Sex Stories by Letter ] [ Sex Story of the Week ] [ Story Forums ] [ Adult Personals ]
Sex Toys & Videos ] [ More Sex Stories ] [ Submit Stories ] [ Links ] [ Webmasters ]
Archived Sex Stories



THE PRINCE FROM THE MIRROR {b/F, b/F first experiences By Typoman

Edited by dw Do not repost this story without my header. Do not remove
my name from this story.


My stories contain graphic descriptions of sexual encounters. Various
ages from adult to children may be described in sexual acts, either willing
or coerced. If you are not of legal age to read adult material, close this
file. If you are offended, or even think that you might be offended by
reading material such as this then go find something else to read. By
continuing to read this material, you have agreed that you are of legal age
and material such as this is legal to have in your possession.

A word about fantasy: My stories are just that, a FANTASY! They might
contain a thread of an old childhood memory, or just be the brainchild of
my fertile imagination. If you like to read stories like mine then more
power to you! However, if you find yourself seriously contemplating
abusing an innocent minor, then go seek help. Our children are our future.
Don't start (or continue) the cycle of sexual abuse. Enough said, on with
the tale.

I am Alain, king of the Sagana. The time has come to set into writing
the history of my rise into power as I feel my final seasons approaching. I
have witnessed 97 summers and now the strength of my seed is diminishing. I
have heard that men of my clan have enjoyed half again the span of life as
I have so far, but they are from another plane. My friends and the first
three generations of my children have succumbed to either treachery or war.
Some have fallen to the weariness of the years and have passed into the
next world. They all await my arrival and are calling me from my dreams.

Why do I age this way since the men of my clan do not? I must sadly say
that I am simply tired of this world and feel the call of my companions and
children who have passed so many seasons ago.

On the fourth attempt to take my throne, the only link to my real
ancestors was shattered. For 43 summers I have been without the advice and
companionship of my father's race. The mirror through which my father passed into this world and sired me is no more.

It is a long tale of which must be told from the beginning, my beginning
you might say in order to fully understand and appreciate its validity.
Until now, very few of my advisors and friends (yes, even a king can be
blessed with friends) have heard this tale. Of the few that I trusted
enough to relate my true nature, even fewer believed in my truthfulness.

My mother was from this plane. She was a queen and blessed with great
beauty and wits. Of the two, her wit and bravery is what kept her alive.
Later in life, her wits brought our family to power. My father, or perhaps
I should say stepfather by way of marriage, sired no children of his own.
They were married to keep the taint of my mother's loss of virginity and
subsequent pregnancy away from her lineage.

At the tender age of thirteen, my mother came into possession of the
mirror, which both blessed and cursed our family. My grandfather Brian,
the grand duke of Sagana, received the gift of the mirror from Artemus, the
king, in gratitude for his loyal service to the realm. The mirror was a
wedding present to my grandfather's third bride Sylvia. When its
magnificence was unveiled, the entire court gasped and shrank away in fear
at the strange object in front of them. It seemed, or so they thought to
steal part of the person's soul in order to duplicate the image of whoever
stood in front of it. Sylvia, being a delicate woman of little sense
wailed in fear and refused to even go near the mirror. That refusal of the
king's gift caused the first quarrel between the newlyweds that almost
annulled their marriage.

My grandfather dared not refuse this gift in fear of insulting Artemus
and hence evoking his royal displeasure. The matter was settled when my
mother Brianna asked that she might keep it for her dowry. That is how the
mirror came into her bedchamber. She felt a great attraction to the
mirror, which was only slightly her own vanity. She told me once in strict
confidence that the mirror made her loins tingle when she first stepped in
front of it. She also appreciated its uniqueness.

This decision to have it as her own started the chain of events that
brought me into the world, an infant male with light hair at the time in a
world of dark and brown haired people.

When my mother realized that keeping the secret of my true lineage from
me would do me more harm than good, she made the decision to tell me. This
was a decision she had hoped to put off until I reached the customary age
of majority. Normally this would be fifteen for males of this kingdom,
however the arrival of my puberty and ability to produce seed at the age of
seven forced her to share the secret that only my mother, grandfather and
his chief advisor knew.

My stepfather was told an abridged tale of my mother's pregnancy at the
start of their marriage negotiations. The idea that someone could pass
into this world by way of my mother's mirror would have marked my family as
moon-touched and henceforth only worthy of private ridicule and ostracized
our family. In other words the complete truth would have caused great harm
to my family's proud heritage.

