Okay, okay when I first began writing this it was supposed to be a thousand words. I can't help it that you ended up with 6500 words. Really.

Still either way I hope you like it. If you do tell me about it. If you don't like it you can go suck eggs.

Anyway let me let you get to the story. Before I ramble to the end...

One Thousand and One CTR Knights.

Once upon a time in Coffeetimeland, a country far in the distance of time and place, there was a lonely Sultana. This beautiful lady knew the peace and freedom her people enjoyed would continue only if she married a strong husband and bore him heirs to the throne. Alas, her needs and requirements for the prospective groom were high, and the failure to achieve those specifications severe. Recorded here is the story of this sad queen and the fates of the heroic men who attempted to service, uhm, woo her.

This is a deuced awkward position, Calinnia decided, taking another bite from her apple. Couldn’t he just go faster and get it over with.

Kneeling on all fours, elbows and knees protected by silk cushions, and her sex wantonly displayed to her clueless lover, had to be the most tedious thing she’d done since attempting to learn embroidery. He avidly shuffled behind her, then shoved himself in knocking the breath out of her for a moment. Gasping in a deep breath she took another bite of her apple hoping, again, this would be over soon.

He was the twelfth knight Calinnia had tried in as many days. All of the previous eleven had let her down miserably and Mr Jolly Roger here gave no indication he’d be any different. If only she could have been a normal woman, living a normal woman’s life.

Unfortunately, as the Sultana it was her duty to find a husband who’d father strong heirs to lead her people—a duty she intended to do her utmost to fulfill. Especially since Sultan Abanar from Romancedivaland sought marriage with her—mainly so he could plunder her body and treasure rooms, Calinnia suspected. Calinnia was determined to find a suitable marriage partner from amongst her own people. But one thing she insisted on was a certain amount of satisfaction and pleasure from her all her duties—this one wouldn’t be otherwise. She would only marry a man who could satisfy her in bed. Such a simple task, one would have thought. She wasn’t asking for taxing and highly acrobatic positions, nor a million orgasms in one night. Though two or three would be pleasing, Calinnia would be happy with just one.

Surely it couldn’t be that hard? She squeezed her pussy muscles, feeling the solid rod of flesh inside her, the flagging knight grunted—a signal that he was close to spilling his seed. Well, it was hard apparently. Knight number twelve, Sir Lickalot, was a favorite of her slave handmaidens. The silly girls had almost guaranteed her a night of unbridled orgasms, so had her other friends, the ones who’d recommended knights one through eleven.

All the knights had eagerly come, literally, in their efforts to please her. Calinnia was the only one who hadn’t. Well, until after they’d fallen asleep, and in the pre-dawn light she’d resorted to her favorite solid gold phallus, and the frenetic use of her fingers.

The tense grunting and whines coming from behind her let her know Lickalot couldn’t holdalot longer. Taking another bite from an apple that was rapidly becoming as tasteless as the sex, she squeezed her vaginal muscles in a quick three-two rhythm. She looked back to see the knight’s face turn bright red as he shuddered in orgasm. Four, five… nine strokes it took for him to empty himself into her. There was so much she could feel his cum running down her thighs. Great, he was an inconsiderate lover as well as a boring one. Now she had to bathe before she could get dressed and get on with her day.

A day not too far in coming, she sighed, catching the first hint of the morning sun through the tall arched window of her bedchamber.

Lickalot caught her gaze then looked at her in horror, realizing he’d just sealed his fate as the other eleven had done.

“No, please, I…”

Lickalot’s voice cracked as Slayham and ten of his eunuch underlings entered, perfectly timed as always. Slayham was her head eunuch and as loyal and trustworthy as they came.

Lickalot stood up, carefully backing away from the small crowd of super-muscled slaves.

“If you give me another chance, I can do it. I know I can.”

Covering his flaccid cock with his hands the knight backed up further, against the window. It was a pointless maneuver. From the tower here it was almost a thousand foot drop down the cliffs to the land below.

“Your eminence?” Slayham bowed to Calinnia, his body posture a silent question regarding the knight’s fate.

Calinnia sighed, tossing the half-eaten apple to a small, pinch-faced monkey that scampered about in its cage. “Off with his head,” she ordered. “Take him to Mildred then fill my bath.”


