The knight stood guard outside the chamber door. The halls of the castle, lit only by a last few guttering torches, echoed faintly. The witching hour was long past, and all but the final shift of guardsmen were asleep.
Sir Aldred had been until recently a knight of very little consequence. Hailing from a remote village in the highlands, the young warrior had been apprenticed to one of the many wandering knights who took whatever menial work they could find. The lad had proved himself adept at swordplay and the joust and was quickly knighted, allowing him to enter – and win – many a fighting tournament. This last had granted him enough prestige to trust him with the sacred duty of guarding the Princess Helen’s private chambers.
Of course, “Sir Aldred” did not really exist. Underneath the armor and a few strategic layers of linen bandages was a woman’s heart. Agnes’s secret had been well-kept. She had a reputation as a stalwart if rather quiet gentleman and intended to keep it. She had been briefly apprenticed to a seamstress before becoming a knight’s squire and had no desire to return to such a mind-numbingly boring occupation.
Agnes turned her head slightly as the many interior bolts of the chamber door were slid aside and the door pushed open. The princess emerged, curling golden hair still mussed from sleep.
“Sir,” she said quietly, “I have trouble sleeping. Could you come inside?”
Agnes shook her head. “My lady, with no chaperone, being in your chambers would be most improper. I shall remain guard out here.”
Princess Helen’s brilliant green eyes narrowed at the knight’s denial. “But sir,” she wheedled, “I will not sleep a moment alone in these gloomy rooms.” Agnes shifted her position, feeling rather like a large target despite her armor. “If anyone asks, I will simply tell them that I was having nightmares and begged you to rescue me from them.”
Behind her visor, Agnes closed her eyes. Slowly, she shook her head, making her gleaming steel armor squeal slightly in protest. It would need oiling upon the morrow.
The princess folded her arms across her chest and pressed her lips into a thin line. “If you do not do what I say, I shall start screaming.”
Agnes swallowed heavily. What a spoiled brat. “Very well,” she said. It would be better to obey for now. She could surely slip back to her post as soon as the princess fell asleep again.
The princess moved her full lips into a smile and instantly all traces of irritation or guile vanished from her youthful face. She beckoned to the knight and re-entered her chambers. Agnes followed, carefully closing and bolting the door behind them.
The chambers belied the princess’s description. Many candles set inside silver lanterns hung upon the walls, filling the small main room with a flickering yellow light. A large tapestry depicting a foxhunt adorned the far wall, while the stone floor was covered with a large woven rug in yellow and orange thread. A doorway next to the tapestry presumably led to the princess’s wardrobe and washroom. The bed, a large affair for a single teenage girl, dominated the room. It was canopied with crimson silk, and the rose-colored eiderdown was rumpled, as though the princess had indeed been tossing and turning rather than sleeping soundly.
Princess Helen threw herself onto the bed. Her white nightgown had come open at the throat, uncovering part of the swell of her breasts. She toyed with her hair for a few moments, removing a small number of pins. Golden curls cascaded downwards, framing her face and falling to the middle of the girl’s back. She stared at the armored knight, who still stood stiffly in front of the door.
“Remove your helmet,” the princess ordered suddenly. Slowly, Agnes did so, revealing her face.
Agnes had her hair cropped slightly shorter than was the current fashion among men, so it fell evenly to the bottom of her ears in lank brown locks. She kept her deep brown eyes cast downwards as though admiring the weave of the rug.
“You have no beard,” Helen observed. “Nor even any stubble.” Agnes didn’t respond. The princess slid off the bed and walked up to the knight, carefully examining her face and even going so far as to run a finger over Agnes’s hairless jaw. She then reached up to Agnes’s right shoulder and began unbuckling the breastplate. Agnes started and moved as though to stop her, but a raised eyebrow from the princess stilled her hand. The breastplate soon joined the helmet on the floor.
The princess moved quickly, unfastening Agnes’s grieves and bracers with a practiced hand, continuing until all of Agnes’s armor lay in an unceremonious heap on the rug. She reached for the collar of Agnes’s plain linen tunic, and Agnes flinched.
