The banqueting table groaned under the weight of the lavish dishes prepared for the nobility of the tiny Alpine moutain kingdom of Upper Moronia. All the upper echelons of society were crammed into the great hall of the Castle Schloss to welcome Princess Miamana Svetlania Devrotska Illienoitch Syncowiak of Devronika - Konigsbyhaven commonly known a “Mia” the supposedly handsom Prince’s new bride to be.
Princess Mia sat looking radiant in a shimmering tiara, her gown was expertly tailored to enhance her figure and make her breasts look bigger, her pretty face was adorned with rouge and lipstick which made her look more like a cheap tart than a princess. She looked most uncomfortable as she sat with the King to her left and Gustav to her right at the head of the table.
“What is wrong my dear,” King Harald asked her quietly.
Princess Mia looked up shyly. “I don’t know.” she lied.
He instinctively knew what was wrong.
The thing was he, Harald, had decided it was a good idea for his son Gustaf, to marry a Princess from a neighbouring kingdom to consoldiate the close - ish relationship between the two. Queen Mir, Gustaf’s mother, had sadly passed away a few years earlier so she had no say in the matter. It would secure the sucession, consolidate political alliances and most important quash rumours that Gustaf was gay.
Princess Mia found herself the unwilling victim of these discussions, she didn’t really want to marry Gustaf, he was not the most attractive prince, not the prince charming of legend, rotund might well describe him, but her mother had repeatedly stressed the advantages of marrying an heir to a throne and thus of becoming a queen, and her father had given her a straight choice, marry Gustaf or enter a convent. With four brothers she was pretty far down the next in line to the throne listings and her father saw an excellent way to avoid paying a dowry, so the plans were laid.
Paintings were exchanged. Mia had sent a water colour showing a rather bloated image of herself and Harald sent an oil painting of Gustaf, showing a much taller and thinner version, and the day finally came, when Mia met Gustaf.
Their eyes met across the palace carriage entrance, he was was seriously annoyed at being told who to marry, and swiftly looked away, while she observed Gustaf with disappointment, and basically ignored him but she was seriously impressed by the King’s manly regal stature, while the King was enraptured by her flashing deep blue eyes, her long swan neck and her slender form.
Mia greeted Gustaf with mock enthusiasm and a small kiss, which he duly reciprocated before everyone went inside to finalise the wedding arrangements.
They all met again for dinner, Mia sat between the King and Prince Gustaf, they chatted amiably and discussion drifted to the wedding.
“The next step is unfortunate but I fear my physician has to give you a thorough check to ensure you are healthy,” King Harald explained.
“And a Virgin,” Gustaf added.
“Gustaf, enough,” King Harald muttered, “If you were not my only son I’d have had you hung for buggery not married,” he added.
Mia looked shocked, her rosy complexion turned almost white.
King Harald noticed her unease.
“What is wrong my dear,” King Harald asked quietly.
Princess Mia looked up shyly. “I don’t know.” she lied.
He instinctively knew what was wrong. “I am sure we can skip the medical for such a beautiful and healthy young lady.” he assured her.
“Just check she’s a virgin, I don’t want the clap,” Gustaf retorted.
Princess Mia rose from her seat, a great breach of potocol to rise before the King. She rushed away.
“Imbecile,” the King muttered as he went after Mia.
She hurried down the passage way hampered by her long flowing gown and underskirts, she did not know where she was going, she just needed some space.
King Harald ran after her, he was still fit despite being over forty years old and he easily caught her.
“I must apologise for my son’s impertinence," he insisted as he caught her and placed a protective arm around her waist.
She stopped and he held her. her heart skipped a beat as his manly arms enfolded her and she felt his hot breath on her neck.
She shivered, she half expected his hands to move to her breasts, but he just held her and spoke quietly.
“Forget the physician, let me check whether you are still pure,” he whispered.
“But I am not,” she admitted and turned to face him.
“Oh, really, it’s not just the fact that you do not wish to marry Gustaf is it?” the King asked.
“No, It’s true.” Mia replied.
“Then show me, my rooms are just up those stairs and ninth on the left,” he suggested, “Shall we?”
“No, it is wrong!” she pleaded.
“I’m the King, I make the rules,” he insisted, “I won’t hurt you, promise.”
Princess Mia reluctantly agreed. The stairs seemed interminable, the corridor endless but finally they arrived at the room.
He bolted the door, “Show me.”
Mia could not. “I cannot,” she insisted as she needed her dresser to release her stays but King Harald was no stranger to the art of undressing fashionable ladies.
His busy fingers soon had her stays loosened and her bodice discarded releasing her skirts. Her underskirts followed. She stood before a dressing table with the large four poster bed behind her. The room was quite small really, just a few chairs and a writing desk, unusual chairs with the chair back narrowed above the seat and quite soon she had just her pantaloons to hide her nakedness.
“Peel them down and spread your legs,” the King ordered with barely restrained excitement.
Mia chuckled, it was completely crazy, she felt terribly naughty, she wondered if she could make the King uncomfortable by slowly lowering her underwear.
The King was already struggling with a monster erection, he averted his gaze and sat on one of the chairs. “Come here,” he ordered. Mia stood before him, Just her shift hid her secrets.
King Harald swiftly gtasped it and tore it away revealing her breasts and her vagina in a single movement.
Mia was shocked, and then |Harald’s fingers were at her vagina, probing. She was dry, but not for long as his lips caressed each of her nipples in turn and swiftly kissed his way down past her navel to her nub.
She sighed and tried to hide her excitement but her vagina was now moistening rapidly, King Harald’s fingers spread her labia and he peered into the void of her vagina.
“Candle or footman?” he queried.
“Both,” she admitted.
“Do you like cock?” he asked crudely.
“Yes your majesty,” she admitted.
“Good because mine is nearly bent double,” he admitted. He swiftly unbuckled his belt, dropped his breeches and under breeches and sat down on one of the unusual chairs.
His cock rose rigid and proud, “Climb aboard, take me to heaven,” he suggested.
Mia was doubtful, “It’s huge.”
“Why thank you now straddle me and let’s fuck,” he offered, “That is a Royal Command and not to be dis obeyed.”
Mia did as asked and slowly sank down on Harald’s cock. He let her take her time, “Does it hurt?” he asked.
“Yes but it’s a nice hurt,” she admitted. Finally she was entirely impaled and as she reached forward they kissed for the first time.
They stayed immobile for an age, “Bend over the bed I want to shoot my load in your ass so you don’t catch a baby,” he said thoughtfully.
“No, not this time let us make a baby,” Mia whispered, “Cum in me you great big bear.”
It was too much for Harald, his cock exploded, shooting cum so hard and fast into Mia that he expected it to emerge from her mouth. “Oh fuck that wasn’t supposed to happen.” he gasped.
“It was nice though, do you want to poke my bottom now?” Mia asked.
“Dear god I nearly let you marry Gustaf,” Harald protested.
“Good so the wedding is off?” Mia cried delightedly.
“No, forget Gustaf you can marry me instead,” Harald insisted.
“And if I won’t?" she replied.
“Then you can enter a Convent,” he suggested.
“Oh well I suppose I had better say yes then,” Mia agreed, “Do you still want to poke my bottom?”
“Oh no, we have to make a baby first!” Harald replied, “And I suppose we had better tell Gustav.”
“Yes, but let us make a baby first,” Mia agreed, and suddenly the realisation hit, “I’m going to be the Queen!” which was always plan A all along.