Lickalot’s plaintive scream was carried out of the room as a small platoon of grinning eunuchs dragged him to his doom.

Another good knight wasted.

Calinnia stretched, studying the intricately embroidered silk canopies that looped across the ceilings. It would be a good six weeks before Sir Lickalot would be able to perform his soldierly duties again and never again as a man. They ought to be grateful, Calinnia reminded herself. At least this way they only lose their pride and not their lives. Any knight who couldn’t satisfy his Sultana had no right attempting to satisfy any woman in her realm.

A loud buzzing noise, followed by a sharp scream echoing through the palace, let her know the deed was done. Shortly after that a stream of busy eunuchs entered and began filling her bath with steaming water. Taking a selection of her favorite scents Calinnia poured the powders into the water, stirring them idly with her toes to help them dissolve, and then she stepped down into the bath. Relaxing in the soothing warmth she went through the list of “to do’s” she carried about in her mind.

She should send more troops to Avengart. The small city, just this side of the border with Romancedivaland, had been experiencing an explosion of bandits and cut throats on the countryside roads, farms and villages lately. Forging an alliance to fight the blackguards had been one of Abanar’s main arguments for marriage. Calinnia shuddered at the thought. Marrying Abanar would be like wedding an eel. She could imagine his touch being as slimy as the words he spoke.

Then she had to hold special court today, hearing those crimes that her lords and ladies had fabricated or imagined against each other. The increased disunity amongst her people was a growing concern.

After that she was having a small, private lunch with Jula—her best, probably only, friend and confidant. Calinnia would often prefer Jula’s council to that of her trained staff. Lunch with her, up on the planted terraces, would be a pleasant distraction from the current news she kept receiving. All the countries around her were preparing for war, driven on by rumors and reports from the outlying realms of a growing, invincible army of metal warriors. Calinnia wanted to draw Jula’s opinion on the rumors, her friend’s scholarly bent would help sort the truth from fable.

Enough of war, rumors and slimy sultans, Calinnia decided. Lying back in the water she felt its warmth ease over her breasts and shoulders as she reached for her golden phallus. Now, it was time to relax.


“So Sir Lickalot lostalot?” Jula inquired, cutting a slice of roasted camel meat into bite sized pieces.

“Well, I guess he was rather larger than the others,” Calinnia admitted. “Though I don’t understand why the slaves were so upset. I had to have them whipped this morning; they wouldn’t stop crying over him.”

“So size didn’t make a difference?”

“Only if you counted his ego,” Calinnia decided, nibbling at a spear of roasted gourd. “He’s the worst of them all so far. What I need is someone like your Alfie. I’m sure he’d be able to give me a good time.”

“Uh nuh, girl, no way you’re going to let Mildred slice my man’s bits off,” Jula countered, she paused between bites to wipe guava juice from her mouth. “Tell you what though, Alfie knows someone. One of your knights from the borderlands. Alfie thinks Hubba could work out for you. And,” Jula leaned in closer, whispering so the servants wouldn’t overhear. “Hubba might have some info about the rumors you’ve heard.”

“War.” Calinnia swallowed, fighting back the wave of grief that flooded over her. “If only father hadn’t gone wild boar hunting, then he’d never have been killed by the tigers. He’d have known how to stop the rumors, and found out who started them.”

“Well,” Jula said, still whispering as she gave a wary glance at the guarding eunuchs. “There are some of us who have…ideas, about that.”

“It was an accident,” Calinnia waved Jula’s arguments aside. “If Slayham hadn’t been there by his side when it happened, we’d have had nothing left of father to bury, his tomb would be barren.”

“Well, talk to Sir Hubba tonight,” Jula advised.

“Oh, I sincerely hope he doesn’t want to talk,” Calinnia smiled wickedly. “The last thing I want him to do is talk.”


In spite of her friend’s optimism, Calinnia expected very little from tonight’s encounter. She’d dressed in a loose fitting robe and skirt made from several layers of pleated, almost transparent silk. Something Jula had chosen for her from Calinnia’s massive wardrobe. The combination was both demure and enticing enough to “blow Hubba’s mind by just looking at you,” Jula had said. It was a nice compliment but Calinnia hoped it wasn’t too accurate. After all, it would be rather nice if the mind blowing part was mutual.

