Thread: Princess Park

Princess Elizabeth of England The heir to the regal throne of the Red Lion. Tea Times available by reservation only Photo Sessions 915 - 935 and 1215 - 1245 daily, 315 - 345 Sat and Sun As they came to the edge of Japonaise, the ground showing the cultured gardens and layouts of the path and plants in squares and hexagons. All the plants were dead still, though in small spots he could see sprouts of green amid the ichor covered thorns. The entire area of the park was big, it felt like they were walking in circles as if the park had become a maze of hedge rimmed paths lit by a fading glow of the paper lanterns. The sky was lighter, a feel as of some great thing that was about to awake lay in the air, but the feeling of somnolence still hung about like a heavy scent. Torn between being incredibly horny, made worse by Princess Japonaise rubbing her body against him, and a desire to sleep David steeled himself to keep walking. Looking at the dark haze of London Town, the next part of the park, that hung just over the tall hedges of Japonaise. They walked past another row of games, the stuffed animals watched him warily, David felt nervous as he saw them, blank, button eyes staring at him as sweat broke out on his brow waiting for the first motion from any of the dolls. Nothing happened, only the Princess chatting happily along, the words passed through him as inconsequential as she recounted certain parts of the kingdom as if it was all real. Amid all the happy chatter, David realized she was happy enough to talk so long as he grunted or nodded assent, an occasional yes was all that was required, anything more seemed to annoy her. Every now and again as her breasts rubbed against his arm, that she held in an iron grip he relented to, a hand would reach down and cup his erection. A touch, a giggle, and an offer to let him fuck her again. David wanted to, as his cock strained against his pants he so wanted to do her again. Feel that sweet ass around his cock one more time, her soft, round cheeks in his hands. Like fucking a peach, he thought. That little cleft just like a sweet peach to shove himself into over and over again, until he came into her with a deep torrent of white spunk. Realizing they had stopped and her hand was in his pants he started walking, her hand pulled out as they moved, tightening his pants they came to the dark line of Japonaise and London Town. Oh, don't go yet, she sweetly asked him as he almost had a foot over the line. We could have so much fun, you can do me any way you like, she smiled at him in alluring curl to her lips that he wanted to pull down his pants again and give it all to her. I need to check out, he pulled himself harder. The death grip on his arm loosening as his nervousness made him sweat, her grip slipping under the wet dust that caked his skin. Sliding his arm out he almost fell as he stepped over to London Town, past the line, the horny feeling fading like a door was closed on it. Stomping her foot in a huff she turned and took a step, stopping as she raised her dress, showing him her wet, hairless slit and the brown pucker of her ass. You'll be back for more, everyone does, she smiled lustfully at him and blowing him a kiss leaped and flew over the hedges and disappeared into Japonaise. Turning David felt something in the air, a chill. Something angry almost, a current in the air that almost felt like it was stinging him in annoyance. As if he was a gnat, a slight swat to get him away, but not a broad slap to kill him. London Town seemed darker than Japonaise was, the area shrouded in a fog that crept along the ground, hiding much of the path, though swirls in the fog often showed parts of the dust covered landscape. Fewer hedges here, walls lined most of the paths. Reaching over to touch one, the fake cement walls were shaped to look like rough stones with mortar between. An occasional wall of brick crowned with slabs of stone, the bricks could be red, though the same colorless dust covered everything as he walked in among a rise of shops and gift stores. Brick building storefronts, only one floor with wide windows displaying piles and bins of candies, gifts, sundries, and tea. Some even had a second story that looked more fake than real, just the front of a second floor to give height to the street. All of it looking like some scene from a Victorian movie, the feel of the place was England as one would think of it, more of a sense than of detail. The Matron landed quietly before him, eyes radiating annoyance. Done with your little fuck doll? The tea cup clattered on the tray for the first time. What, her? David felt shy, as if he was being chastised by an aunt or teacher for doing something bad. I didn't, he stammered. You did, her eyes narrowed and as she poked a long, thin finger painfully deep into his shoulder her breast swayed, catching his attention. You fucked her in the ass again, didn't you? And you wanted more. David shrugged after a moment realizing she was right. Stupid fucking cock. She leaned back, shoulders up, a pissed expression on her face that would have scared him more if she had the undead mask on. She'll kill you, she stated flatly. What? He asked surprised, the mist coalescing around them. Anger and somnolence began to wash over him in waves. The Princesses hold court, so they have courtiers. Fuck one 4 times and she'll suck the life out of you and, a shrug of her shoulders hinted at his demise. Words were not needed. So if I fuck her 4 times I die?! David began counting, it was only twice. An evil thought coming to mind of one more safe fuck of her delicious ass, like a peach. David suddenly desired peaches, looking around as if expecting a fruit stand to sell them appearing out of no where. A pang of hunger rolled through his belly. No one dies here, she stated, calming as if her warning was all she wanted to get across. Well, not like you think of it. The emphasis on the word you was unmistakable. I'm sorry, he said for no reason that he could think of. Though he did find the Matron scary he liked her more than the Princess. She actually seemed helpful, and something about her was comforting, if not, well, Matronly. Slowly she smiled, really? Never had a cock apologize before, eyes widening for a moment then settling into an expression of happiness. Taking his arm and kissed his cheek, a cool feeling where her lips touched his skin, it was exciting but it wasn't the suddenly wave of desire to fuck her like the Princess. It was more friendly, familiar. Forgiven, was all she said and walked with him. What about you? If I fucked you 4 times, he started hoping he had the count right. Noting how the mist now avoided them, an island of clarity in its shadows. Me? I don't have a court. I help the court, she thought for a moment. Though I have drained a few cocks its more a slow process, so you probably have a 100 or so fucks with me before I suck you dry. Mostly I pull out your essence