Both families received a bargain by the betrothal of my mother. My
stepfather's family had a direct although distant line to the throne.
Artenal, my stepfather, agreed to claim me as his heir, should I be born a
male. His family's wealth had diminished through weak and extravagant
heirs living too high for the income of their estate. Previous earls had
been forced into selling off a majority of their land holdings when the
default of debts had forced their creditors to petition the king.

My mother's dowry was immense and would add badly needed lands and
wealth to the estate of her betrothed. Mother's family held great
prestige, although not tied to the royal line for many generations.

Ever since the rift between the two families occurred over forty
generations in the past, no member on either side had been willing or able
to rejoin them by marriage. The rift was a direct result from the Royal
intervention. My mother's forbears held a large amount of the notes of

My stepfather's family has in the last three generations stabilized
their holdings and is now better managed. My mother's side of the family had grown considerably in fortune and favor since the rift occurred and has
an income almost equal to that of the king himself.

Arranged marriages are designed for the good of both families and not
for love. Although many times love has developed from these ties, it was
certainly not the case between Brianna my mother and Artenal my stepfather.
For three years they battled each other as husband and wife in the same
household. Finally my mother and stepfather agreed that peace of mind was
better than appearances and so Artenal moved his residence to another
castle well within the boundaries of his pre-marital estate. It seems
ironic to me now that my beautiful mother eventually held on to her entire
dowry and won the title of King for her estranged husband years later.
This royal title forced them to live together once again, but as king and


I apologize for the lengthy ramblings of an old man about his family whose value to the tale of my life is only to better equip the reader to
understand my origin. I intended to start my autobiography from the
recollections of earliest childhood. My mother's story will be told when I
reach the time of my life when she relayed it to me. I fear that the
premature telling might lessen the import of the time before I learned the
truth. These earliest memories are very likely enhanced by others who have
told me what I had done or happened to me as a toddler. They naturally
blend with my real memory and so cannot be separated.

My earliest recollection is playing underneath an enormous tree in the
courtyard of my childhood home. Several women were smiling and watching me
as I tried to climb upon the back of the new wooden rocking horse that had
been given me. "Teak", my mother's favorite dog seemed to always be at me
side and gladly took on the duty of guarding her master's new child. I've
even been told that Teak stood beside me and bore the pain of having
handfuls of her fur pulled on as I used her to pull myself up on unsteady
feet. She even would take small steps to encourage me to take a step, all
the while my little fingers gripped her fur. mother even told me once that
Teak's expression of pain was as close to a human wince as any canine could

Teak was not comfortable with the new wooden toy that had captured my
interest, especially when I started to climb upon it. The dog finally
decided that I had gone far enough and grabbed the only thing she could to
pull me away, my diaper. I howled in frustration that something was
holding me back from climbing. I didn't know that Teak had a firm grip on
the back of my diaper until I fell back and felt her cold nose against my
butt. Apparently she had pulled my diaper almost half way off when she
pulled me away from the rocking horse. At that time I had very few words
in my vocabulary, NO! Was my favorite word and I used it as forcefully as
I could to my tormentor. Teak would not let go until she felt I was far
enough away from the object of my desire. She pulled one way while I
screamed in frustration and crawled the other way. All of a sudden, I was
free and jubilantly rose on unsteady feet and walked back to the horse.
Teak barked and ran in circles around me trying to stop me but she had torn
off the only piece of clothing I had on and didn't dare use her teeth on my
flesh. I heard a collective gasp from some of the ladies a few feet away
but that was of no concern to me. I was fulfilling my desire to climb upon
that wooden horse.

Teak had been right in her judgment of my abilities. I almost reached
the saddle and was trying to swing my foot over the top when it happened.
My other foot slipped, sending me to the ground. I scraped my knee and
between my legs in the process.

Normally, children would not be allowed to get themselves into harmful
situations like that, but being of high birth and the heir, I had to learn
the hard way as the generations before me had done. I grasped the place
that hurt the worse, (my male organ) and tottered over to my mother crying
out my misery.

I remember the perplexed look on mother's face and the way the other
ladies of the court gasped when I asked her to "kissa booboo". One lady
stifled a giggle, and a couple of others who were childless looked
mortified at my simple request that my mother make it better the way she
had done with all my hurts before. My mother being so very clever
distracted my attention away from my confused look and saved the more
modest ladies from further embarrassment. She picked me up and excused
herself to go inside to re-clothe me. I learned later that mother scandalized the court when she insisted on breast feeding me and keeping me
in clean diapers. I still had a wet nurse and nanny, but they had not a
lot to do at times.

