The Queen's New Clothes (Adult Fairy Tale - Yuri Version) (Part 1)

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-24

Long, long ago, north of Isaac, there lived a wealthy little kingdom. The beautiful queen 　　who
ruled the kingdom inherited the throne from her deceased mother. She cared little for her
army, had no interest in theatrical performances, and paid no attention to the lives of the common people. Her only pleasure and hobby
was trying on all sorts of clothes every day.
Yes, it truly was "trying on." No garment presented to the queen ever stayed with her for more than
a day. When she was in a good mood, the queen would change into a new outfit in the morning and then into
a new nightgown presented by the tailors in the evening. When she was troubled, the capricious queen would become even more capricious,
sometimes changing outfits a dozen times a day.
And no matter how extravagant the clothes, once the queen had worn them, she would never wear them again. The ministers and court tailors suffered greatly because of this, and they often had to turn to artisans outside the palace to ensure 　　that the queen was presented with new clothes to her satisfaction
every day . 　　Over time, word of the Queen's eccentricities spread, and people would 　　say of her capricious nature, "Her Majesty is probably in the dressing room right now." 　　But if you think the story ends there, you're sorely mistaken. 　　Serving the extravagant and dissolute Queen kept the ministers busy, and worst of all, no matter how skilled 　　the craftsmen, their creativity was always limited. After a few years, the Queen grew increasingly dissatisfied with the clothes presented to her. 　　She felt they looked more and more like the "old stuff" in her wardrobe, and she felt her ministers were fooling 　　her. 　　"Is this what you call 'creativity'?" 　　Finally, the Queen, seated on her high throne, erupted in anger at her ministers' days of "fooling" her. 　　"How dare you repeatedly use my old clothes to mock me—" 　　She threw away her golden scepter, inlaid with diamonds and jewels, overturned the two long rows of clothes racks in the hall, and 　　finally, grabbed a whip, angrily chased after the tailors. 　　The poor tailors were beaten until their skin was torn and bleeding, and had no choice but to flee the palace, while the ministers on both sides 　　lowered their heads in fear, afraid that the tyrannical monarch would vent her anger on them. 　　"Get out of my palace! You good-for-nothings!" 　　After that, the helpless ministers had only one last option. 　　"Urgently seeking a master tailor who can meet the Queen's clothing needs! 　　" This message was sent to neighboring friendly countries by fast horses, and at the same time, royal notices were posted throughout the country. 　　Within a week, many people claiming to "solve the Queen's troubles" gathered at the palace. 　　Among them were highly skilled tailors, wealthy clothing merchants, and learned 　　artists. However, the Queen, in a fit of anger, felt that everything she saw was a mockery. Therefore, 　　none of the items presented—whether exquisite dresses, exotic gowns, or meticulously detailed 　　designs—best met her standards. 　　One by one, the Queen dismissed the confident applicants from her palace. Without tailors to make clothes 　　for her, after wearing the few remaining acceptable "tattered" garments, she was forced to choose from " 　　old clothes. 　　" However, as we mentioned before, the Queen never wore clothes she had already worn once. She felt 　　that wearing those "old clothes" was defiling her skin. The more she looked at them, the more displeased she became. 　　Many priceless treasures were torn to shreds, the exposed skin causing ministers and 　　knights to blush and lower their heads. 　　A few weeks later, an alchemist arrived in the capital. 　　She claimed she could weave the most beautiful cloth in the world, a cloth with magical powers that 　　could solve the Queen's troubles once and for all. 　　"An alchemist? That's quite rare. Summon her so I can hear her story." 　　Although she didn't believe the alchemist could truly create clothes to her liking, 　　the Queen, still somewhat interested in magic and miracles, reluctantly granted the visitor an audience at the urging of her ministers. 　　The visitor claimed to be a master who had inherited King Monroe's secret arts. She had waist-length 　　, beautiful sapphire-blue hair and pale gold eyes like yellow agate. The woman appeared to be close to thirty, possessing 　　a voluptuous yet shapely figure that even the Queen envied. She spoke boastfully to the assembled ministers and knights 　　about her miraculous skills, claiming to have deciphered from ancient texts a 　　magical fabric that changed its appearance according to her mood. This fabric also possessed an even more wondrous power: it allowed the Queen to discern loyalty from 　　treachery—those who were foolish or disloyal to the Queen could not see or touch this enchanted cloth. 　　Hearing the alchemist's claims, the Queen developed a keen interest in her craft. 　　"But don't you need someone to assist you in cutting and sewing?" 　　"No, Your Majesty, I believe my work will satisfy you. Besides, it would be a waste for someone who doesn't appreciate Your Majesty's beauty 　　to touch Your Majesty's clothes." 　　—These words filled the Queen with a sweet warmth. 　　(This is truly a wonderful thing! If I wear it, not only will I not need to spend so much time changing clothes every day, 　　but I can also see who the real idiots are and who is disloyal to me—I must drive all those fools 　　out of my palace!) 　　She then ordered her ministers and knights to fully cooperate with the alchemist's work and paid her a large sum of 　　money. The alchemist then settled in the harem. She sent knights out to collect magical materials for her 　　and visited her ministers to inquire about the queen's daily preferences. After that, she closed the doors of her workshop, declaring that 　　no one except the queen was allowed to enter. 　　A week passed, and everyone kept hearing clanging and banging sounds coming from the workshop, but the alchemist...