Who was this guy anyway? Calinnia had spent the better part of the afternoon searching through the palace archives and there was no mention of Sir Ali Hubba-Wubba and his evil octuplets. She couldn’t help wondering if Jula had made this up just to keep Alfie’s little head on. The thought of penistrating Alfie made Calinnia feel a little sad, but she’d make the sacrifice if she had to—for the good of Coffeetimeland.

“Here is your platter, your eminence.” Slayham placed the golden tray on a chest at the foot of her bed, next to the long ottoman. “The wine is especially treated with herbs to delay a man and improve his prowess. And the fruits, as you know, are prepared with your pleasure in mind.”

“Thank you, Slayham, you may go now.” The eunuch had thoughtfully provided the tray of supplements for every night that her potential husbands called on her. Eating fruit and and drinking wine with a subtle lemon liquor had proven to be an excellent ice breaker, as well as a perfect method for getting them both into the right mood.

“You don’t wish me to stay around while your…candidate arrives, your eminence?”

That was loyalty for you, Calinnia decided, instead of seeking his room and sleeping for the night, Slayham would stay close by to ensure nothing untoward would happen to her.

“Not at all.” She smiled at him. “Going by the other’s performances the only threat to my life is likely to be assassination by boredom. You may leave me now.”

“Very well, your eminence.” Slayham bowed. “As usual, if you require assistance, two of my men will be on guard outside your door.” With that the eunuch bowed one more time and left, closing the huge double doors behind him.

And just where in Coffeetimeland was that darn suitor?

“They leave us alone, at last.”

The soft male timbre had her turning to face the window just as a cloaked finger stepped over the sill and slipped into the room. His face was half covered with a cloth, in the style of the desert nomads. It was made from a fine red silk that matched the blues and deep greens of his baggy ankle tied slacks and flowing shirt. The hood of a deep blue cloak was tied tightly around his head, almost completely hiding his rich, black hair. The lamp and torch light lit his face and made it glow like amber.

Calinnia forced herself to close her mouth. Surely he wasn’t stupid enough to climb a thousand feet just to impress her. Then again, he’d managed to impress her quite nicely, she just decided not to show it. She definitely refused to recognize the strange feelings his mode of appearing set in her. Her stomach had started to move like a flock of butterflies, her groin had heated to a searing temperature in moments and her nipples had hardened in a manner she’d only seen when pleasuring herself.

He looked down at her breasts. She followed his gaze and blushed when she realized the treacherous nubs were clearly showing through the sheer silk.

“You look pleased to see me,” he said, walking silently, almost catlike, across the floor. “That bodes well for an evening of insatiable lust.”

“I, who?” Calinnia paused, pulling her thoughts together. “Who said you had permission to enter this room? These are my private chambers and only those who are invited may visit. Leave now and, if you wish to re-enter, do so under the proper circumstances.”

Calinnia set her lips into a firm line, proud that she’d taken back control of the situation.

“Of course I’d like to re-enter,” he told her, stepping so close she could smell his maleness, and the faint hint of coriander scrub. “But in order to do that I need to gain entry in the first place.”

Stunned, Cilannia looked up, then blushed as she finally figured out his meaning. Never before had a man so easily distracted her.

“These things have rules and rituals,” she stammed. “We must—“

Her final words vanished as he gently held her chin and pressed his lips to hers. It seemed like a chaste kiss. A small peck of affection, easily accepted and ignored.

If that was the case, why was she now swimming in a mire of heat laden thoughts? Why did her breasts tingle and her sex ache from such a meaningless kiss?

Calinnia couldn’t answer her own question. Instead she sat, no, fell weakly onto the nearest seat. Sir Hubba, if this was indeed the man, had somehow sapped all her strength from her with a simple kiss. The concept scared her, yet to her own chagrin, it thrilled her too.

She fumbled with the cushion of the long, thin ottoman she sat on for support and her hand nudged the platter Slayham had set on the chest beside it. Yes, food and wine. They would be good tools for distraction.

“Have some wine,” she said, nearly knocking over the goblet in her haste to pour it. “And some sweetmeats. Slayham is perfection in his culinary skills.”

