Chapter 6

Lady Elizabeth Russell

It was a great honor to be selected as a lady-in-waiting to the new queen. Of course, everyone knew that the king wished to use the ladies-in-waiting to supplement his wife’s affections, but I would much rather be mistress to a King than married to the poltroonish squire father had in mind for me.

The wedding itself was the most lavish affair anyone could remember, and concluded with a feast and a display of fireworks. The most spectacular fireworks, however, came after the guests had departed and the royal couple had retired to the bedchamber with the Queen’s ladies-in-waiting. We helped her out of the wedding gown and her underclothes (limited to a chemise and a pair of bloomers) and laid her down naked on the bed. I had seen to it that she was clean and that the hair on her body had been removed that morning.

His Majesty removed his own clothing and stood before her, naked and rampant.

“Are you ready, my dear?”

The Queen spread her legs. “Oh, yes, Freddie.”

His Majesty got into the bed and slowly inserted himself until she cried out with the pain of losing her maidenhead.

“Does it hurt,” Frederick asked tenderly.

“A little, but oh, Freddie, it feels so good. OH! Please, keep going!”

Diana gave evident signs of her pleasure as her new husband made her a woman. He gradually increased his pace until he stiffened and groaned. I knew that he must have reached climax inside of her. Afterwards he lay still for a moment, evidently tired from his exertions.

“Oh, Freddie, please keep going!”

“I shan’t be able to for a little while, but I’m going to show you something Miss Twygg taught me.”

He reached down and began to massage her female parts with his hand. She closed her eyes and her breathing grew rapider and shallower until she reached a paroxysm of her own.

His majesty signaled for us to pull the covers over them and then draw the curtains. I returned to my own room and immediately began to massage myself in the same way I had seen the King massage his Queen. The sensation was indescribably, and I soon reached my own paroxysm. As I drifted off to sleep, I determined that I would give myself to the King as soon as I got the chance.

As it turned out, I got the chance almost as soon as we got to Brighton the next day. We were given a lecture on health by Miss Twygg, who informed us that a healthy young woman required an average of one paroxysm a week to avoid hysteria – men required at least one per day. After that, His Majesty entered the room and announced that he intended to fulfill our needs until such time as we arranged a suitable marriage. When he asked who wished to go first, I eagerly volunteered.

Freddie took me into the royal bedchamber and helped me undress. I was quite glad that I had shaved that morning, as Freddie began by massaging me, which both gave me pleasure and caused my body to begin to secrete juices.

“This will lubricate you and make it easier for me to get in,” Freddie explained.

“Oh God, get it in Freddie! Get it in!”

Freddie eased his cock into me. I felt him press up against my maidenhead and then force its way through with a single sharp pain.

“Oh!” I cried out.

Freddie stopped and held my quivering body until I told him that I was ready to continue. Each thrust brought a wave of pleasure stronger than the last, and the tension built up until I was seized by a paroxysm much stronger than the one I had given myself the previous night. It was so strong that I lost my senses, and it took me a few moments to recall where I was.

“Oh, Freddie,” I moaned, “that was delightful.”

“Yes, for me as well,” he kissed me on the cheek, “and I hope to repeat the experience many times.”