Posted by Barbanne on December 02, 2001 at 22:19:33:
Tenth in line.
What a bummer!!
I was my father's tenth child, his sixth daughter and the last in line for the throne.
My sisters Gabriella, Anika, Dorothy and Judith were all true sisters, white skinned and brown haired, blue eyed offspring of our mother Galatea, a princess from Lygia. My sister Prunella was from Medea a Nubian Queen, my brothers John and James were from Alicia a princess of Atlantea and my brother Phillip was a dark haired son of an Iberian noblewoman and my other brother Davide was the son of a Grecian Queen.
Busy guy old King Rufus, my dad.
Gabriella was the eldest at thirty three and I was the youngest many years behind.
Aching to be Queen of Fantasia and last in line.
When Papa died in battle, his saddle slipped just at a wrong moment for him as he rode headlong into battle and the Black Knights cut him down, (I was serving as his foot maiden and ostler on that occasion) the throne became vacant and Prunella's mother pronounced herself Queen. My Mother had died trying for a sixth girl the year before, Alicia was long dead, (Daddy chopped her head for cheating on him with the troops) and the Iberian and Grecian ladies were long, long forgotten.
Prunella's Ma Medea was a really fat lady and after pronouncing herself Queen she set about ruling from her great bed surrounded by young and very athletic dark boys whom she told us were her advisers and insisted that she be kept supplied at all times with heaps of greasy food and scads of chocies.
Me she appointed her hand maiden.
"Barbanne," she said, "you minxie little bitch, stay right here where I can see you."
So I did.
Sweetness and light that's me, butter wouldn't melt in my mouth.
Medea was very fond of chocolate laced brandy and she would send me to get this from the kitchens downstairs.
I made her a drink to remember on this one occasion. I just knew it would suit her divinely, triple strength brandy and lashings of really sugary chocolate. She guzzled it down and demanded another. Who was I to say no.
Later that evening the whole palace was awakened, including a very sleepy me who dragged myself from my snuggly little nest among the bedclothes.
The Queen was ill!!
Along with just about everyone else I crowded into the royal bed chamber peering over my siblings.
Medea was writhing in agony on her bed. It seemed her tummy was giving her hell. And it was a BIG tummy. She writhed and shrieked and complained and cursed the palace doctors who had no idea what was wrong. They bled her and fed her powerful emetics.
She started vomitting and regal bowls were fetched to catch this. After heaps of chocolate brandy came up so did blood. First in trickles and then in great gouts. Finally Medea couldn't stop throwing up bloody flux and eventually she just plain bled to death.
The doctors were baffled and mortified. The palace was in mourning. I was hugely distressed and just wept buckets.
Later I took the remainder of the ground glass and threw it away far from the palace. One never knows just how much is needed in these matters and I had obviously over supplied.
John assumed the throne but his reign was brief.
Somehow, no-one knew how, he was ambushed by bandits on one of his many trips to collect tribute from his subjects and he and his whole retinue which included Dorothy (with whom I had discovered he was conducting an incestuous affair) were killed and their bodies stripped and hung from the trees of the deep forest.
The King's travel plans were secret and just how the bandits had been able to learn of them was a great mystery.
Oh by the way, did I tell you I had new pets?
Lovely little pigeons that would fly anywhere I wanted them too. Some even carried little messages to my girlfriends and even, on occasion, to others.
Gabriella and James assumed the throne as joint regents.
I was so pleased and kissed and hugged my tall lovely elder sister.
She and James made a beautiful couple.
I told everybody how happy I was that they were our new rulers.
Medea was right, at times I am a naughty wee minx and this little game was just one such time. Gabriella was fond of spending afternoons in the west tower in a little room with a wonderful view over the countryside and a more pleasant and secluded spot you couldn't find in the whole palace. The only drawback was the awfully steep and narrow spiral staircase you had to use to reach it. I smiled at how Gabriella would laugh at this as I crouched outside the door to her sanctuary.
"Help, Help," I squealed, "no, no, I am only a child, don't touch me that way."
I heard Gabriella thump on the floor and the door was flung open and crying, "Barbanne, Barbanne, is that you?", she raced out.
I don't know what I was thinking of standing there in the gloom. Gabriella rushed out and cannoned into where I was stretching my leg and tripped and with a lady like scream tumbled all the way down that awful staircase to the bottom. When the servants reached her she was all of a mess, her long lovely legs all naked and her neck broken in three places. Of course poor Gabriella was quite dead!
I thought it best not to fess up to my silly prank just in case.
James was heart broken, but not for long.
A few short weeks after poor, sweet Gabriella's funeral, we all went on a picnic to the cliff top overlooking the silver sea and during a game of blindman's bluff James fell to his death on the rocks far below. He was chasing me at the time as I recall.
The whole party was devestated, me most of all.
I was inconsolable.
I was also sixth in line now.
Then there was Prunella.
Twenty years old and voluptuous, my sister's cinnamon coloured skin showed her heritage from the dusky maiden Medea had been when our father had chosen to breed her. A total contrast to my own dead white freckled skin. Her smooth, shiny raven locks also differed greatly from my own ratty brown curls.
I came upon her in the great kitchen.
Prunella's voluptuousness was tending to chubbiness, in large part because she could not resist midnight visits to the larder to snack upon whatever was going. She was vacuously pretty and when I came upon her she was sitting by the light of a candle, wrapping her full succulent lips around the remains of a quail supper.
"What you got there Prue?"
She belched quietly and looked guilty.
