The Price of Passion

Once upon a time, in a kingdom not so far away, lived a Queen renowned across the land for her radiant beauty and her truly breathtaking, voluptuous bust.
Among her admirers was Nick the Dragon Slayer, a brave knight who found himself hopelessly captivated by her royal majestic cleavage. Nick knew that laid a single hand upon those magnificent curves, the penalty would be swift execution. Yet night after night, he burned with a desire that no dragon could ever quench.
Driven to distraction, Nick finally confessed his wicked obsession to his clever friend, Horatio, the King’s chief physician.
Horatio stroked his beard, a slow smirk spreading across his face. "I can give you four glorious, uninterrupted hours to feast upon your heart’s desire," Horatio purred. "But my brilliant concoctions do not come cheap. It will cost you a cool one thousand gold coins."
Without a second's hesitation, Nick agreed.
The very next afternoon, while the Queen was enjoying her royal bath, Horatio slipped into her dressing room and dusted her silk lingerie with a potent, custom-crafted itching powder.
Minutes after dressing, the Queen was seized by an unbearable, fiery itch right across her chest. Writhing in sweet agony, she summoned the chief physician. Horatio examined her with grand dramatic flair before delivering his grave diagnosis to the frantic King.
"Alas, Your Majesty," Horatio declared, "the Queen suffers from a rare royal rash. There is only one known cure: an ointment made from a very specific, rare saliva, applied continuously via passionate, thorough rubbing for four full hours. And according to my diagnostic charts... only Nick the Dragon Slayer possesses this miraculous saliva."
Desperate to relieve his wife's torment, the King immediately ordered Nick to the royal bedchamber. Right before entering, Horatio surreptitiously handed Nick a small vial of the neutralizing antidote. Nick washed it around his mouth, walked inside, and got straight to work.
For four agonizingly delicious hours, Nick lavished lavish, breathless attention on the Queen’s glorious, trembling breasts—licking, kissing, and massaging every inch until her feverish writhing turned into breathless sighs of absolute relief.
When the time was up, the Queen’s itch was completely cured. Nick departed floating on cloud nine, hailed by both the King and Queen as a heroic savior of the realm.
Back in his quarters, Nick was greeted by Horatio, who held out his hand with a smug grin. "That will be one thousand gold coins, my friend."
Nick, his deepest fantasy thoroughly fulfilled, merely snorted. Knowing Horatio could never expose the plot without losing his own head to the executioner, Nick laughed in his face. "Get lost, doctor. You won't see a single copper from me."
The very next morning, Horatio quietly crept into the royal laundry room... and poured a massive, double-strength dose of the exact same itching powder directly into the King’s silk underwear.
Ten minutes later, the King frantically summoned Nick to his private chambers...
Moral of the story: Always pay your doctor's bill.