He never reappeared, only the returning knights were permitted to leave their supplies in the hall.
Another week passed, and the last knight returned, but the alchemist still hadn't shown himself. All that
could be heard daily were the clanging and banging sounds emanating from the workshop.
The Queen, her anticipation growing, finally couldn't wait any longer. She hadn't worn new clothes for two weeks, but out of
pride, she refused to go to the craftsman's workshop. The feeling of wearing those old clothes was increasingly
unpleasant for her; she became irritable, often cutting perfectly good dresses to shreds,
wishing she could be naked.
"Fine, fine, I need to know what that fellow has been doing."
In the third week, the Queen finally convinced herself. She 　　entered the alchemist's workshop,
wearing a tattered but ornate and revealing short dress studded with various jewels and jade . 　　The floor was piled high with sawdust and jagged edges, the room was littered with rubble, and there were annoyingly sharp chisels and carving knives everywhere. 　　The room was unbearably hot, and molten iron and charred coal splattered everywhere—this was the Queen 　　's imagined workplace. 　　But when she entered the alchemist's workshop, she found it wasn't as filthy as she had imagined. 　　Although there were still some traces of dirt in the material piles in the entrance hall, it was clear that the owner had cleaned it carefully. The corridor 　　was spotless, and apart from a colorful parrot perched on a branch, chirping melodiously, there was 　　no noise and it wasn't too hot. She entered the weaving room, which was filled with an intoxicating 　　scent of incense. The mature, annoying woman was circling a loom, pouring some strange liquid onto… 　　…the air 　　? Good heavens, this was amazing—the Queen could see that there was nothing on the loom, but the pink liquid 　　had indeed vanished into thin air. 　　She wanted to ask what kind of magic it was, but then she remembered the alchemist's earlier words 　　—that foolish and disloyal people couldn't see this cloth. 　　She was stunned. 　　"...You've come, Your Majesty—" 　　The alchemist also noticed the Queen entering and hurriedly greeted her employer, 　　showing her her masterpiece: "Come and see this work of art! By your grace, this is truly the most beautiful cloth I've ever made 　　—look at this sky-clear blue, the pale white patterns are like warriors plucked clouds for you , even the angels are singing praises to your beauty. These wonderful patterns must be 　　the inspiration given 　　by the Virgin Mary, knowing I was working for you, truly..." 　　The Queen was stunned. 　　She couldn't even see the "gift from heaven" she had been so proud of on the alchemist's arm. 　　She recalled the alchemist's words—am I really such a fool? 　　"And also, although this fabric wasn't easy to work with, I've already completed the first part of your beautiful new dress 　　—look at this exquisite shawl! Although it was only cut by eye, I'm confident it will 　　fit you perfectly, Your Majesty..." 　　The Queen watched the alchemist approach with the garment in his arms, her heart pounding with anxiety. 　　"It fits you perfectly, it's wonderful! Would you like to try it on now?" 　　"Yes, yes..." the Queen forced a smile. She absolutely couldn't admit to being foolish... something must 　　be wrong. 　　But the alchemist's natural, fluid movements, and the fervent way he stroked the fabric, forced 　　her to believe that the woman truly possessed a magnificent shawl. 　　"I call it 'The Beloved's Affection.' If Your Majesty wears it, your subjects will surely adore you 　　." 　　"Yes... yes..." Something must be wrong. "This looks quite nice." 　　The Queen awkwardly responded to the alchemist's words, pretending to reach out and touch the "shawl," as if she 　　could see it too. 　　Something must be wrong. Could I, the ruler of a nation, be such a fool? Could it be… 　　? …Am I not a qualified king? This is terrifying! If others knew, those foolish 　　idiots would surely… 　　So, at the alchemist's enthusiastic request, she put on the "long, 　　magnificent shawl, like a cascading silver river. 　　