“No.” Hubba caught her hand before she could taste the sweet rose-flavored gelatin. “I have sworn by all my gods, and by the gods of all my ancestors that neither of us shall drink a drop, nor swallow a crumb this night until all of your lustful desires are sated.”

Calinnia felt herself nearly gasping for breath. Something in his tone promised passion beyond her richest dreams. And to swear before the gods… “All your gods?”

“All my gods and all the gods of my ancestors,” he answered, gently taking the sweetmeat from her hand and replacing it on the platter.

His other hand lingered on hers before tracing a delicate path down her arm to where the fabric of her robe began. His touch left a trail of goosebumps and a cooling sting of desire. Calinnia wondered, if she’d been naked, where his fingers might have gone.

“That’s a powerful oath, the curses you will suffer when you fail to make it—“

“If I fail to show you the true heavens of paradise then I will consider my life forfeit.”

Calinnia looked up at him, a desperate longing swept through her. Could this man truly give what he promised? What she dearly needed? She blinked as he untied the rope belt from his waist, his shirt fell open revealing his muscled chest, and her mouth watered. Could all of him look like this—a morsel more tempting than Slayham’s sweetmeat?

“You risk much,” she warned him. “All I need to do is break my fast and your oath will be shattered.”

In spite of her threat Calinnia felt no desire to carry it through and nibble on the food. She was drawn instead to his dark brown gaze and a hundred, no, millions of unfulfilled imaginings hidden behind his eyes.

“If only your words could be true.”

Calinnia’s feelings came out as a sigh which he quickly bewitched away from her. Kneeling before her, bringing his face level to her’s he kissed her forehead tenderly, brushed softened lips against each eye, then nibbled and supped on her mouth. Each touch, each breath, releasing more sensation than the last. When he dipped his face lower and began to kiss her neck Calinnia felt so weakened that she felt, without his firm hold on her arms, she would melt and slither away like well-water on parched land.

“My words will be true,” he promised her, lifting her arms languidly above her head he stood and kissed her wrists. “For I alone am master of my fate. Then he began to lick her trembling pulse points in her wrists, each intimate motion striking hard at the core of her sex, making her clitoris shiver in time with his tongue strokes. Bemused, fuddled by the strong and strange emotions boiling within her she didn’t notice his silken belt—until her wrists were tied together.

Startled, she jolted backwards on the ottoman, nearly falling over.

“What? How dare you? No one makes a prisoner of the Sultana of Coffeetimeland.”

“Prisoner? Oh no, the only gaoler in this chamber is yourself, your eminence. You are guilty of enslaving your passions for far too many seasons. I’m merely here to bind the gaoler and set your desires free.”

“Hmphh.” Calinnia snorted. Irritated but somehow not yet afraid of her captor, she struggled with the tight bindings only to find herself irrevocably joined at the wrists. That knowledge, in his presence, caused her body to betray her more. It reveled in it’s helplessness until she felt her breasts grow softer as her nipples hardened and lower lips swelled in welcome. “Well, Sir Hubba, your ungallant behavior has now outstayed its welcome, you may go.”

Her body may be helpless, and Calinnia cursed it to the twentieth realm of demons for that, but she definitely wasn’t.

“Guards! Guards! Arrest this fool, take him to the dungeons,” she shouted.

Like the idiot he was Hubba stood back smiling, then carefully removed his cloak and shirt. His skin gleamed, as if freshly oiled, and Calinnia found herself licking her lips, longing to taste him. This was a foolishness in herself.

“Guards! Come here! Else suffer the torture of a thousand racks!”

Hubba merely grinned at her struggles.

“A well placed purse of gold, a skin of drugged wine, and my beloved octuplet brothers go a long way to ensuring a quiet night alone, don’t you think?”

A cold feeling of dread passed through Calinnia as she reasoned out the meaning of his words.

“You have drugged and imprisoned my personal guard?” His smile answered her rhetorical question. “You are certainly no knight of Coffeetimeland to do such a treacherous deed.”

With a firm touch on her shoulder Hubba tipped her backwards until she was stretched out upon the ottoman.

“N, no!” Calinnia gasped, guessing his intentions and struggling and kicking wildly. All to no avail. His firm touch, teasingly brushing her breasts as he pressed down on her sternum, pinned her to the soft cushions until her hands were bound to the ottoman’s legs. Breathless she lay there, her head tilted back, like her arms, over the edge of the ottoman. As he moved to tie her legs to the legs of the seat she struggled again.

