that might have warned her doctors (if they had been much more than quacks and charlatans) that it was time to stop – the king found himself attracted to a young maid who was attending her. She was comely and sprightly and not in the least aware of her desirability as she sought to attend to the queen's requirements. In time the maid was sleeping in the room with the queen and it was a short step for her to sleep in the other room with the king. The queen was aware and not entirely upset, she knew her husband had an itch that had to be scratched regularly, hence the large number of children. At least this maid was not some member of the nobility and a possible long term rival lover.
The liaisons happened no more than five times, the king was not a naturally faithless individual, but the unmaidenly maid became pregnant and was sent away to have her child. When she recovered the queen, realising that the maid who had served her so well had been sent away, rapidly discovered the truth and had the maid and child returned. She insisted on bringing the little baby girl into the household and brought her up as her own until her untimely death. In this way Maria joined the growing female children in the court. No one ever knew if she was a princess, and no one had the courage to ask the king, so she was never referred to as such but by careful use of language they were able to ignore this question and treat her as another of the princesses in all things.
And so this completes the 12. They all slept from earliest times in the 'nursery'. This room grew and expanded as more were added to it, but the girls always insisted on all sleeping in the same room; even when the elder ones were offered the chance of their own room as befitted their status they preferred to remain with their siblings and half-siblings. And often the information they could impart to the younger ones as they grew to womanhood was much more detailed, informative and graphic than anything the careful court advisors could offer in the way of education.
All the girls knew from an early age what their growing genitals were for, and all found it a delight to be inaugurated into the pleasures of self-enjoyment. Some evenings the gentle rustlings under the bedclothes could rise to a veritable storm of sound, like the wind rushing through the leaves outside. But none were overly addicted to this pleasure, they simply found it a welcome way of slipping to sleep after a long banquet or an enjoyable day at the hunt. They grew to normal, healthy girls and women.
When this story begins, the eldest was about 26, becoming in truth rather old for a marriage settlement, yet still very marriageable and attractive. The youngest, little Andrea, was 10. Too young to have reached puberty but observation of others had led her to explore the regions between her legs and if she had not reached orgasm, she did at least find this stroking of her cunny (as the girlish voice in her head would call it) very pleasant.
Now the king loved his daughters and wished them nothing but good, and the queen loved them all, almost equally. Perhaps she loved her own flesh and blood a little more, but only a little. She was no wicked step-mother, she was a loving, kind, woman doing her best for this menagerie. Though the king was not old, he found his desire for the pleasures of the night had waned and he was happy to lie in his wife's welcoming arms in bed or indeed in daylight – to the embarrassment of his children who thought affection should stop at 50 at the latest. And if occasionally he found himself inside his younger wife's body, he just as often found pleasure in stroking her to orgasm or having her do this for him. Life then was calm and contented. Except for one thing.
No one could remember when the girls had first found the secret passageway, certainly long before our story. They had on occasions gone out for midnight walks or playing tricks on guards, but nothing much until this period when the gypsies arrived. The gypsy camp in the valley was full of colour and life and delight and when they all visited in the daytime it was a source of wonder. Old women would read their palms, young men would be most forward and invite even the princesses to dance. They were not allowed to of course, but looked on in amazement as the gypsies danced with the gypsy women and then with the lower orders of the city, flinging them with abandon and laughing and shouting. Nothing like this occurred in the formal court dances. The girls decided to visit after dark, creeping down the passageway to the small door behind the bushes. The older girls thought it best to wait until the younger were asleep, so the youngest three only knew the girls were going out when they awoke in the night to find the beds empty. Maria and Octante also chose not to go. Maria for she wasn't sure if she was invited, and was too shy and unsure of herself to ask. Octante had always tried to be good to honour her mother's name and felt there was something not quite right about this escapade. She decided to stay to be with the younger ones.
.... There is more of this story ...