“You act as though you’ve never felt the touch of a woman, Sir Aldred,” the princess said. “Though. . .you are not what you seem, are you?”
Heart pounding, Agnes shook her head. Her breath caught slightly as the princess’s light fingers traced a line down her throat and gently pulled the collar of her tunic downwards, revealing the top of the rows of bandages which bound her breasts. She had always been able to hide behind her armor, and no one had ever dared order her to remove it.
The princess seemed to consider some moments. “You would lose your head if I revealed your perversion to the court.” Her voice was almost cheery. “But, if you kiss me this instant, your secret will be safe.”
Agnes frowned. “Did you miss something? I am not a man.”
“That’s why I want you to kiss me,” the princess explained patiently. “I am to be married in a scant three months, when I turn seventeen. I know perfectly well what men are like. I much prefer women.”
Agnes bit her lip, then bent, intending to plant a chaste kiss upon the princess’s pale cheek. As she lowered her head though, the princess grabbed her with both hands. Entwining her fingers in Agnes’s short hair, Princess Helen pressed her parted lips to Agnes’s mouth, firm tongue seeking entry.
The knight jerked backwards, shocked to find herself covered in a light veil of sweat. Her hands trembled slightly, and she swallowed heavily. It took enormous effort to prevent her eyes from straying to the princess’s open bodice, which now tested the very limits of propriety.
The princess’s face grew gentler. “I could order you,” she said. “And I know you would obey. But I will ask. Please. Please let me have you tonight. I promise you that you will be dressed and re-armored by dawn. I promise to protect your secret.”
Wordlessly, Agnes pulled her shirt over her head and stood before the princess in only her bandages and breeches. The tall woman had a lithe figure hardened by her knight’s life. She stood a full head-and-a-half over the slight princess.
Princess Helen took a moment to admire the other woman’s sculpted abdomen and muscular arms before reaching up and unwinding the bandages. Beneath them were two beautifully large breasts, dark nipples fully erect in the candlelight.
“Sit on the bed,” the princess ordered. Agnes obeyed, still trembling. The princess unlaced the knight’s boots in short order, then pushed gently backwards on Agnes’s shoulders, pinning her to the bed. Still clad in her billowing white nightgown, Helen climbed on top of Agnes, straddling her in order to kiss her again. This time, the two women’s tongues danced together, leaving Agnes shuddering with unfamiliar desire. She was painfully aware of the princess’s weight above her and of a growing heat between her own lean thighs.
Helen’s lips fluttered down to Agnes’s neck, and her red tongue traced a thin line up to her ear. “Pay close attention,” the princess whispered, breath brushing Agnes’s earlobe. “For you will do for me what I am going to do to you.”
With that, Princess Helen slipped her nightgown over her head, revealing flawless pale skin and pert breasts. Dumping the gown on the floor, she resumed her attentions upon the female knight. Her hands kneaded Agnes’s breasts as her tongue flickered down the prone woman’s chest, gradually moving to an erect dark nipple. She closed her lips over the quivering flesh and sucked, eliciting a soft moan from her partner.
Tongue still flicking over the other woman’s breast, Helen’s hands moved to the drawstring of Agnes’s breeches, deftly loosening it and tugging them downward. Her fingers followed, parting the dark pubic hairs and pressing gently at the top of Agnes’s sex.
“Do you like this?” Helen asked, staring up at the knight’s face. Breathless, Agnes nodded. With that, Helen began making slow circles over the hard nub of flesh, gradually increasing tempo as her lover’s breath came faster and faster. Still circling with the pad of her thumb, Helen shifted the angle of her hand and slowly inserted her first two fingers inside Agnes. They slid inside easily, natural wetness lubricating the tight opening.
Agnes gasped and bit back a cry as Helen’s fingers entered her and began stroking the inside of her body. Her hips bucked upwards involuntarily as the princess increased the speed of her administrations. Every single one of her muscles seemed to be tightening up, as though tensing before a massive leap.