Her struggles were for naught as he tied each of her ankles to the other legs of the couch. Leaving her bottom hanging over the edge of the cushion, her legs spread wide and her soaking wet sex exposed to whatever tortures Hubba planned for her.

“Release me you villain,” Calinnia almost begged. Her helplessness sweetened the fire in her groin and her need to be taken by this cruel, handsome stranger. “Please,” she added.

“Oh, I am indeed one of your knights,” Hubba told her as he pulled an ostrich feather from a display on her throne. “One of your neglected knights.”

He dragged it evilly across her breasts. The stiff and soft filaments set off a thousand needles of desire in her hard, sensitive nipples. Each fiery dart shooting straight to her clit and making her squirm, most unseemly, with her need.

“For six months I’ve been fighting off Abanar’s raiders, protecting Avengart with barely enough resources while you’ve been here pleasuring yourself in your bath’s, pools and boudoirs. I’ve come now, and it’s time for my payment.”

He knelt down and Calinnia fought to raise her head to watch his movements then gave up trying. She was too firmly tied down. She gasped as his hot mouth encircled her nipple, his teeth nibbling her. Yet instead of pain, sharp flares of overwhelming lust rocketed through her. She struggled in her bonds, trying to rub her sensation seeking clit against anything that could grant her release.

“My knights,” she gulped the words between blasts of pleasure. “They will see my guards missing. They will come to my aid.”

Hubba lifted his head. The sudden loss of his torment bringing another torture to her.

“Which of your knights would come within a hundred yards of your rooms?” he asked. “Aren’t they all afraid of Mildred and what you have her do to them?”

“No,” Calinnia whispered, uncertain if the tears forming in her eyes were for the infidelity of her knights, or for the loss of his mouth exploring her body. “They will come, they love me as their Sultana.” Yet she knew he was right. They feared her, they would never dare come to her rooms. Not now.

His hand, abandoning the feather, slipped down her stomach and cradled her sex.

“No!” Calinnia couldn’t avoid arching her back as his finger slipped between her slick lips and brushed, oh so lightly, against her clit.

“No?” Hubba mimicked her words. “Your voice cries no, and your body screams, yes! Isn’t that so, your eminence?”

“No! Yes! I don’t know! By the Gods I beg you to release me.” Calinnia fought against the rising tide of orgasm building in her. How could her body betray her like this? Why couldn’t she resist the arrogance of this, this, man?

“Release yourself,” Hubba leaned over and whispered in her ear. His finger circled her swollen nub as she rocked and swayed against her bondage. Anything to get away from the intense pleasure he was given. “Allow yourself this release.”

Hubba’s whispered words warmed the sensitive flesh of her neck and down towards her breast. When his kisses along her skin settled warmly around her nipple it felt like a lightning burst struck between his mouth and finger. She screamed, struggling, arching away from the ottoman, as wave after wave of orgasm fled through her. Sensations so much stronger than she’d ever achieved alone.

Hubba didn’t cease until she flopped, exhausted and gasping for breath, onto the soft cushioned top. Until she no longer had strength to fight against his touch.

She sighed when he removed his hand and mouth. Drowsy, fully relaxed for the first time since her father had died, she sighed. Sighed for the ignominy of succumbing to her lusts, and sighed for the lost of his touch. Sleep would be an easy burden for her now, sleep to make up for all those sleepless nights.

“Not yet, your eminence.” Hubba had guessed her thoughts and trailed a finger from her chin to her ankle, leaving a trail of butterfly sensations tickling her skin.

Reaching for his discarded robe he pulled a long thick object from a hidden pocket. Calinnia gasped, instantly guessing it’s purpose. “Surely not,” she begged. “It would never fit.”

The knight Hubba, stroked the object lovingly as he gazed at her, measuring her groin and her honey pot of pleasure with his eyes.

“I had my gemsmith carve this from solid ruby,” he told her, licking his lips in obvious anticipation of what was to come. “It will fit you. As will this.”

With a casual flick of his hand his loose silken pants fell away revealing his nakedness. Calinnia swallowed. “But it’s huge, you’re even bigger than... You will…”

“Satisfy you more than your heart desires,” Hubba smiled, silencing her complaints with a gentle touch to her lips. “Give me just one more hour,” he added. “And you’ll be so deeply fulfilled you’ll wonder if you’ll ever be satisfied this much again.”