" The alchemist told her that the shawl was so luxurious that no ordinary clothing could match 　　its beauty—not even the Queen's tattered dress. So she had no choice but to comply with the 　　alchemist's wishes, removing her dress and undergarments, then blushing and posing in front of the full-length mirror 　　to pretend she could indeed see the shawl. 　　The queen in the mirror possessed a figure as delicate and charming as a young girl, yet her breasts were as 　　full and rounded as those of a captivating young woman. Even seasoned veterans of the nobility would marvel at her figure; her fair skin 　　was flawless even under close scrutiny. Her fingers were like scallions, her arms like lotus roots, 　　and her long, flowing golden hair reached her waist. The short hairs of her pubic area, meticulously trimmed by court maids, resembled a small clump 　　of golden leaves concealing her private paradise. 　　"This is truly excellent—I am very satisfied." 　　The incense in the room grew stronger, almost intoxicating—the queen instinctively repelled the 　　scent. Blushing, she praised the garment, whether referring to her own body or the " 　　serene and beautiful shawl like the night sky," she couldn't quite tell. Then, she felt a urge to leave. 　　But the alchemist stopped her. 　　"What? You want to touch my noble body?" 　　As instructed by the alchemist, her fabric was mostly ready, and the first shawl was complete.

But to tailor the Queen's gown, she had to meticulously measure every inch of the Queen's body.
"My maids have previous measurements, and besides, it's extremely rude of them all; those tailors have never made
such an impolite request."
Feeling offended, the Queen instinctively wanted to cover her chest, but then she remembered that the large
shawl should have completely covered her front—so instead, she puffed out her full
breasts and proudly said to the alchemist, "How dare you artisans touch the Queen's body so casually
?"
"Your Majesty, it can only be said that those tailors did not respect you.
" After being refused, the alchemist turned to the queen and began to explain the "common sense" of tailors' work: "To cut
clothes that fit perfectly, old measurements are not enough. A skilled tailor needs to personally feel
every inch of the customer's skin to remember the amount of fabric used and the cutting method—this garment is
a rare treasure unique to you. If you ask me to use the shoddy tricks of those clumsy tailors to make
it look shoddy, it will definitely be overshadowed." "
...I see. No wonder the clothes made by those incompetent tailors always feel ill-fitting to me."
Having stayed there for a while, the queen felt a strange intoxication. She thought about
the tattered cloth that had hurt her precious skin, and cursed those shoddy tailors—no tailor had ever offered to measure her body before
—and gritted her teeth, agreeing to the alchemist's request.
"This, this should be fine, right..."
As requested, the Queen removed her shawl and held it out to a small clothes rack in front of the mirror. This
position made her feel incredibly embarrassed, yet the alchemist's meticulous measurements with the tape measure
made it difficult for her to refuse his kindness.
"Your body is truly beautiful."
Countless sweet words piled up in the Queen's heart. After each measurement,
the alchemist, who also worked as a tailor, would offer a few words of praise. After more than ten minutes, she had written a messy pile of data on the cardboard,
and the Queen was beginning to breathe slightly heavily.
"Enough with the nonsense. I am the most beautiful woman in this country..."
The Queen felt something strange; it was the first time she had ever felt this way—
after the tailor's hands had touched her entire body, her legs began to feel unsteady, and she felt a strange, warm sensation in her lower abdomen. Some wetness
lingered at the base of her legs, making the Queen wonder if she had unknowingly urinated.
"Almost there, but still a little short."