With a small sigh, Helen lowered her mouth onto Agnes, tongue parting the folds of pink flesh. As her fingers curled slightly during their thrusts, her tongue massaged the outer folds of Agnes’s womanhood. Agnes spasmed slightly and whimpered before finally cresting.
Her orgasm sent tremors over her whole body, from her innermost parts contracting around the princess’s fingers to her fluttering eyelids. Only a faint sense of self-preservation kept her from screaming with ecstasy as waves of pleasure washed over her, and instead of screaming she gritted her teeth and moaned.
The princess Helen pulled away as Agnes’s movements abated. Then she slowly lifted herself back over the other woman’s body, almost absentmindedly dropping occasional kisses as she traversed the short distance. Agnes felt a tongue trace the line of her ribs before alighting briefly on the inside of her wrist. A soft kiss at the base of her neck became sudden sucking and a small nip which made Agnes gasp again. Finally, Helen caressed both of Agnes’s breasts again and returned to her original position in order to plant urgent kisses on her mouth with lips still wet from Agnes’s nether parts.
“As I have served you,” the princess asked between kisses, “are you now ready to serve me?”
Agnes responded by groping for Helen’s small, firm breasts, massaging each one gently before teasing the pink nipples.
“I want you inside me,” said the princess, briefly grinding their hips together. Her wetness left a small moist trail on Agnes’s pelvis. She scooted up slightly, now straddling Agnes’s stomach instead of her legs, and reached for one of Agnes’s hands. She guided the other woman’s hand downwards, placing it flat against her sex. Agnes marveled at the softness of Princess Helen’s downy pubic hair contrasted with the fleshy wetness, at the small rounded body above her which was so different from her own angular form. She extended two fingers, as the princess had earlier, and was more than a little surprised when Helen thrust herself down upon them.
Helen’s body closed tightly around the knight’s fingers, clenching as though it would try to entrap them. Remembering Helen’s own motions within her body, Agnes curled her fingers slightly forward while slowly withdrawing them, as though beckoning someone to come toward her. She was rewarded with a small gasp from the princess and immediately increased the pace of her movements, hand quickly becoming soaked with the other woman’s fluids.
Helen came quickly, interior muscles pulsing around Agnes’s fingers. Before her involuntary shudders had completed, though, she had lifted herself off the other woman’s hand and moved still more forward until her knees pressed into the bed on each side of Agnes’s face.
“I want you to taste me, sir knight,” she said. Agnes nodded eagerly. “Ask for it,” Helen ordered. “I want to hear you beg me for it.”
Words were, in that moment, difficult for Agnes to remember. “P-please,” she stuttered breathlessly, after a few silent moments. “My lady, please let me taste you. I beg of you, please. . .please honor me.”
“Ask me again.” The princess’s voice was cool and amused, almost detached.
Words came more easily now. “My lady, my royal highness, please give me leave to kiss you where I’ve no right. I beg you grant me this, your loyal servant.”
Satisfied, the princess lowered her hips over the knight’s face. Agnes pressed her mouth to the princess’s sex, gently kissing the folds of flesh before slipping her tongue in between them. The fragrance and taste of the other woman, heavy and musky and feminine, filled her world. Agnes closed her eyes and concentrated upon exploring the most intimate parts of her lady, stretching her tongue as far inside Helen as she could before withdrawing to once again caress the outer lips with her moist mouth.
Helen began moving her hips back and forth, grinding her sex against Agnes’s face. Agnes felt the princess’s hands snake through her hair, grabbing handfuls of it to stabilize her balance and pinning her head to the bed beneath them. A rivulet of clear liquid from the princess dripped down her cheek, and her tongue frantically moved over the princess’s flesh, desperate to please her again.
The princess’s motion grew more erratic as desire mounted. She was positively dripping now, as much wetness sliding down her lover’s throat as smeared upon her chin and lips. Finally, she peaked again with a groan, legs trembling with exertion. She rolled off Agnes and collapsed upon the bed, eyes closed and mouth stretched in a blissful grin.
Agnes slowly sat up and regarded the smaller woman thoughtfully. She untangled her legs from her breeches, then stood, planting her bare feet on the floor. Ignoring Helen’s unconvincing protests, she scooped her up in her arms and crossed to the nearest section of wall, that covered by the tapestry.