Calinnia’s heart tripped with an excited cantrip. But she couldn’t let him win. He’d forced his way in, harmed or disabled her guards. She had to deal with him, fatally if need be, before he could bewitch her more.

“Release me,” she cooed softly. “Let me feel your shoulders, your back, your arms as you thrust within me, bringing me to perfection.”

She saw his eyes flash, and his fingers reach towards her bonds. Then a darker smile eased across his face.

“Ah, your eminence. Not that I’d admit it so, but I don’t trust you yet. Only when you’ve felt the full force of the passion I’ll ignite within you, will you truly know how possessive my love can be.”

Cursing in her mind Calinnia tried to stop the effect of his words. The way her nipples hardened, and her sex blossomed with it’s own special love oil. Betrayed by her knights, her body, and the way Hubba’s voice seduced her, betrayed by her mind. She said no more, instead fixing her thoughts and vision on the marble walls. Willing her body to ignore his touch, and the arrogance, arousing chuckle he gave.

When his hot tongue parted her lips and scoured over her sensitive clit, it felt like she’d been electrified. Leaping against the binding ropes she tore, involuntarily, against the ottoman trying to force herself both into and away from the marauding kiss. The attack of her tender regions continued and she heard her own moans of delight echoing back to her from the sheer, old walls.

Was it morning yet? Would the day not break and give her respite from this treacherous, wonderful, scum.

She whimpered as she neared her peak, half-terrified of the powerful feelings as Hubba, Godlike and handsome, edged her closer and closer.
Then stopped.

“No! Don’t stop! Don’t stop!”

Futilely she wriggled and shifted, trying to force some friction between her open thighs. Anything that might take her over the edge.

Suddenly she felt the ties around her hand loosen. She snatched her hands down, eager to finish Hubba’s work.

“Not yet,” he grinned, capturing her wrists in one of his hands. “We need to finish this on the bed.”

Not trusting herself to say anything coherent Calinnia said nothing. She couldn’t avoid making small grunts and whines though, as Hubba quickly severed the ties on her ankles with a knife, brushing across her mons several times as he did. Then holding her legs apart with a strategically placed elbow he carried her to the bed, laying her gently on the soft feathered mattress.

Calinnia pulled against him attempting, half-heartedly, to escape. Not that she wanted escape any more—at least not until Hubba had quenched the fire between her legs.

Still holding her wrists together and kneeling between her legs, Hubba took the ruby dildo and placed it between her breasts. Calinnia gasped as the glowing gem pulsed with warmth and chill.

“Do you want it inside you?” Hubba teased, nipping at her breasts between his words. “Do you want it to fill you?”

Calinnia wanted to curse at him, demand he take the tempting plaything out of her sight. “Yes,” she told him, her body’s demands weakening her resolve. “Yes, fill me, take me.” She found herself begging.

Above her Hubba smiled an annoying grin, the smile of the victor, as he slid the ruby slowly down her body, Calinnia felt like screaming as his casual pace. Couldn’t he see how desperate she was. She felt the cool, pulsing, stone brush against the tight curls of her pubic hair. Gritting her teeth, her breath came in short, harsh, pants as Hubba stroked the toy in circles around her pubes and open lips, teasingly brushing her sex and avoiding the chaos of sensation that gathered in her clit.

“Are you ready?” Hubba asked, his voice now sounding stressed with his own, barely contained desire.

“Just do it!” Calinnia demanded.

“Yes.” Hubba agreed, slipping the gem slowly into her, fast enough to bring her closer, yet not enough to make her come.

“By the Gods, Hubba. I’ll have you castrated for this!” Calinnia cursed. Then held her breath as Hubba maneuvered closer. A fierce panic heightened her arousal “No! It will be… Aaaah!”

As Hubba entered her, his cock sliding easily in next to the ruby dildo, her sex stretched with a moment of pain, then her body spasmed as the apocalypse burst through her soul. Somewhere in the dizzying throb of a super orgasm she could feel Hubba’s few thrusts before he spent himself inside her. Yet it was from a distance that she felt it. Her mind, her whole being, was caught in a maestrom of pleasure so deep it twined soul and body, fusing them into a single being of lust, love and longing.

