"I've always meant to ask where you got your door-knocker from,"
Gwendolyn (the maid) inquired, looking up at me as she skillfully
set to work.

Knockers, I found myself repeating mentally, as my gaze lingered
over the pale translucent softness revealed by her low-cut
neckline as she knelt on the floor, the scrubbing motion
generating a comfortable jiggle. Reluctantly, I tore my eyes away
from her pleasantly curved bosom. I couldn't be certain, but it
seemed like her smile turned up just a bit at the corners in

"`Portals with personality,' A thin little volume by Montescue
Frimpledoom, Professor Emeritus of wizardry at Cambridge," I

"Mail!" shouted the doorway, as the scroll came wafting in and
landed on the table.

The Princess sat on my lap as, breaking the seal, I unrolled it.
"The expedition will convene at 7:30 A.M. sharp tomorrow
morning," I read.

Sylvia rolled her eyes, slowly and gently rotating her soft
little buttocks on my lap. "That means noon."

Shanon and Meredith, dark and light, the two ten-year-old
girls-in-waiting ceased whispering in the corner, turning to
approach solemnly where we sat. They addressed me: "We think the
Princess needs a good wand in the rear."

The Princess rolled her eyes. "You guys!"

"The rear?" I asked, a bit startled. "You want me to give her a
good paddling?"

"Not on the rear, in the rear," said Meredith, golden blonde,
eyes of autumn.

"Not the very rear," emended Shanon, chocolate skinned with long
dark curls. "It's just that, her best position for orgasm is

"Hey!" protested Sylvia again.

I stroked my beard. "Well let's see. There's the oak wand, but
it's a bit oversized. Then there are the fir wands, but I don't
want to get them all messy."

Gwendolyn came up on the other side. "Wizard, you know damn well
what they mean," she twinkled. "Only I've got one better." She
slipped a hand behind her, and pulled a drawstring, allowing her
bodice to release it's burden forward. "You could get the wand
started, between these." Thin dark hands gently reached over to
pull back the fabric, as Shanon stepped over to assist, with a
knowing smile beneath lunar orbs. Dark hands caressed the curved
outline, interrupted by the growing dark-red nipples.

"The wand seems to be started already," commented Meredith,
gently probing my lap beneath the Princess' soft, firm buns.

"Hey!" again protested Sylvia, impulsively leaping up to turn and
to face me. Her tiny, moist lips were inches from mine, and I
felt her breath brush warm on my face as she stood spread-legged
over my thighs. I gazed into her eyes, emerald-green set in
ivory. Faint wisps of her long dark hair fell gently, weaving
apart and together as she turned slightly, lips barely touching,
her breath increasing ever so subtly with a hint of passion.

I watched as it languorously emerged into her awareness that her
pretense had collapsed, and beheld a parallel motion in her
elevation, as she settled back to sitting on my lap. More like
leaning perhaps, now with vertex between her legs pressed firmly
against me, as she shifted and snuggled to establish our
connection through layers of fabric. Mentally, I was processing
the remark about orgasm, as I wasn't even aware that a
ten-year-old might be capable of one, let alone habitually, as
the remark apparently indicated. Lost in thought, I next felt her
soft, moist lips on mine, and I realized she was kissing me. I
kissed back.

Our tongues met, and the other three, girl, girl and woman,
watched as we explored the delicious novelty of shared tactile
nerve-endings mutually stimulating pleasure. Gwendolyn sighed as
Shannon's dark, thin hands continued to trace the curves and
peaks, reaching up to caress the other's mysterious velvety dark
forehead and entrancing curls. Pale Gwendolyn lowered herself
down to sitting on the carpet, legs apart, knees skyward, as
Shannon followed her down, adding a long, pink tongue to the
fingers that explored, and Gwendolyn drew up her white apron,
green dress, and petticoats, to reveal the dark red lips below.

This I only glimpsed, as I was busy outlining the thin torso of
my Royal Princess with open palms and fingers running up and down
lovingly her pale cotton blouse, yearning to embrace her deep
inside of me. Our mutual sharing, so profound, seemed yet so
commonplace, as if nothing out of the ordinary were happening. Ho
hum, another day, another ray of sunlight streaming through the
kitchen window over suds-covered half-washed dishes, another
nudge from the tip of her tongue against mine as her pelvis fell
into a slow, delicate rhythm pressing against me, steadying
herself by pressing her hands on my shoulders and sides of my

Meredith, beside us, long brushed-back hair the earthen yellow
color of leaves ready to fall, watched intently, kissing her
Highness gently on the cheek as I felt her hand exploring below.

Now glancing at the two on the floor, I saw my maid, pale
Gwendolyn, lying full flat on her back, knees jerking and
gutturally grunting in response to the bobbing of the dark curls
between her legs, Shannon sprawled elegantly, her hands wrapped
around the other's gyrating pelvis.

Oh how I loved these girls, and trembled with anticipation and
longing for the shared climaxes that I scarcely dreamed to be

"Princess," cried out Gwendolyn, "Over here!" Sylvia drew back
slightly, as she glanced over, then back at me eyes inquiring.

I nodded. "You like a girl's tongue, down there?" I asked.