The hand that suddenly climbed up her breasts from behind made the Queen gasp. She wanted to call for the guards, but
then she heard the tailor's explanation.
"Please forgive my rudeness, Your Majesty. Because people cannot
guarantee their bodies will remain in a normal state while wearing clothes, a responsible tailor must always consider the changes in the human body and leave some
room to reduce the burden on the wearer."
"Yes, is that so…"
Thinking of that beautiful dress—though she couldn't see it herself, it would surely be dazzling if she wore it out
… the Queen acquiesced to the tailor's actions. She allowed the tailor's hands to
wantonly knead and abuse her delicate, noble skin, squeezing her poor, plump breasts into various strange shapes. Soft, smooth flesh
bulged from between the fingers that held her breasts, a sight that even the Queen herself found incredibly lewd.
"How strange… this is so rude, what is she trying to do…"
In this unprecedented, breathtakingly intoxicating realm, the Queen's nipples quickly hardened
, then became even firmer under the caress of two pairs of white fingers, proudly pointing towards the ceiling. The tailor
took a thin measuring tape and carefully tied it to the engorged nipples,
recording the diameter and length of the small pink grapes when they were engorged.
"Your Majesty, as mentioned before, to achieve a seamless fit,
the size of your nipples when erect is also very important. Surely you wouldn't want to feel oppressed when you're in heat while wearing clothes?"
"In heat…what is that? I wouldn't be so shameful…"
Normally, the Queen would have whipped this impudent person to death, but now, she felt
a strange pleasure brewing within her.
This woman with magic must be doing this for my own good, otherwise why would I feel so comfortable?
Thinking this, the Queen cooperated even more diligently with the tailor.
Following the tailor's instructions, she straightened her chest and raised her head, allowing his hands to record the shape
and softness of her delicate, snowy buttocks. The elasticity of her thigh skin was also meticulously recorded, and even the distance between her legs during daily movements was measured in detail .
However, one last thing truly embarrassed her—the tailor proposed
a detailed examination of her private cavity regarding the so-called "shape of her labia."
This was utterly unacceptable to her, and the queen hesitated for a long time, unable to give a reply.
"Your Majesty," the tailor said gently, taking the Queen
's hand. He whispered in her ear, his lips close to her earlobe, as if revealing a world-shaking secret,
"the third part of this garment is a powerful magical artifact,
the secret to how magicians wield magic—"
The tailor explained that when the Virgin Mary created the world, there was originally only night, and her creations could absorb
the essence of the "Night Lady" to nourish themselves. However, over time, the natural essence flowed into the bodies of living beings,
forcing the Virgin Mary to constantly replenish what was missing. Many years later, the Virgin Mary grew
weary of this repetitive work, so she devised a solution—she created a "Sun Lady," and then each of the two
ladies ruled half a day. Thus, the essence absorbed by the creatures at night would gradually flow
into the "Sun Lady" after sunrise, creating a perpetual cycle of natural energy, eliminating the need for further replenishment.
The Holy Mother was worried.
The magicians' secret was that at daybreak, they would fill their
uterus with magical artifacts made of moonlight sand. This would block the power of the Sun Goddess, allowing the essence absorbed at night to be preserved in the womb for a long time
. Over the years, this would enhance one's wisdom, enabling the use of magical spells.
"If you don't believe me, you can look at mine—ooh…like this…"
The tailor let out an alluring moan, then pulled a long, thick,
somewhat soft, pinkish rod-like object from her lower body.
"So big…what is this…"
The Queen instinctively covered her eyes—but curiosity made her part her fingers slightly, examining
the raised granules on the object and the sticky, transparent liquid clinging to its surface.
The Queen finally agreed.
The tailor carefully measured her vulva and lovely inner labia with his fingers and a stiff ruler, then told her that
this conservative shape was merely a budding flower; to match this exquisite dress, it should
bloom like a vibrant, dewy rose.
"What nonsense!" the Queen thought, lying on the bed, kicking the soft mattress padded with layers of velvet in dissatisfaction.