Hubba had made her his, and she could no longer refuse.

Allowing herself to relax and sink into the bed she wrapped her arms about his body, feeling the fine layer of hair on his back as his weight lay on top of her. She stroked, enjoying the feel of him as he breathed heavily into her neck. So this was how it felt to be loved. It was a feeling she could easily get used to.

“What is your command, Master.”

Calinnia screamed at the deep bass voice. Opening her eyes she saw a rather tall looking man looking at them from beside the bed. Well, she thought it might have been a man. Further examination, things like his bright blue skin and the fact he had no legs but rather the lower half of his body thinned out and curled into a cute hairlick. His skin glistened in the lamplight, and beyond his figure the silver light of the moon cast about him like a halo.

Hubba looked up, apparently unsurprised by their sudden guest, then sat up. Calinnia, finding herself naked before the strange being, squealed again and quickly covered herself with the comforter.

“Ah, genie.” Hubba nodded to the creature. “Allow me to introduce the Sultana of Coffeetimeland.”

“Your eminence.” The genie bowed so low that its head bobbed quickly below the edge of the bed. “You must be the most gracious one who deigned to use my dildo and releasing me. For that I thank you.”

“Dildo?“ Calinnia asked, somehow feeling she was missing the point.

“Uhm,” Hubba explained, looking somewhat sheepfaced. “Izzacuminyu is the genie of the ruby dildo. He is summoned when the dildo is used in a…certain way. I adapted it a little so we could both give him commands.”

“A genie in a dildo?” Calinnia looked at the ruby rod. It certainly had lost some of that pulsing sparkle it had a little while ago. Still, she studied the magical entity with interest. She could give it commands? Calinnia knew she could easily find some use for it—and the dildo.

“Quickly,” Hubba stood, throwing his robe about him and drawing on his pants. “Dress. We must hurry if we are to save Coffeetimeland from Abanar’s clutches.”

“Abanar?” Calinnia shot back at him as she went to her wardrobe. She pulled out a deep crimson dress and underthings, if there was to be war none would see her bleed. “Abanar is our ally, are you crazy?”

“Hazba, Selenti,” Hubba clapped his hands sharply and two figures open her chamber door and sped in.

Calinnia stared, aside from looking slightly younger, the black robed youths were the spitting image of Hubba.

“Yes, brother?” One of them asked, neither of them paying much attention to the blue creature floating nearby.

“Bring Slayham here,” he told them, “and mobilize the knights and the militia for war, my sources tell me Abanar will attack with the dawn.”

“Brother!” The two men did a strange across the chest salute, then rushed out of the door.

“Genie,” Hubba commanded. “Stay around but make yourself unseen until I call you. I wish to surprise our loyal servant with your presence.”

“As you wish, Master.” The genie obeyed by fading into a threadbare smoke then vanishing.

“What’s this rubbish you’re doing about Abanar. He’s the only one that’s supported me since my father’s death.”

“Your father’s murder,” Hubba corrected. “Only a fool would be blind to his assassination.”

Angered beyond control Calinnia slapped his face. Hubba barely winced.

“He was not murdered,” she told him. “Slayham was with my father at all times, his loyalty is beyond question.”

“We shall see,” Hubba answered enigmatically, then bent to the platter Slayham had left, carefully examining the fruits.

It was only a few moments later that Hubba’s brothers brought her servant in. The eunuch was plainly shaken by his time in the dungeons.

“This man claims you to be disloyal,” Calinnia snapped at Slayham. “That you conspired to my father’s murder.”

Shocked Slayham began to shake violently. “Lies, your eminence, all lies. I’m as loyal as your favorite dog.”

Slayham winced as Hubba tossed him an apple. It hit the eunuch mid-chest and dropped to the floor. “Eat it,” Hubba said.

Slayham paled.

Calinnia watched, puzzled as the eunuch refused such a simple order. “Eat it,” she said, wondering if the slave was refusing simply because Hubba was his captor.

Slayham paled even more, nervous eyes flickering between her and Hubba. Hubba picked up an orange from the platter, sniffed.

“It’s maidsbane isn’t it?” he said. “Enough to last all night and prevent your Sultana from reaching her ultimate pleasure with a man.”