for them, her tray gestured around them. With me you have less to worry about. Not like Elizabeth. She's a bad girl. Bad girl? Turning his head to look back at Japonaise and something she said came back to him, when the Princess kills someone what happens? They walked down an alley, the building fronts close together filling the street with shadow. A chill ran through him as he heard another scream in the air, this one sounded more like frustration than anything that scared him like before. As they came towards the end of the alley the Matron stopped. What is it? The Matron took her arm away, you should go on alone from here. A hand on his shoulder and she turned to go, leaving his question unanswered. Uh, thanks. He said apologetically, looking down at his feet. She turned, gave him a short smile then walked towards the other end of the alley and disappeared around the corner. The buildings seemed to grow together, as if the upper floors were attracted to each other as the alley became closed in from above. A feeling of oppression grew on him, the shadows within the doorways grew, an ominous aura creeping out of the dark doors. An electric feeling of dread tingled in the air, touching him like static and making the small hairs on the back of his neck and arms stand up. Stepping away from the buildings as if they were alive and groping for him he quickened his steps, that feeling of something just there, just beyond his sight nagged at him. The sensation urging him on, steps quickened as his heart began to pound and his breath came short, foot before foot went quicker but the alley kept extending, as if there was no end to it. Like the feeling in a dream when running brings you no closer to your goal, the light at the end of the alley just out of reach. A hand went up, trying to grab for it, the hammering in his ears of his own blood and heart and it seemed as if he would never get out. Then he stepped into a large square. A big fountain in the center of the cobble stone street, the stones like the ripples on a pond, ever increasing circles that radiated out from the central pole of the fountain. The small hiss of something like water within the pool, it was not water, but the thick, black liquid he had seen before. A thin spray of it that fell soundlessly into the main pool of the fountain, around it in four directions were open, wheeled carriages, no horses or harnesses just large, open two plush seats with open sides and small steps leading up. They looked fancy, as if they might be gaily colored and used for a royal parade, if not for the ever present dust that took the color from everything. Standing on one of the carriages was a tall, young lady, her face staring at the ooze of the fountain. The dress was wide with ribbons and lace that expanded out from her waist, as if it was a wedding cake made into a dress. The neckline of the dress was high, reaching up to just under her chin, and the back of her neck. A thin bunch of lace like a cushion on which the head rested. Her hair was piled up on top of her head, in a long swirl. The face serene and oval shaped, looking like a blank, white porcelain doll, with the black lips and eyes that David had grown accustomed to. Her hands held in front of her, long arms with long hands, right clasped over the left, a lace trimmed fan in lace gloved hands. Her head turned around impossibly, like an owl, to stare back at him, the blank expression changed in a moment, the mouth opening revealing the black hole within. Though he'd already seen the Matron and Japonaise with the same look it did not decrease the ripple of fear that ran down his back, the high cheeks pulled back as the mouth formed a slight grin under the pert nose. Hands moved and the fan snapped open to cover the mouth in mock embarrassment, then it snapped shut again to point at him then to the ground before the carriage. Slowly he walked over, watching for any signs of movement from the Princess, he knew this had to be the one from London Town, his feet moving slightly under his own volition. The imperious way she stood, erect, with the tight bodice pushing up her pert breasts and the thin waist. The dress looked immaculate and untouched but old, very, very old. David made his way across the open square, the buildings that surrounded him he now noticed were all tea rooms, in each window shadowed figures sat at a table, featureless in dark Victorian dress, male and female couples sitting stiff blank mannequin like faces smoothed over, hands all crossed over in laps. As he came closer he could see the Princess grow in stature and defiance to him, the mouth opening wider in a slight gasp of pleasure as the empty eyes looked down on him. The body quaked and shivered, the air quavering about her, then she was on the street before him. Why are you here? The voice, a tight, strained whisper cooed in his ear, the voice rising and falling with each syllable. I'm looking for someone, he started and stopped as the fan came up and slapped him across the face. The sting of the fan burned on his cheek. Why are you here? She repeated, insistent. David looked at her with a burning in his eyes, the pain in his cheek a faded stinging. I said I am here looking for someone, he began as the fan came up faster and struck the other cheek, his head turning aside as he looked askance at her, his eyes rimming with tears from the pain. Spots on both cheeks burned with pain. Don't do that again, he started as she came close to him. A smell of old tea came with her, she moved sinuously, her torso shifting but her legs and skirt seemed stuck to the floor. A slight rustling came from the skirts that seemed held together by ribbons and bows up and down in lines, almost like stitches. Like a bobble doll her arms and head moved side to side as her head came close, then half-circled around him, the blank eyes examining him as she breathed heavily. The dress was white, stained and seemed to reek of something sour, though he could not place the scent. The mouth opened to gasp at him, the nostrils on the small nose flared as if taking in his scent. Why are you, she began. Instinctively he grabbed and took the fan from her, the head and torso tilting back in surprise and he struck her across the face, a satisfied gasp coming from her head that turned away. No mark on her, but for a moment he saw a look of pleasure in her expression. Strong, he voice came, rising and falling into whispers. Then the head snapped back towards him, the look changing to one of menace as her brow furrowed and the eyes slanted, arms and hands rising above her facing him in a gesture he was becoming all to familiar with. Not strong enough, the hands came down onto his shoulders and as the air left his lungs his body flung back and he slid across the rough stones stopping as his head hit the low curb outside one of the tea houses. Not strong enough, the words came as she drifted towards him, hands reaching out to rend him apart.