With her court adjourned, the Queen gathers her attendants and refrains to her bedchambers. Her Guard, stationed beside her throne through the proceedings, stays behind.
So too, notes the Guard with dismay, does the Queen’s thrice-accursed Jester, still writhing in laughter. What exactly the joke was, who could say. Certainly not the Guard. Nevertheless it seemed “funny” enough that the Jester was physically rolling on the ground, guffawing in their checkered bodysuit.
The Guard did her best to ignore it, imagining herself as a statue. Which wasn’t hard, given an appearance one would naturally call statuesque, even when not clad in Her regalia. A monument to her Queen’s glory. Her blade, serving in worship a-
“Well, lookie who got left behind with little old me!”
Oh Dear Goddess Where Did The Jester Come From
They were pressing themself against the Guard, looking up at her and grinning from behind their mask. The Guard couldn’t help but feel their chest pressed against her, soft even through the mail she wore.
“Whyever wouldn’t the Queen take such a tall drink of water with her?” The Jester’s voice was rasps and giggles.
“Just leave me be,” snarled the Guard, making a point of looking away.
“Oh, nonono! Never!” The Jester bent over, hugging the guard around the ass, face against her ever-more-uncomfortable groin. “Then I’d have nothing to play with!”
The Guard looked down to glare at the Jester, but instead ended up looking at their rear, just as curvy as the top half, wiggling playfully in the air. She felt her face flush.
“Oh, this?” said the Jester, somehow noticing her gaze. They flounced away to strike a pose. “All for protection, you understand! A fool’s job is a dangerous one.”
To demonstrate, the Jester very seriously began a series of twirls and tumbles, ending in a series of perfectly cushioned face- and ass-plants. The Guard could have sworn each one made a tiny squeaking noise.
“Tadaa!” they cried, bowing before the Guard. Perhaps caught up in the playfulness, the Guard vengefully knocked the jingly hat from the Jester’s head.
“Oh noo!” recoiled the Jester, recoiling back as if struck as their hat rolled across the room. Then they snapped back to attention, duplicate hat upon their head. The Guard gaped as the Jester giggled.
“My dear, don’t you know that a fool and their hat are not so easily parted?”
They took a bow. The Guard crossed her arms and looked away, sullen. Better not to give these types attention. Far be it from her to question her Queen but it was beyond the Guard why she had need of a creature like this.
“Now let’s see what we’re working with here!” said the Jester, now improbably directly beside the Guard. She turned just as they leapt into the air, snatching her helm. Her hair spilled out in waves and the Jester grinned lecherously. “Very nice!” they said, in what would only years later be recognized as a Borat impression. And somehow, in defiance of all laws of physics, they had time to plant a midair smooch on the lips of the Guard, who shoved them hard away in her fluster.
The Jester turned this backwards momentum into a flawless series of back handsprings, leaping into the air and performing a perfect center split before falling back to the ground and ripping their bodysuit directly up the middle. The Jester raised their arms in triumph. Then, as if this abuse was finally all too much for the garment, it burst into dust on the spot, leaving the Jester clothed in nothing but their hat and mask, curves of their dark-hued body on full display, cunt pressed to the cold stone floor.
The Guard was again lost for words. “Ah,” said the Jester. “It appears we’ve had a slight wardrobe malfunction-“
The Guard wasn’t hearing. She was too busy noticing how each gesticulated word they spoke set their breasts to shaking, hard nipples tracing sigils in the air.
She thought of all the nights she’d rubbed one out in private thinking of her Queen, all the endless hours sat beside but so longingly far, Her Hand but never to be touched by her hands…
“We’ll be taking a brief intermission!” said the Jester. However, their attempts to scooch out of the room were thwarted as a casually-tossed sword flew directly at them. It missed their head by inches, hitting the floor at an angle and sticking firm in place. The Jester blinked. “Or perhaps we’ll be staying right here! The show must go on, after all.”
“Why won’t you just shut your stupid fucking mouth!” spat the Guard, stalking towards them.
“Wanna kill me?” taunted the Jester. “Better do it in one shot. Better make it c-“
The Jester’s anachronism was cut short by a metal hand forced to their throat, huge, crushing and choking. The Guard gritted her teeth and squeezed, relishing the first fear in the Jester’s eyes. Then, Jester beneath her, with superhuman strength she ripped off the front of her armored leggings, letting loose the sharp upward swell of her throbbing pre-moistened cock.
The Jester’s wide eyes drooped to a knowing smirk. They’d have licked their lips had it been possible. The Guard released and wrapped both her arms beneath the Jester’s legs and hoisted them up, levering their body concave and positioned with their opening in perfect alignment. All done effortlessly, even with the ludicrous amount of ass in question.
One exploratory thrust. Then, satisfied with the angle, in one shot, she buried the whole of her shaft in the Jester’s awaiting folds. The Jester took it with ease, rocking violently backwards, jingling and jiggling, using the sword in the stone as a hold. And as a headboard, letting their head be knocked against it with each thrust, each moan.
“I’ve heard of swords into plowshares,” giggled the Jester between gasps. “But this is ridiculous!”
The Guard didn’t get the joke but she smiled and chuckled as she muttered to herself. “Even now? Let’s see if we can shut you up.”
“Oh yes!” cried the Jester, arching further into the thrusting. “Please shut me up! Shut this poor, miserable, wretched fool up!”
The Guard did her best to comply, drilling in further and impossibly deeper, feeling the walls of their cunt gripping tighter tighter, until at last…
“We’ll have a new audience soon,” said the Queen, re-entering, so if we could-“
She trailed off as she noticed the scene before her.
The Guard jolted to attention, popping briefly out of the Jester before their legs yanked her right back to thrusting.
“My liege!” she gasped.
“Hello, Queeny!” cried the Jester. “Looking positively dominant and breedable today!”
The Queen sat on her throne. “Oh, do pardon my surprise. It’s just a shock to see you two getting along. Especially you, My Blade. Always so stiff.”
The Guard blinked, mouth agape.
“Oh, I assure you she’s still quite stiff!” yelled the Jester.
“Yes, well,” said the Queen, settling in to watch. “When you’re done with the entertainment, would you clean up? We have guests.”
“Oh yes!” said the Jester, “I’m positively filled with excitement!”
The Guard shook her head. Nothing made sense anymore. Well, almost nothing. She looked down at the Jester’s conspiratorial grin. Oh well. If it was a show her Queen wanted, then…
She set back to fucking the fool with renewed vigor. The halls of the grand castle were filled with the echoes of the jingling bells adoringing the Jester’s ruined outfit.
(originally published on Twitter here)