Slayham shook his head wildly, as if in disbelief.

Hubba opened the skin of wine, took a sip then spat the liquid out. “Slippersease. One glass of this and a man will spend his seed from a mere touch to his cock.” He turned to Slayham. “You set up everything so all the knights would fail, didn’t you?” Hubba accused him. “Why would you do that?”

“You Eminence! Why would you let this dog make up such filthy lies about me?”

Calinnia, stunned, looked between them both. Slayham couldn’t have been that disloyal could he. And yet the way the knights had acted, couldn’t hold themselves back. And the effort she’d needed for her own orgasm.

“Izzacuminyu.” Hubba called.

The blue giant appeared beside the nervous eunuch, the shock sending the slave to his knees, whimpering.

“The truth, Izzacuminyu, make him tell us the truth.”

Izzacuminyu hummed a catchy little ditty and Slayham’s eyes grew wide. His mouth worked noiselessly, trying to say the words he didn’t want to speak.

“I drugged the fruits,” the slave finally admitted. His eyes saying he spoke without volition. “And the wine. Abanar has been paying all us eunuchs to do so.”

Calinnia sat, the import of Slayham’s admission hitting her hard. “But why?"

“Why, your eminence,” Slayham sounded bitter. “It was your father that made us into this state. Why not should we do the same for your knights. Abanar promised us seats of power when he’d taken over your lands.”

“Abanar is paying you?” Calinnia felt her heart would break with such deep betrayal. “And my father, you killed him too?”

“And with great pleasure.” Slayham looked terrified at his admission.

“Enough,” Calinnia covered her ears with her hands, then looked to Hubba’s brothers. “Take this filth to Mildred, let her play with him.”

As the eunuch was dragged off by the guards she could see Slayham try to scream, all she heard was silence.

“Those poor knights,” she looked at Hubba, guilt flowing through her veins. “I’ve ruined them.”

“No,” Hubba corrected gently, pulling her softly against his chest. “Izzacuminyu, you will undo the damage to her men, and enhance them a little.” Hubba smiled wickedly at his lover. “We should compensate them for their slight inconvenience.”

Calinnia laughed, pressing herself closer against her lover. The hard heat of his cock pressing through their clothes and quickening her blood.

“I suppose now, you need to do battle and return to your home.”

“Ah, little princess, if only it were that easy.”

“Oh, yes.” Calinnia nodded in understanding. She felt a wash of disappointment flow over her. “You need me to use the ruby dildo.”

“I could find any number of slaves to work the dildo,” Hubba mumbled, nuzzling kisses into her hair and giving her a wonderfully gooey feeling inside. “But I’d never find another woman I could love as much as I do you.”

Calinnia’s heart stopped for a moment. She pushed back, looked Hubba in the eyes.

“You, love me?”

His eyes burned with a seriousness far different from his usual arrogance.
“From the moment I stepped through your window, I fell in love.” He kissed her forehead, her nose, then swamped her thoughts with the heat of his kiss. A slow, gentle kiss.

Breathless she broke away long enough to stammer. “I love you too.” Then was drawn again into this arms and a kiss that was hungry and demanding. She found herself rubbing her hand over his erection, enjoying the firm, hard shape.

Hubba broke them away this time. As he gazed she felt like he was feasting on her. She glimpsed the moon through the window.

“It’s another two hours until dawn,” she mumbled, gripping his erection through his pants and brushing her lips against his.

Hubba smiled, kissed her. “My brothers and your knights won’t be needing me for a little while,” he agreed, as she led him to the bed.

The end.

And so it was that Sir Ali Hubba Wubba and his eight evil octuplets became rulers of Coffeetimeland. Sultana Calinnia became his lovely wife and bore him many sons and daughters. Abanar and his army were defeated shortly after dawn, and with the Genie’s aid Romancedivaland as conquered in a week. Slayham and his fellow traitors met their fates at the lovely hands of Mildred. So too, did Ababar, though the deposed Sultan was permitted to live it was rumored her was never truly the same man ever again.

That my dear friend is the History of Coffeetimeland, and the reason why Mildred and the eight evil octuplets should never be kidnapped or locked up again. They are really heroes and heroines out to save you. Heroes and heroines, I tell you!