The Magic Dress

Roderick and the Princess are at it again

Image by Sunrise Forever on Pixabay

Roderick and the Princess first appeared in The Princess and the Spanking Now they are back and be warned, they are just as naughty.

She is standing wearing nothing but a pair of lacy knickers, a bra that pushes out her small but perfectly formed tits and, of course, a crown.

“Hey, nice dress,” She holds it up by the straps. “Where did you get it, Rodalot?”

“Oh, it was just lying around. And it’s Roderick, Milady”

“Rodalot by name, Rodalot by nature. And I’m a fucking Princess so I can call you what I like.” She steps into the dress. “Nice fit, but why won’t it do up?”

“It’s a magic dress. Try it without the knickers.”

“Oh, yes. Buy a woman a dress and hope to get her knickers off.”

“There’s easier ways than that to get your knickers off - and I didn’t buy it.”

She slips her knickers down and buttons up the dress. “Where did you get it? Fuck me, why is it lifting up?”

“I told you, it’s magic. A white witch gave it to me for, um, services rendered. If you fancy someone it lifts at the front and if you want a good spanking it lifts at the back. Plus she said that it intensifies your feelings. It makes you, as she put it… come like a train.”

“I love it,” she wriggles, ignoring the fact that the hem of the dress is lifted past her waist exposing one of the cutest shaven pussies in the kingdom. She spins around to show off her perfectly formed ass.

“I’m not sure about it lifting though. That’s not going to go down well with Daddy at the ball tonight. It will be OK when I’m talking to the dusty old Dukes and Earls but, as soon as those studs of knights arrive, I’m fucked.”

“I think that’s the idea.”

“Yes, but not in front of the King, you moron. One has to maintain a modicum of decorum.”

“I’d never have guessed.”

“Just remember your position, you cheeky bastard.”

“It’s usually about here, isn’t it?” I move closer, the erection she has generated is now protruding from my fly, and I slide it between her soft thighs.

She giggles, that sweet sexy little laugh that drives me mad.

“It’s up at the back as well. You’d better bend over,” I whisper in her ear. As always she smells of expensive perfume.

She pushes me a cocks length away. “Not until you tell me how to stop this dress floating up around my ears this evening.”

“You use this.” I hold up the bracelet. “As long as you wear it, the dress stays down.”

She reaches out to grab it, but I am too quick for her

“Uh, uh. Not until you’ve bent over.” I hide the bracelet behind my back.

“Oh, if I must.” She leans forward, her palms flat on the seat of a chair and I watch the beautiful peach of her bottom become even firmer.

This is probably not the time to mention that she has a thousand other dresses and could easily summon the guards to take the bracelet off me before chucking me out of the nearest window, even though we are on the fourth floor. I bring my hand down hard on her smooth, white cheek.

She squeals and her bottom wriggles. I smack the other cheek and then hop from one to the other in quick succession. The peach is rapidly ripening and she is starting to hiss as if she is coming to the boil.

“Fuck,” she squeals as a hard smack makes her firm behind ripple.

Happy to obey the command, I slide into her. She is hot and wet and slams against me so hard I almost stagger back. It would seem the dress is working. She slides forward, fingers are wrapping around my liquid coated cock, guiding it upward to press against her ass.

She wriggles, pushes against me, the puckered bud opens, and I am swallowed by a tight cave. She takes control again, sliding up and down my rod, faster and faster, her fingers playing a tune on her lips and clit.

“Oh, fuck,” she wails, repeating it like a mantra.

I am close to eruption, I can feel it surging up my column. Just before it explodes into her and my world goes dark, she slams herself onto me, the soft skin of her buttocks and thighs pressing against mine, her body quivering.

My eyes slowly refocus. We stand locked together for several seconds before I slide out of her.

“Bloody hell,” she gasps, falling face first onto the chair. “That’s some dress. Either that or you’ve been holding out on me, Rodalot.”

“Enjoy the ball.” I place the bracelet on the chair seat next to her and make a quick exit before someone comes to investigate the ruckus in her rooms.

***

The next morning, the Princess’ ladies in waiting smuggle me into her bedroom as I am keen to find out if the dress was admired and maybe reap a second reward. The Princess looks, well, fucked. She is sprawled across the bed wearing nothing but her crown and a contented smile.

“What happened?” I ask.

She pushes up onto her elbows and looks at me bleary eyed. “I went out on the balcony with a group of the knights and, well, the bracelet just fell off.” She sighs and flops back down on the pillows. “I don’t know if you’ve ever had a knight behind you and one in front whilst you’re wearing a magic dress and the others form a queue, but it’s an experience.”

“Can’t say I have,” I grin. “Although there have been a few nights I would like to put behind me.”

I leave; the Princess is snoring.

Rodalot, sorry, Roderick and the Princess first met in this story.

A big thank you to Nemo Omnis who suggested I read Scary Stories To Tell In the Dark, collected by Alvin Schwartz. This story was inspired by one of those tales but, other than it features a dress and a ball, it bares no further resemblance to the original .

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