Once inside, she sat me upon the table in my room and started to put a
fresh diaper on but my mood was not good so she tickled me. Tickling was a
favorite thing for me at that age and I squealed and kicked until my
spirits brightened. When she examined the scrape on my knee then between
my legs, I felt a strange warmth there and let out a sigh.

mother said, "Oh poor Alain! That mean old rocking horse scraped your

That new word immediately registered as a very important tidbit for my
fledgling vocabulary and I memorized it then repeated it to her.

"Kissa booboo mommy! Kissa booboo ballocks!"

She blushed, "Honey they're all better now. mommy doesn't need to kiss
that booboo."

"Mommy! Kissa booboo!"

"Mommy has something that will make the hurt all better honey. This
salve will make your booboos all better."

She reached down below the table and came up with a crock and set it
upon the table, then dipped her fingers inside and applied the salve to my
knee. I immediately knew that I would feel that wonderful new sensation
between my legs again soon and felt a stirring. I remember looking at my
mother's face as my first aroused state came upon me. Thinking back it
seemed that she was spending more time applying the salve to my knee,
avoiding the trap she had gotten herself into. My phallus was large even
as a toddler. mother told me later that it was at least three inches long
back then.

Of course, I was still very innocent and wanted equal attention to my
other booboo. I asked mother, "This booboo too mommy!" reaching down there
to show her as if she didn't know. mother decided that no harm could come
of touching her son there. After all I was injured and expected her to
make my hurt get better.

mother resigned herself to go ahead almost knowing back then that I had
taken on the sexual attributes of my father who had seduced a girl of high
character who was determined to stay a virgin until her marriage could be
arranged in the distant future. She dipped her hand back into the crock
and touched my ballocks, staying well away from my small turgid member
standing up and begging for attention. The feeling was so wonderful that I
relaxed immediately under the spell of my mother's magical touch. It was
over too much quickly for my expectations, but I didn't protest and allowed
myself to be diapered without a fuss. My behavior was very pleasant for
the next few hours. Something very special happened to me that day.

When it was time to put me to bed, mother told my nanny to be sure to
check my scrapes and salve them so I would not get an infection. Elsbeth,
my nanny, was a lot older than my mother's 16 years. I would guess her to
be about 25 if my memory serves me correctly. She was a good-looking
widow, whose husband had died while in the service of my grandfather. She
had a daughter who was a few years older than me at the time, I either
didn't notice Clarice her daughter or had not seen her because of the
difference in our ages and rank.

Elsbeth took me to my crib and undressed me to change my diaper and
inspect my wounds. My mother's words about the salve or my wounds had not
been heard by me, but I immediately recognized the crock as a bringer of
good feelings. Do not mistake my words and think I was a sexual being at
that early age, I simply knew that the crock meant pleasant feelings and
loved all things pleasant. Elsbeth was not as sparing with the salve as my
mother and took her time applying it to my ballocks. She giggled when I
cooed and relaxed in response to her ministrations. Elsbeth loved me
dearly and relished the time she was allowed to care for me, possibly
feeling guilty for not being allowed to fully earn her stipend. My mother as mentioned earlier defied tradition by caring for me most of the time.

Elsbeth smiled sweetly down to me, "Ah, so the young master likes it
when nanny makes your booboo better?"

"Esbef my booboo kissa bebber!"

"Well now look at what my little man has made. I do believe yourlittle
soldier wants a little salve too! He's at attention, just like a big boy's

I giggled when Elsbeth ran her finger down from the tip to my ballocks.
The sensitive head had appeared from under my sheath and glistened in the

The feeling was too good to ignore, I had to have more and struggled to
put words together to communicate my desire.

"Esbef my shoulder booboo bebber!"

She looked at with mischief in her eyes, "Tell Elsbeth what you want
Alain. I don't understand!"

I pointed to the pottery container beyond my reach and said "Cock!"

She let out a laugh, "You want this crock of salve honey? Where do you
want it? Show your nanny where!"

I reached down and batted at my tiny phallus and said, "Shoulder Esbef!
Cock my Shoulder! Be bebber!"

"Oh! You want me to put some salve on your soldier master Alain? TIf
your mommy saw me doing that she'll make me go away forever."

"No Esbef! mommy good mommy! Esbef good nanny!"

"Alain, I really like your soldier and would love to put salve on it as
long as you want me to, but your mommy would not like it if she knew I was
doing it. How about if we never never tell anyone about it?"

She added a bribe by lightly running her finger down the length of my
soldier and smiling when my muscles responded to her touch.

"Do you know what a secret is Alain?"

I respond my just looking at her.

"A secret is something only two people share. Like if I put this salve
on your hard little dickey!"

Elsbeth had a supply of the slick medicine ready in her fingers and
teased me with a sampling of what might be in store if I paid attention and
learned what she wanted of me.

