Ruling a nation of - as contradictory as it sounds - spartan hippies was stressful. I was snapping at people, and getting in a bad mood. Yesterday I almost turned into a boggart in the middle of the court session because two stupid elves were fighting about the best way to cook some stupid fruit that grew on a stupid tree and wanted me to mediate their disagreement.

Basically, they were trying to press-gang me into becoming the judge for their cooking show.

Today was no better. I don't want to talk about it. I ended the court session and teleported to my room. I could move through trees and even teleport to another. When your whole palace is one huge tree, it led to that kind of thing.

I sent all my clothes to the storage, the best and fastest way to undress and sunk in my bathtub. Nenandil picked a hot water perk so she readied the tub for me. The fairy sat next to me on the tub and hummed some tune.

Which reminded me I sang my little pony song in front of the whole nation! It felt natural at the time. The truth was, I was shaped by my own body. Apricot was a cold-blood murderer that only cared about her family. Silverstreak was a wild spirit that hated the idea of getting the fairies enslaved. And now this. Alloralla. Sometimes I still don't understand myself.

Maybe I too was a spartan hippie.

Maybe I should explain why I call the elves "spartan hippies".

Starting with the fact that my idea of Spartans came from Frank Miller. The elves were a warrior culture. When on the field, facing enemies, they were stone-faced, brutal, and efficient. We didn't argue with each other. Each elf's mindset was one of trust in one another and swift death to the enemies of the People.

Like when I ordered Taeral to kill that conniving human noblewoman. I didn't need to talk twice. He knew what I wanted. And how I didn't regret having her killed. She was a threat, however minor. She had to die.

And then they had this cheerful, easygoing and silly demeanor when the threat of combat was far away. Our voices were just too damn beautiful to not be used. And our musical instinct is as developed as an orc's animosity. Bad analogy. Just thinking of orcs makes my blood boil.

I easily catch Nenandil's tune and hum along with her. Being able to sing two notes at the same time - although the breathing pattern has to be the same - is awesome.

I start to get dizzy and the fairy notices, "Time to leave your bath, Your Majesty. Come, I'll dry you."

I giggle and stand up. I could soak the water with the pseudopods but she wants to pamper me. I don a robe made of my own silk and walk to the bedroom.

NSFW:

In bed, I let my mind wander. My hand goes to scratch an itch near my crotch and I feel a wave of pleasant heat. Do I want to diddle the skittle? I think so. I let my finger slide around my slit. It feels good like someone was caressing my balls back on Earth. Maybe that's just what I need to unwind.

I rub over the slit but without parting the labia. My finger slides down and goes over the end of the slit. It goes over the far end and I yelp when it tingles.

The delicate skin was dry but this time I was prepared. It's not like I never had naughty thoughts, but I was afraid of experimenting. Maybe I'm just being an idiot, clinging to preconceptions from a past life too buried in the past. But I brewed a water-based gel. I mixed some starch and herbal essential oils in the lab one day. I reach for the flask in the drawer but Nenandil already had it for me. And no, the fairy is basically part of my soul so it is not weird to have her while I'm having fun with myself. Or trying to, at least.

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I lather my finger with the lube and she takes the flask from my hand. I go back to rubbing but this time things slide much better. Much. Better.

I move to the inside, rubbing the hood and the area between the inner lips. Like a skateboard halfpipe, the finger goes down on one side and upon the other. I feel everything warming up. I also feel a twitch inside. It's like the perineal muscles for kegel exercises but there's one more. It feels a bit sore and I move to rub it there.

I freeze when I feel a familiar sensation around my finger. It's wrapped in skin.

It slipped inside. But I don't feel the finger inside? Is this right? Maybe if I move it? I wiggle the finger a bit and I feel it moving inside.

I feel as if a dam had broken and I laugh. It was so silly and stupid. All this time I avoided touching it because I thought that the moment I put something inside my vagina I would lose my former identity.

I'd spent more than fifty Earth years as a female. More than my thirty-something as a male. Apricot had zero libido and I was grossed out because all my sisters and mother had to go through. I(t was easy to ignore that aspect of the human life entirely.

But now, as Alloralla, I'm a young healthy - and apparently, horny - elf. I move the finger in and out. Now that the proverbial cherry is popped - even though I felt no membrane - the anxiety was gone. Like doing your first bungee jump. You drop down and don't die, then your mind goes, "WTF just happened, let me separate the dread from the thrill and jump again."

I relaxed and resumed my self-exploration. My nipples felt tender and I tried squeezing them. I felt a shock. I had my nipples played on by some girlfriends back then but this was nothing like that. I felt warm down there and thought to try one of the toys in Sariandi's care package. In for a penny...

I took the smallest one. It looked like leather but I had no idea what it was. The slick and oily surface felt nice when I passed my finger on it and I was amazed as to how it wasn't greasy. I tried with a piece of cloth and it came out clean. Somehow it was enchanted to be slick without shedding any oils.

The second thing I noticed was that it was warm. After I held it for a bit, it warmed up to stay just a bit above my own body temperature. It was thinner than two of my fingers' width. It felt good just to hold it against my palm.

I rubbed the dildo against my hood. The warmth spread and I melted into it. It felt like a nice massage. I get aroused and I feel my clit pulse as I yearn for more. Soon I'm grinding the length of the sex toy against my inner folds, teasing the opening but not yet going inside. The back of my neck goes a bit numb as the slightly warm dildo spread its heat through my groin. I melt into pleasure.

Free of my preconceptions and some silly boundaries, I give in. I press the tip of the dildo against my opening and quiver as it slides inside. I feel every inch of it entering and filling my vagina. I felt no pain whatsoever. With one hand I start to move the toy back and forth while the other works on the hood.

I felt the tip of my swollen clit popping out of the hood and I played with it back and forth, to and fro, and going around it. Faster, faster, and suddenly it came. It's been so long I'd forgotten if not for the fact that all my previous lives' memories are seared into my soul. If I had to compare, orgasming as a female felt like being slapped instead of punched. I came but the sensation didn't build up from nothing or vanished right after. There wasn't no pressure to ejaculate either but my muscles pumped all the same. I could feel my pulsing vagina fighting to wrest control over the warm toy from my hand.

I don't feel that pain from continued stimulation that made me stop stimulating my cock back when I had one. Instead, I keep going, the burning sensation and the electrical current running all over my body going on and on. It felt less intense but the prolonged sensations were more than adequate compensation.

It goes on and tapers down. I let go of the toy and it plops down on the bed. I hold my pussy feeling it pulse with the aftershocks. With my eyes closed, I keep reliving the feeling and fall asleep, relaxed.

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I woke up with someone pounding at the door. I sit up, startled, and feel the still-warm sex toy pressing against the back of my thigh. I look at the headstand and find Nenandil giving me a thumbs up. I feel a bit embarrassed. She watched everything! But fairies are not perverts even though they are naughty. Remembering last night's experience, I notice I hadn't fantasized about anything. Not even while using the sex toy. I laugh at the thought that fucking an Elven Queen was fantasy enough.

"Your Majesty!" Ikeshia calls from outside. "It is breakfast time! You have an appointment with the council in a few hours! We need to bathe you and do your hair!"

I smell my hand. It had a faint scent of pussy, my scent. The sex toy, however, seems to be self-cleaning. I put it back on the case and use the pseudopods and my silkie {House Magic} to clean myself and the sheets. I couldn't show that newly awakened side of the Queen to the maids, could I?

After I'm done cleaning up everything, I stood up and fix my silk robes. I had a long workday ahead.