“What are you doing?” Helen finally asked. Agnes chose to once again reply with actions rather than words. With a quick heave of her powerful arms, she draped Helen’s legs over her own shoulders and helped Helen balance herself by leaning the girl against the tapestry. Supporting Helen’s weight with her shoulders as well as with her hands pressed firmly against her buttocks, Agnes craned her head forward slightly into Helen’s invitingly-spread cleft. Her efforts were rewarded with a small gasp and a fair amount of ineffectual squirming.
“That’s not fair,” Helen protested. Agnes smiled a little and buried her face deeper, sucking and licking the most sensitive part of the princess’s anatomy while the fingers of one hand once again penetrated the woman.
After some moments she pulled her face away. “It is a knight’s duty to serve her lady,” she reminded Helen, still thrusting with her fingers. “Am I serving you as you wish?”
Without waiting for an answer, she returned her mouth and tongue to their former activities, feeling drops of Helen’s fluids strike her own breasts and slowly begin rolling downward. As she had hoped, using the wall and Helen’s own weight as leverage allowed her to more easily place pressure upon the princess’s sex. Helen’s breathing quickly sped into panting, and her legs wrapped tightly around the knight’s neck.
“Don’t stop,” she said, shuddering. “Oh, please don’t stop.”
Agnes didn’t stop until Helen had once again climaxed, hips arching and pushing into her face. Once spent, Helen slumped, and Agnes gathered her again into her arms and laid her back on the bed.
The castle was beginning to rustle with the noises preceding dawn: cooks placing the morning’s loaves in the ovens, maids waking up and beginning the morning chores, guards leaving their duties.
“I should dress,” Agnes said with some urgency. Helen nodded, and though she was heavy-eyed she stood and helped Agnes into her clothes and armor again, even re-winding the bandages which bound Agnes’s breasts. Agnes made to replace her helmet and return to the corridor, but Helen’s hand stayed her.
“Stay in here,” she pleaded. “I’ll dress again, and make to be asleep with you standing watch.”
Agnes smiled and watched the princess struggle into her nightgown, fumbling with the pale blue lacing in front until it. “Am I decent?” Helen asked, spreading her arms as though to showcase the fully-laced gown. Agnes nodded and gave the princess a hand back up into the blood-red bed, hands twitching over the bedclothes to ensure that her lady was fully covered.
The knight watched silently as the princess’s breaths slowly slowed and became the easy, shallow sighs of the fast asleep. She had barely been standing vigil an hour before a soft knock echoed faintly through the door. Taking care to replace her helmet and lower the visor, Agnes answered the door. She held up one finger before her hidden mouth, then jabbed it at the sleeping princess.
The maid at the door, a wizened old crone with a twisted back, smiled apologetically. “Did she have nightmares again?” she asked in an undertone.
Agnes nodded. “She demanded I stand in here while she slept.”
“I did the same many a night when she was but a babe,” the maid replied. “Makes for a long vigil, though. I generally brought my crocheting.”
Grateful for the helmet which concealed her brash grin, Agnes conceded that watching the princess sleep made for extremely dull duty.
After a few hours’ sleep in her own scantily-furnished quarters near the stable, Agnes rose again, prepared to move on to her next assigned station. A town a day’s ride away had announced a new tournament, and she was in need of more gold as well as occupation. Sir Aldred would be expected to make an appearance.
Before she could do more than walk out to the stables, though, one of the various ladies-in-waiting hailed her.
The girl couldn’t have been more than thirteen years old and her red hair was in disarray. She was panting, unable to catch her breath as though she’d been running a mile or more, and clutching a stitch in her side.
“Princess Helen,” she managed, after waving off Agnes’s offer to support her to a nearby milking stool. “Has decided to hire a bodyguard to accompany her in the months leading up to her wedding. Asked me to find you.” More gasps. “Requests that you stay on duty.”
Agnes considered the offer for a few moments before giving calm assent, smiling broadly behind the visor that hid her face.