She recalled the feeling from earlier that day; she couldn't see the dress, but the feeling of wearing it was light,
airy, relaxed, and natural, as if she were wearing nothing at all. The more she thought about it, the more excited she became. She was convinced that the magical seamstress
was an exceptionally skilled craftswoman, her workshop so tidy, the scent in the room so alluring, and she
could even weave such magical fabric… The more she thought about it, the more annoyed she became. She found the nightgown she was wearing for the third time
so repulsive, clinging to her skin and making it impossible to sleep, like demon wings covering her body—
so she got out of bed, angrily ripped off the nightgown. After all, her palace was perpetually warm,
and she wouldn't catch a cold even if she slept naked.
A garment with such a tactile feel must be incredibly beautiful, but unfortunately, something was wrong; she couldn't
see such luxurious clothing—the Queen thought of the magicians' tricks again, but whether it was
a method to enhance wisdom or a way to quickly display mature beauty, it required someone to touch her private
parts…
The new dress was so anticipated that the Queen could no longer look at any other clothes. The next day
, early in the morning, the Queen, unusually early to rise, simply pushed aside the maids who wanted to serve her and
ran naked into the alchemist's workshop.
The small workshop was as clean and tidy as ever, the air filled with that alluring fragrance. The colorful
parrot in the tree, perhaps the alchemist's pet, tilted its head in a friendly manner upon seeing the Queen's arrival.
The tailor, even earlier than the Queen, was already busy at her loom.
"I... grant you... no, I offer you wisdom!"
She had mustered immense courage to utter these words, but the seamstress, who had anticipated this, merely
smiled gently. She led the Queen to a chaise lounge, lightly kissed her lips, and placed her
finger in the Queen's palm, saying, "Tell me, you did this entirely of your own free will."
"I..." the Queen bit her lip with difficulty, replying, "I did it of my own free will, to
grow up sooner, to... become wiser."
The seamstress lay down on the chaise lounge, which was set low with narrow, short armrests,
easily allowing someone to straddle it. After removing her clothes, she lay flat on the chaise lounge, the magical wand still inserted in her secret place
, but with one difference: the protruding end was no longer a flat, protruding handle,
but connected to another identical stick, bent at an angle and standing tall.
"What should I do?"
The Queen nervously clenched her hands.
When her mother died, she wasn't old enough to have sexual experience, and the palace maids dared not teach
the monarch such ambiguous matters. As a result, although the Queen was of marriageable age, she still
had no concept of these things. The only thing the willful Queen knew was that once she let something in,
she would definitely lose something... She had never been willing to give up anything that belonged to her.
Following the tailor's instructions, the Queen nervously sat on her lap.
Then, using her index and middle fingers, she pressed down on the tender flesh of her vulva, slowly
opening her private parts in front of the tailor—she herself couldn't see the warm, moist opening, but the tailor could see it clearly. She
felt a warm sensation gushing from the pinkish opening. Due to the queen's shyness and excitement, clear fluid
trembled and gathered at the edge of her labia. Accompanied by her panting, these glistening liquids seemed to
quiver along with her tense little mouth, almost spilling out several times.
This was too shameful. If it weren't for seeing the clothes, I would never have done this.
The queen, forcing herself to remain calm, raised her noble head and asked in a superior tone, "And then…
…what else do you need me to bestow upon you?"
The more frustrated she felt, the more proud she became—this was precisely what made her so likable.
"To alleviate Your Majesty's pain, Your Majesty should find a way to make more fluid flow from there and apply that
stuff to it."
The Queen paused, then replied somewhat awkwardly, "I don't know how to do it, so... then I'll
grant you special permission, like yesterday... with your fingers..."
Her voice trailed off, barely a whisper.
The tailor then pulled the Queen to his waist, his erect member resting against her soft, rounded buttocks.
He lightly touched the slightly protruding clitoris on the monarch's vulva with his fingers, and after a few teasing touches, the sensitive clitoris began
to swell.
"This is called the clitoris, the most sensitive spot down there. If any of your subjects are disloyal, you only need to gently..."
"Just lick them here, and those little girls will be ecstatic."
The Queen hummed indistinctly.
"Some girls' nipples are very sensitive..." As she spoke, the tailor's other hand climbed up
the Queen's high breasts, lingering on the beautiful pink tip. "Look, like Your Majesty
..."
The fingers pinching the nipple seemed to be filled with magic; the Queen felt a tingling sensation
spreading from the tailor's fingertips into her proud breasts.