Slowly, she nodded.

"Gwendolyn is quite good, I'm certain. Go."

Gradually, we separated, and Meredith, with experienced fingers,
drew up Sylvia's white dress over her head, carefully setting it
down on the carpet beside us. Never before had I beheld the
Princess' thin frame, in pale vulnerability, warm and soft before
me. Still, Sylvia straddled my thighs, but stepped back as
Meredith lowered her panties.

I inhaled sharply as white fabric fell away to reveal the smooth,
hot, soft sweetness which, moments ago, and been so closely
pressed against me. I surged forward a millimetre from the molten
magnetism. Then she lifted, turned, and pale, receding buns faced
me as the Princess went over, lowering her sensitive
penetrability to the lips of the maid.

An agile tongue leapt up like a flame from below to meet the
descending pearl, and the connection brought forth a cry, the
likes of which I had never heard before, "Oh!" repeated Sylvia
again and again in miniaturely high-pitched erotic abandon I
barely would have imagined escaping the lips of a ten-year-old
girl, as she threw her head back and gave in to the skillful

The ever attentive Meredith had located somewhere in the folds of
her dress a vial of sweet-smelling lotion, which she smeared
flower-scented between flopping breasts of the handmaiden, who
was now heavily occupied at both ends. I walked over to the
whirring organic machinery, and Meredith reached swiftly to untie
the cord holding up my pantalones. They dropped with alarming
rapidity, as she gently guided my wand between the erect buttons
to the sweetly lubricated soft valley.

"I've never done this before," she confided in a whisper, as she
reached around to press the maid's breasts together beautifully
around me. Good thing she was available, as Gwendolyn's hands
were well immersed in the activity of the Princess.

"It's perfect," I assured her, as I too fell into rhythm behind
the Princess' inspiringly round buttocks, leaning forward gently
so she could feel my cuddling and caring warmth in back of her.

Sunlight crept across the wall as we enjoyed the motion of
repetition, the smaller circles within the larger circles,
epicycles within the orbits. The clock ticked in its own rhythm
and chimed, the last grains of sand fell from the upper chamber
of the hourglass, collapsing ever so slightly the tiny mountain
built by their predecessors.

Our pleasure rose and fell, surged and subsided, increasing
gradually upward as we settled in and shifted to get comfortable.
I was sure I felt the familiar tremble of climax several times,
earthquakes below me from from maid and Princess alike, possibly
both at once. Then I found myself feeling chilly and forlorn,
apart from the soft folds that had so perfectly been embracing
me. I opened my eyes, to meet Meredith's impartial gaze across
from me. She reached out and kissed me on the lips, briefly, with
just a hint of tongue. Then bent over to kiss my wand, just a

But down to business -- she took firm grasp of the rod, and
guided it to the rear of the Princess. Like she promised, not the
very rear (brushing against it), but the seed-receptacle right to
the front of it. I was so stiff and sensitive I worried lest she
might be too rough, but she was ever so gentle, as she placed the
very point into the heart of the valley, the sensation-nexus of
the Princess' opening.

Gwendolyn had seen what was coming, and so withdrawn her fingers,
but the Princess hadn't immediately grasped that it wasn't just
the Maid's finger being reinserted. Her cries of lustful passion
grew as the realization dawned, and her pelvic motion renewed in
vigor with welcoming of my entry into her sacred chamber. Gwen's
hand, not one to be idle, took its place caressing the sack
beneath, and vicinity.

"Mare!" cried out Sylvia. "Over here!"

Meredith silently let go of me, having erected the machinery in
accordance with the grand plan, and knelt on the carpet in front
of the Princess, lifting her skirt to reveal the bare smooth
folds within. Sylvia greedily clutched her friend's thighs, and
plunged her face into the awaiting opening. Now it was Meredith's
turn to throw her head back in abandon.

So we served the Princess, Gwen below, from the front, I above,
from behind, and Meredith to her face, as we worked in tight
synchronization as a team, to tease higher and higher, draw
tighter and tighter the tension, until the bow released, and
Sylvia's cries lengthened as she lost complete control to and
ecstatic trembling dance. I felt chains of pulses squeezing up
and down me, but dutifully I held back, ever Milady's servant,
while Eros' arrows thus released buried itself so deeply in my

But she was not to be fooled. Her desperate-sounding cries of
orgasm softened into devilish giggles as she twisted and turned
her little tush. My turn, now, to cry out, as the unexpected
goading dangerously threatened the agonized hairline cracks in
the dam, treading carelessly the vein of weakness, now heavily
burdened with the swollen waters of torrential rains of built-up
anticipation and longing, until finally Meredith's straw-colored
locks flew up as I heard her cry out in release, and with that
hair-trigger the brittle barrier could withstand no more, and
overloaded with the strain, cracked and burst into a million
drops of releasing evanescent stars of feverish fluidity into the
deep realms of tiny youth below me, as I pushed and drove my
loving intensity into the shared beauty of our combined orgasms
as -- yes, unbelievably -- Sylvia came yet again.

Gradually, the machinery ground to a halt, and we collapsed in
each other's arms, drawing up a downy quilt against the
refreshing breeze that ventured in from the kitchen window.

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