1

I was late, of course. By the time I arrived at the court, I was greeted by an eerie silence, walking through rooms and rooms of people sitting, slouching, laying, all of them sleeping as if frozen in time. I slowly paced the long hallways, quiet rooms and courtyards, stripping off more and more layers of my gown until I was completely naked, enjoying the freedom, the feeling of a cool, light breeze on my breasts, safe in the knowledge that nobody could see me now as I set out to enact my revenge.

It started many years ago. The king and queen had tried long and hard to conceive, and despite all their efforts, the queen remained without child. Fearing the ever-growing unrest of her husband and being cast out on suspicion that she might be barren, she grew more and more desperate. And so, late one autumn night, I heard her faint tapping on my door.

My cottage lay outside of town, well within the forest that surrounded the kingdom and served as a border to the neighbouring lands. To the townsfolk I was a healer, one that knew her way with herbs and cures, but in reality, I’m far more than that, for I hail from the unseelie court, and my powers are of night and magic. However, in the queen’s case, neither night nor magic was required to find out why she would not conceive. The king, for all his pompous posturing and parades of power, was a wimp when it came to women and bedding them, and the only ones that could get him hard enough to shoot his load were his manservants.

My advice to her was simple. Either she would need to find someone else to get her pregnant or, if she did not want to risk that kind of infidelity, would need to find a way to get his sperm while he’s bedding other men. She left, without so much as a thank-you, but I could tell her mind was racing, thinking of a way to solve her desperate situation. My curiosity piqued, I followed and watched her in the next days, disguised in the ways the fairies use to be invisible to human eyes. Finally, she seemed to have formed a plan. One day, when the king retired to his private quarters, she went into the armoury and told the captain of the guard to put armour on her and let her go in the place of her husband’s private guard. Hesitantly, the captain obliged.

Now, the queen was voluptuous, and so a lot of effort was required to squeeze her ample bust and round butt into a man’s armour, but eventually she stood, breathing heavily and sweating in the plates and tight straps, in front of her husband’s door. Slowly she stepped in.

The king was already half-undressed, only wearing his crown and royal gown, sitting on a chair by the window. As she stepped in, he got up. “Ah,” he said. “My faithful friend, have you come to please me, once again?”

The queen paused for a moment, then said, her voice hoarse and as deep as she could from underneath her helmet: “My fellow guard was struck ill, so I will stand in his stead today.”

The king stared at her for a moment, then nodded. “Very well then. Do you know what you are here to do?” he asked.

She hesitated. “I am here to please my lord in any way he wishes,” she said finally, trying to bow as much as the armour would let her.

The king nodded. “Then come and relieve me of the load in my loins,” he said and sat down on the bed, opening his gown and stroking his small, half-erect penis.

The armoured queen moved closer and knelt down, opening the visor only when her head was close to his crotch, and instantly starting to suck on him, as well as the helmet would allow her. The king moaned and breathed heavier, but none of the two were very good at what they’re doing, and just didn’t get anywhere. I almost would’ve gone in there to help them, would it not have compromised myself, and so I kept watching from a safe distance outside their window as the king finally sat up and said: “Today, I require more of you. Let me take you from behind.”

The queen froze, but resigned, removing the straps that held her bottom guard in place, but lowering it only so far as to reveal her white, round, naked buttocks. This seemed enough for the king, who just got behind her and pushed himself into her soft, moist anus. I don’t know if he even got deep enough to penetrate her, but it didn’t seem to matter to him, because only moments later, he grunted and rolled back onto the bed.

The queen quickly snuck out of his room and went outside, taking off parts of the armour to help her move faster as she left the castle, and town hastening through the forest, her butt still exposed. When she reached my hut, I was already expecting her. “Quick,” she said. “I’ve done what you asked and collected his seed.”

I nodded, feigning ignorance. “So where is it then?” I asked.

She blushed, but turned around, pushing her ample buttocks out towards me. “It is in my behind,” she said meekly. I licked my lips, having waited for that moment, then guided her to my table where I bent her forwards as I knelt behind her.

She was quite my type, a well-rounded, feminine woman with a butt that just asked to be fucked. I opened a few other straps, until her leather garments around her waist came all loose and fell to the floor, giving me easy access to the whole area between her legs. Then I began to lick her, starting at her dark, curly pubic hair, tasting the sweat and juices emanating from her sweet snatch. I worked my way further up until I reached her rosy anus, all sticky and smelling strongly of cum. As my tongue lapped across it, I could already taste the sperm. I began collecting it carefully in my mouth and was spitting it into a small spoon.

My tongue then began to penetrate her, wetting her anus as I parted her cheeks with both hands. More sticky cum came oozing out and I licked it up, sucked everything I could get to out of her asshole until the spoon was full. During all this, she remained calm and composed, only thinking about finally getting pregnant. But when I began parting her labia and penetrating her with my fingers, she finally lost her composure and started moaning.

I worked her slowly, pushing my fingers further and further inside her, while steadily licking her clit, sucking it into my mouth, pulling at it with my teeth and making sure she got as wet as I could get her. More and more fingers entered her, stretching her wide. “Uhhhh,” she moaned. “H-h-h-how will you get me pregnant, now?”