"You, you rude one... Oh... Why... I don't
feel anything at all..." She must be bewitched, yet she couldn't let go... The tailor exuded
an alluring milky fragrance; being near her was like being back in her mother's arms. She wanted...
The Queen quickly shook her head, banishing these wicked thoughts that had arisen in her daze.
"You...you...it's simply...it's simply...ahhh..."
The fingers probing into the muddy valley felt like they were directly teasing the Queen's heart; the unprecedented
pleasure left her speechless. Unconsciously, she leaned against the woman's body—if she were conscious,
she would be utterly astonished. Our Queen would never be intimate with a commoner, not even a magician
—such close skin-to-skin contact had far exceeded Her Majesty's tolerance.
"Those seasoned veterans of the pleasure quarters often say that the bigger a woman's breasts, the more wanton she is—of course,
that's just a dirty joke, but Your Majesty, there's some truth to it, isn't there?"
The words echoing in her ears were like the whispers of a demon; the warm breath ignited a fire in the Queen's heart
, burning away her supposedly impeccable nobility.
"But... Mother told me... the bigger a woman's breasts... the more... noble she is..."
The Queen, her face buried between the tailor's soft breasts, softly
refuted the tailor's statement in a sweet, cloying tone she hadn't used in a long time.
"Nobility and lewdness aren't mutually exclusive, my lovely Your Majesty."
The Queen couldn't refute, and she bit her lip again.
She had always believed she would grow into the woman with the most beautiful breasts in the kingdom, and in fact,
she had enough to be proud of—even those breast knights whose breasts had been artificially developed
rarely had breasts far exceeding hers. But if the tailor's words were true, then the more voluptuous a woman's breasts
, the more... the magic master who could create such magical fabric couldn't be lying, right?
"I, I won't... Waaah... Waaah—"
Wanting to defend her face and ideals, the Queen stuffed a sweet pink grape into her mouth.
"My Majesty, if it were someone else who were lewd, they might only be repulsive, but who could
dislike someone as beautiful and lovely as you?"
Words of praise, enough to make one blush and their heart race, poured out of the tailor's mouth like verses of poetry.
The dual sweetness of body and mind overwhelmed the Queen's feverish mind, leaving her unable to cope. She felt a slight
pain in her dazed state, but when she regained some clarity, she was already riding the tailor like a valiant knight,
galloping across his body.
"Your Majesty's little hole is truly wonderful… Any woman who has tasted this will surely fall at
Your Majesty's feet…"
There was no pain, no discomfort, as she had imagined… Although that long thing was deeply
inserted into her body, gently tapping against the gates of her uterus with her unconscious movements,
the Queen felt no ill effects from the foreign object penetrating her body, splitting her in two.
On the contrary… she felt pleasure. She
wanted more, more.
The Queen caressed her beautiful breasts, gently pressing the proud pink nipples. These plump things
trembled uncontrollably with her body's sway; if the tailor hadn't held them in place, they would have
been shaking painfully—a responsible tailor indeed has so many things to consider… You see,
a dress made of ordinary fabric and with mortal craftsmanship couldn't withstand such treatment. Thinking of
the pleasure and beauty she would experience later, dressed in her finest attire, the Queen looked forward even more to the unfinished gown.
"Right, my things… always… always… ahhhhh…"
The best.
The Queen murmured the unspoken words, reaching her first
climax in extreme pleasure.
From then on, the Queen visited the tailor more and more frequently.
She often rushed to the workshop right after breakfast, sometimes skipping it altogether. At first, she would still
appear for lunch, but after a few days, she wouldn't even come out for lunch. Her close advisors had to
deliver her daily meals to her workshop; if they hadn't firmly refused for her safety
, she might have even slept there at night.
When the ministers inquired, she would tell them that she had recently been consulting with a learned alchemist on
how to become a qualified knight.
The ministers were deeply gratified—although the queen's recent tendency to expose herself was somewhat worrying, she
seemed to have become much more sensible. She no longer demanded new clothes as capriciously, and even her occasional tantrums
had decreased. The happiness index of the palace, no, the entire capital, and even the entire kingdom, had suddenly increased considerably.
Of course, only two people knew exactly what was happening in the workshop
.

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