"If you ask your mommy to put salve on your soldier like Esbef, she
would know and our secret would be gone. Your mommy would send me away
forever and someone like Gruenhilda would be your nanny!"

"Me no like Hilda! Hilda uggy! Hilda pank Lain's bottom!"

"Do you think you can keep a secret Alain? Don't ask anyone to put
salve on your soldier but Elsbeth?"

I nodded my head with wide expectant eyes. "Esbef sav shoulder Lain
pommis Esbef!"

"Very Well my little darling, Only Elsbeth can do this. You're my
little man now honey!

Elsbeth smiled down at me and took my underdeveloped manhood in her hand
and gently worked her magic. A sense of well being and pleasure gently
ebbed and flowed while she hummed nursery rhymes. I fell asleep while she
toyed with my juvenile plumbing.

It was my mother that came to me when I woke up in the morning. She was
still dressed in her nightclothes. I remember those clothes well. I've
seen material that is sheer and allows just a hint of the body that lies
beneath the cloth. Hers was not like that. It was pure white cloth,
probably cotton, which went all the way to her ankles. Sexy had not even
been a concept for me back then, but I remember the way her nipples would
stand out in the chill of the morning. mother had been trying to wean me
from breast-feeding for a while and I was resisting it with all my young will. The weaning would not have been a problem had I only one pair of
breasts to suckle from, but that was not the case. Being high born and
from a prosperous family, I had three women to suckle from. My mother of
course, and a wet nurse with large floppy dugs, then a woman whom I finally
learned the true identity of years later. Her name was Kayla. My memory
of her is a little vague. She had bright red hair, which I had never
witnessed. She was very special, somehow I sensed that she loved me dearly
and took much satisfaction in my feeding upon her. My best recollection of
her is from a time earlier than the age of which I'm writing about now. I
remember a silvery place in a darkened room where my mother carried me in
her arms. I remember mother weeping and unwilling to release me, then a
gentle voice reassuring her. I look up into a very beautiful young face
and my mother's arms leaving. I pass through this silvery place and enter
a brightly-lit room. I had picked up my mother's agitation and calmed a
little at the soothing voice of the woman who eventually talked mother into
releasing me into her care. I cried in fear but I saw mother nearby
smiling and reassuring me, but her face showed agitation even though she
was smiling to me. The silvery wall attracted my attention and I stopped
my protest of being taken away from mother, but was still quite upset.
When Kayla took me through the silvery wall and into the bright room, all
my tension abated. A man was there and he was smiling greatly and talked
to me while Kayla bounced me in her arms. I was turned and guided to drink
from her bosom. The nectar of this young beautiful red haired woman made
my body feel different, stronger and more attuned to my mind as I wiggled
about (I didn't walk then, but shortly after). The man was allowed to hold
me and for some reason, I didn't protest. The only other man who could
hold me before this time was my grandfather. The man had bright reddish
hair also like the woman and I remember that he removed my diaper and
touched me all over, smiling and speaking in a strange tongue,

"Wabela kanekanu prost babu Kayla (This definitely is my son Kayla)"

His words I understood as well as my mother's language, which was very
slight. Maybe it was the cadence of his words, which seemed as natural to
me as the flow of my mother's. I remember the man carrying me to other
similar folk with fiery hair and their expressions of love and acceptance.
I remember my mother's happy tearful face as I was placed back into her

Kayla had fed me from her breast regularly after that first time and
even until the time of mother's attempts to wean me. When I cried out in
misunderstanding of being deprived of breast to suckle, Kayla would appear
at my crib very late in the night and sate my hunger. Kayla had abruptly
stopped my newly formed habit of using my teeth by pulling her breast from
my mouth and lightly striking my lips with her fingers and telling me to
stop in her own language which by then I had come to understand as well as
my own language.

Back to mother and the morning after Elsbeth applied the salve so
sweetly to my little soldier. It had been maybe a week since I had bitten
mother's nipple and she informed me that her breast was no longer available
to me. Kayla had appeared to me every night except that night and when my
mother bent down to talk to me I spied those wonderfully shaped glands of
hers with the pinkish tips beckoning me. I had tried to be demanding to
get what I wanted from my mother and that was losing its effectiveness with
her, as I grew older. The demanding tantrum throwing style that I had
employed so usefully with the servants definitely did not work with Kayla.
She was very loving and gentle when I chose to be and would not put up with
my tantrums at all if I couldn't get my way with her. Kayla would use
several tactics on me, the most effective method was her use of a bowl of
cold water to douse me with after she put my kicking and screaming self on
the floor.