I smiled, grabbing for the spoon. “We’ll do it like you were a mare,” I said, placing it at the entrance of her pussy. She didn’t know what I meant by that, but the cold silver startled her. Slowly I pushed the spoon in, holding it tight in my fingers. As the head of the spoon had disappeared, I pushed further, my hand squeezing deeper and deeper into her sopping cunt, stretching and filling her deep and wide.

She groaned, grunted, then screamed as my knuckles passed her flabby labia and my whole hand shoved firmly up her unfucked cunt. She arched back, pushing against me, her heavy tits swinging down onto the table top as I began fucking her with my hand, going deeper and deeper, past my wrist, until the spoon hit her cervix. There, I turned it, scooping the cum off with my thumb, imbuing it with some magic and making sure it got distributed well all around her cunt as I pulled back out.

She gasped, exhausted, thin streams of cunt juice running down her legs as she remained bent over my table for a while, regaining her strength. I licked my fingers clean, but left the spoon for her, so she could get whatever was left of the cum and her twat slime on it. She savoured the taste, and finally got back up and dressed as good as she could, before thanking me and bidding me farewell with a kiss.

2

Of course, helping the queen wasn’t entirely selfless. I had wanted a human child for myself for a while now, and was determined to get her kid once the time was right. The queen must’ve sensed something about that, and so when she had a daughter nine months later, I did not even get a notice about it, and instead she called on the seelie court for help to guard the princess’ birth and upbringing. Not that I had needed notice, as I kept my eyes and ears on the queen every day since she left my cottage. And of course I could enter the castle, invited or not, at my leisure, so when the day came that the royal couple introduced their firstborn daughter to the court, they were in for a nice surprise.

I stood among the crowd, cloaked in shadows, as the faeries of the seelie each bestowed a gift upon the child, granting it useless things like beauty, and grace, and good manners. And as I saw the child - my child - getting turned into something boring, meek, obedient and subservient, I finally stepped forward. “Well,” I said, as I made the crowd fall silent with the flick of a wrist. “It is so good to see my king and queen finally conceiving, after all that fruitless time.” I smirked and looked at the queen longer than she could bear. The king wanted to protest, but to his surprise, my magic prevented him from speaking, or even lifting a finger. “So, since I only wish for the best of the child, I, too, will grant her a gift: She shall grow up happy and peaceful, and have the best childhood any girl would ever have. And then, on her fourteenth birthday, it will all be over quick, for she will be stuck with a prick and die. She’ll be the happiest princess that ever lived!” I finished, my voice drooping of irony as I twirled and walked out.

Once I had left, the magic was lifted. I perched in the shadows again, watching the scene unfold. The remaining seelie, who had not yet delivered gifts, could of course not let this slide, but powerless to remove the curse of another faerie, they at least were trying to remedy it. “Your daughter shall not die,” one said, “but her death may be dispersed as a deep sleep that would befall all the kingdom until the cause of the curse is lifted.”

I tried hard not to laugh. Really, that was the best they could do? An eternal sleep until some ragtag stranger comes along to somehow figure out why everyone’s asleep and lift the curse? Very well, I had other plans anyway. “And technically,” the last faerie, who also worked as a lawyer for the king, said, “she’s a kid until she turns 18, so nothing shall happen before her 18th birthday.” I shrugged. I didn’t care about her age so much as long as I got to keep her.

3

As the girl grew up, people started calling her “Beauty”. Not so much because she was an outstandingly beautiful girl, but mainly because her parents had named her Hultrond, and nobody really liked that name, so it was lost to history. Don’t get me wrong, she looked alright and was pretty for the standards at the time - which basically meant her teeth weren’t too rotten and she had no bad skin diseases. Other than that, she was chubby, like her mother, with a cute, round face that loved to smile and laugh, the curly, blonde hair and light brown eyes of her father. The gifts of the faeries worked well on her, and she moved about with a natural grace and was always polite, well behaved and a delight to everyone around. In short, she had the happiest childhood, just as I had promised her.

As she got closer to her 18th birthday, her parents became increasingly nervous and began preparing. The king ordered all needles, and to be safe, all other sharp and pointy objects, like knifes and swords, to be removed from the castle and hidden in a secret location until her birthday was over. Also, the princess spent more and more time in her room, hidden away from everyone else, and guarded by the king’s most loyal guards and her parents themselves.

The night before her birthday they locked the door to her room, which lay up in a high tower of the castle, and hid the key, forbidding anyone to try to approach her. Food was pulled up to her through a rope from her window and for the next days she was to be alone and by herself there.

Now, the kingdom held all manner of strange beings, and many of them weren’t even my doing, but it happened that during that time, a particular wolf had come to the area. He was fleeing hunters from another realm, where he allegedly ate someone’s grandmother and was preying on travellers in the forest. The thing about him was that he was no ordinary wolf, but a man, changing into wolf shape during the nights of a full moon. That way, he managed to remain hidden from the townsfolk and his pursuers, living a secret existence that nobody knew about. Nobody except me.

I won’t say how much of all this was due to my influence, but the moon was full and red on the night before the princess’ birthday, and the man awoke at night with an unnatural craving. Soon, he was running through the shadows, a large, black, furry shade himself, hunting, searching, looking for prey. I followed him, making sure to guide him where I wanted him to go.