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The Palace Guard

Novel By: SoulDiver

An adult novella inspired by erotic fairytales.

Princess Elena has been raised to be the perfect bride and kept away from the public eye in chaste innocence. But when she becomes aware of one of the Palace Guards, her future and his life are in jeopardy.

I listened to Ingrid Michaleson's song, 'Soldier', a lot when I was writing this. View table of contents...


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Submitted:Jun 30, 2012    Reads: 2,350    Comments: 0    Likes: 9   

The Guard was trying to stay away from Isabella. For him, it was enough to lose himself in her welcoming curves once a week. Once a week was enough to lessen the ache in his loins, and keep him alert and focussed. Any more than that would create complications. It would mean his mind would be occupied with reckless sex and not with the promise he had made to his Lord. It would be too easy to spend his days lost in her full breasts and jiggling buttocks. Yes, it would be far too easy to lose himself that way, so he was avoiding her.

He was back to watching and observing, now with a renewed vigour. All he had discovered so far was this court's proclivity for debauchery. Wine and mead flowed freely, Ladies of loose virtue travelled the corridors in the depth of the night, gossip and scandal flowed freely as the wine. All enjoyed flirtations and secret liaisons, all except the King himself who seemed devoted to his new wife. He appeared to spend every single night in their private chambers, and according to his footmen, a great deal of this time shut in the actual bedroom, the sounds of loud lovemaking lasting most of the night.

But lately the King had begun to appear more in public, although not often accompanied by his wife, much to the Guard's disappointment. The Guard had barely set eyes on her since they had arrived. He had almost forgotten what she looked like, almost. And whenever he saw the King, he found himself picturing them both in bed, the King roughly manhandling her sweet flesh, and it hurt him to the depths of his soul, a soul he had almost forgotten he had.

One day he was in attendance in the Prince's reception room. He was keeping to the edges of the room, as Isabella was also in attendance and she was fixing him with a determined and lascivious gaze, her dark eyes burning ominously. It had been a week since their last coupling, a particularly frenzied fuck when he had bent her over the battlements, giving her a view of the rolling hills of the Kingdom, and him a view of his cock slamming into her arse.

The King lounged in a richly upholstered chair, drinking wine from a silver goblet and enjoying the attentions of two of the better looking wives of his Lords. The Queen was nowhere to be seen, and the Guard longed to set eyes on her again, see if her cheeks were still drawn and pale. Instead, he found himself faced with Isabella's seductive lips moving. He hadn't heard what she had just said.

'Not here,' he said brusquely.

She pouted and a hand slipped up his tight wool covered abdominal muscles to his chest, as she sighed indecently. He clamped his hand round her wrist and pushed her away.

'That hurts,' she cried, trying to wriggle from his grasp.

'Leave me alone,' he hissed through lips tightly clamped together, and then she gave a quick sideways glance under her eyelashes. Anyone else would not have noticed it, but the Guard did, and he followed the direction of the glance to find the King staring straight at them over the lip of his goblet.

He stood up slowly and walked towards them. The Guard immediately let go of Isabella. Isabella turned towards the Prince, but stayed standing far too close to the Guard.

'Your Highness,' she purred, pushing out her breasts slightly. The King's eyes went straight to her heaving cleavage.

'My Lady,' he drawled, and then looked straight at the Guard's crotch and then slowly travelled his body, back up to his eyes and fixed him with a cold stare. The Guard forced himself not to shiver.

'Report to my chambers in one hour,' he snapped at the Guard, and taking Isabella's arm, pulled her away.


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