I was so shocked the first time it happened. Kayla had a beautiful gold
pendant that she wore about her neck. I just loved to play with it and
would be allowed to do so whenever I wanted to. She would not however
allow me to take it off from around her neck. To make a long tale into a
short one, I was working up one of my best hissy fits when she pried the
golden chain from between my fingers and placed me on the ground and told
me, "A future king does not let his temper rule his mind Alain. I will not
allow this in my household!"

I switched into full tantrum mode and lay on my back, kicking my legs
and banging my fists on the floor beside me.

Kayla sighed and said, "Oh well, young prince. Decisions made in the
heat of anger always come to no good. You stay right there and give it
your best and I'll go and get your reward."

I recognized the word "reward" and even added a little more exuberance
to my fit. My eyes were closed when the cold water drenched me.
Fortunately I was not taking a breath or I fear I might have drowned. I
immediately stopped my fit and looked into Kayla's determined eyes. So far
in my young life I had never lost in a battle of wills because of the high,
ear-piercing pitch of my screams.

Kayla told me, "I'll be back when you've decided to calm down, Alain. I
still love you as much as ever but I have better things to do with my time
than listen to a spoiled willful child."

With that said, Kayla turned on her heels and left the room, closing the
door behind her.

I cried myself to sleep that first time and considered the battle of
wills a draw. I awoke when she picked me up from the floor. I was anxious
to get to the final round and went to take her pendant before I fed from
her breast. That was a huge tactical error on my part and I ended up
giving in to her as I sat crying my eyes out in a wet puddle in the middle
of the floor for the second time. I was still crying as I held out my arms
to her, but it was a cry of sorrow, not of anger. Kayla held her arms out
as she sat in the chair a little ways away from me. Neither one of us
would move to each other, another impasse.

"Little prince, the battle is over and you have wisely given me the day,
come on and get some love from Auntie Kayla."

I continued to cry and crawled over to Kayla's feet and looked up onto
her eyes, holding my arms out to her. She bent down and scooped my wet
little body up and hugged me tight, telling me how proud she was of me. I
was cold and also had wet myself besides the water drenching, Kayla took
off my diaper and opened her robe, then closed it around the two of us.
Although I'm sure it happened before, that is the first time I can recall
the feeling of naked flesh against flesh. It was not sexually arousing for
me yet, but it felt to me very good and right. Like that is the way bodies
are supposed to feel.

I fed hungrily from her breast after the exertion and loss of battle. I
bit her nipple for the first time and received the temporary loss of her
breast while Kayla made me look at her.

"Alain, Auntie Kayla doesn't want you to bite her! That's not the way
to treat me when I'm giving myself to you."

I had learned at least temporarily to obey her and drank my fill as

Now as I watched my mother's breasts from the gap in the front of her
gown I hungered for them. Not for just the milk I could get, but I desired
the closeness of nuzzling next to her skin that made me feel so good when I
was with Kayla.

mother reached for me and picked me up and held me close. "Well, it
looks like my baby boy slept the whole night without wetting himself! That
makes mommy so happy! Are you ready to go to the potty now like a big

I shook my head, "Uh huh mommy. Lain's a big boy now!"

"Yes you sure are! Wait till daddy hears about this. He'll be so proud
of you!"

"Daddy home mommy?"

"He sure is Alain! He's out hunting right now, but he wants to see you
when he gets back. Now let's get you to the potty and see if you can make
a big one for me!"

I got good hugs from mother after I had went to the privy and started to
pull the front of her night gown open to get to her breasts.

Brianna said, "Alain, you're a big boy now! You don't need mommy's milk

"Lain good mommy! No bite, pommis!"

I felt her nipples through the thin material of her nightgown. This was
not meant as a seduction, which I knew nothing of. I simply knew where my
mother's milk came from and was finding a way to get my mouth there. I
discovered the place where the front of her gown separated and pulled it
open. Mother's arms were occupied with holding me and she couldn't easily
stop my exploration without setting me down. I managed to expose one
breast and get my mouth on the nipple quick enough to keep her from
stopping me.

"Alain honey. Big boys don't feed on their mommy anymore!"

I placed my hand on her other nipple and didn't say anything. Kayla had
taught me to abandon the demanding and tantrum approach. I had tried to
use persuasion and found this approach worthy of exploration.

That was the last time I was allowed to feed upon my mother, although
Kayla visited me at night for a while more. Kayla, however little she
realized her affect, gave me the incentive to learn new words. I would
give her the credit for the early start of my sexual awakening. As an
adult, I learned that my true father's race matured very early.

This next part of this tale is of my awakening sexuality.


Sex stories by alphabet: a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z


© 2003 Sex Stories Archive. All rights reserved.