"Just got the munchies all of a sudden," she grinned.
There was a wooden mallet lying on a shelf under the table which the cooks used to dispatch our livestock in preparation for meals.
I stooped, picked it up and put it behind me.
"Want some Barb?"
"Don't think so but lets see."
She proffered a wing leaning forward.
I whipped out the mallet and drew it back and struck all in one swift movement.
The brass bound head of the mallet smashed Prue right between and just above her eyes.
She went, "eerrrrrrrgghhh," and slumped back across the heavily planked table.
Then she started sliding toward the floor. I grabbed her nightshift and hauled her back up and flopped her across the table. I checked her carotid. No pulse. I checked her wrists but Prunella had snacked her last snack.
She was dead!
I stripped her clothes off and sprawled her naked across the table.
I returned the mallet to where it had come from and looked at my half sister. Her legs were spread wide, her feet and ankles surprisingly small and delicate, her thighs heavy, her cunt soft and juicy. Her arms were outflung, fingers curled and her eyes gazed in wide open surprise into the void of nothingness. Her mouth gaped open, her prominent upper teeth bared.
I took some long sprigs of fennel and stripped the lower parts of their stems and using the fingers of one hand to spread her flesh, slid them into her pussy until her vaginal walls gripped them and then repeated the dose in her ass hole so that spidery sprays of greenery emerged from her intimate femiminity like the plumes of a hat. Her gaping mouth was too good to ignore and selecting a lovely red, juicy apple I forced her jaws apart and then clamped her buck teeth into the flesh of the fruit.
I stood back to admire my handiwork.
Prunella looked for all the world like any other prime pig, slaughtered, slabbed and prepared for the oven.
Giggling quietly I left and returned to my bed.
Next morning the uproar was huge.
When I was woken from sleep to be told of the ghastly and gross murder of my half sister I was truly shocked and cried buckets.
But I had moved up to fifth place!
Phillip became King.
I began whispering in his ear about the dreadful people who may want to threaten his rule. "Have you noticed," I asked him, "how many people who have assumed Fantasia's throne have died prematurely?"
He looked at me with a puzzled frown.
"Could someone be trying to move up the ladder do you think?" I asked with a look of total innocence.
He was intrigued. I decided to reel him in.
"Davide has long wanted to rule," I said. This was true. Davide had often stated that he felt he would make a good king. He said that his Grecian heritage made him a strong candidate as Grecians ruled the world when the rest of us were still gibbering in our caves. Only thing was poor Davide had no real ambition to rule and only vaguely thought of such things. But jealousy is an insidious disease and once planted in Phillip's mind the idea quickly took root and flourished.
Like a good half sister I fed Phillip with titbits of gossip.
Davide had been seen at the royal tailors trying on kingly robes.
Davide was making friends with senior members of the royal guard.
Davide had started a dialogue with the neighbouring chiefs of the district.
Davide had told me that were he to become king I would be elevated to a royal consort.
Not altogether true but when I told it in hushed and deadly serious tones I saw that my seeds were maturing rapidly.
Davide was arrested and tried.
The evidence was flimsy but when a letter in Davide's hand written to the King of the Grecians offering him a pact between his country and Fantasia was produced it sealed his fate.
Davide denied having written the letter. He said he had been set up.
Pathetic! No-one believed him.
Poor Davide was executed in the castle dungeon one morning very early.
Now I was fourth.
Oh and did I tell you I had learnt this dinky new skill?
I could copy people's hand writing almost perfectly.
Forgery they call it.
A dreadful thing then occurred.
A document, written in Phillip's hand and telling of his plans to invade the Grecians somehow found its way into the King of the Grecian's hands. Together with Davide's execution it convinced that monarch that Fantasia posed a threat to his realm and he arranged for assassins to penetrate the palace and cut the throat of the treacherous Phillip.
The palace was in mourning.
Anika assumed the throne and made peace with the Grecians.
This "forgery" as they call it was, I decided, a wondrous skill.
And now I was third in line.
I was in no mood to tarry any longer.
I had done murder after all in the case of poor Prunella.
I had also been a bit naughty in other respects.
I took the captain of the guard into my bed and we forged an unholy and hot, wet and sticky alliance.
Once he was on side I had Anika and Judith arrested.
Documents were produced showing they had connived their way to the throne.
I found them myself in Anika's chambers. The hand writing was undoubtedly hers.
And there were heaps of them.
Anika and Judith were tried and found guilty.
Some courtiers and some amongst the armies protested that they were innocent.
By now, though, I had assumed the throne.
MY soldiers arrested all who protested the removal of the princesses Anika and Judith.
All such traitors died swiftly.
The two evil plotting girls were stripped down to their shifts and hung from the palace gates. As their bodies swung gently in the breeze I stood as a loving and dutiful sister should and gazed into their blackening faces, their tongues hanging out and as my subjects looked on I wept that such evil could exist in womanly form.
I was magnificent.
So now I rule.
Its wonderful how far a girl can get with a little bit of application.
Queen of Fantasia.
And barely old enough to vote.
If we ever allowed votes.
Wow what a truly dumb idea!
The captain of the guard and I are something else in bed. Pity he won't be around much longer. Now that I am queen I have to be careful that my faithful guys don't get ideas above their station. A good purge is a wonderful way to keep things in balance don't you think?
I have a new pastime.
Drawing up lists of people. People to move up, people to go down, people to just go. It keeps me alert and one has to be alert to succeed in this game of succession.