Royal Dick

by Melinda Minx

I all but tear her dress off, and she’s naked on my bed―our bed―less than a minute after we shut the door behind us.

  I struggle to get my pants off because my dick is so hard for her. My princess.

  She rolls over onto her stomach and glances back at me over her shoulder. Her hair is spilling across her back, and her eyes are hungry for me. They widen when my pants drop and my hard cock springs up to slap my stomach.

  She slides her knees forward and sticks her ass up in the air for me. “Fuck me like this, Rikard.”

  I sure as hell won’t object to that. I grab hold of her tiny waist and gaze down at her wide hips. I press my hard cock against her opening, not going in yet.

  She moans for me, and I feel her wetness coating my cock as I slide back and forth across it.

  I teased her so much last time, but I don’t have the patience for that now. I need to be inside her. It’s a need more pressing and intense than hunger or comfort.

  And so I press in, and I feel her lips beginning to part for me. Her tight pussy squeezes my head as I push in. The wetness envelopes me, but I feel her back tighten, and she yelps.

  “It’s too tight,” she says.

  I slide my hands forward and cup her breasts. I squeeze, letting her hard nipples roll between my fingers. She moans, and without her realizing it, I push deeper inside her. The tightness intensifies as the thicker part of my cock stretches her wider, but a few inches after my head is inside her, I slide right into her, and we both moan in unison.

  “God,” she groans.

  I laugh, mostly because it feels too fucking good. I could stay in bed with her all day, fucking her and pumping her full all day and night until my balls were dry as a desert. If only I had the time.

  My father is going to meet with Siegfried at the border in a few hours, and I need to be ready in case something goes wrong. So there’s only this moment, and I intend to enjoy it.

  I slide deeper and deeper inside her. My body is still cold from being outdoors all morning, but entering her warms my cock up so much that I hardly feel the cold any longer.

  “It’s so good,” I whisper.

  She lets out a squeal as I press into her as deep as I can go. I feel my balls touch her body as my cock pulls a disappearing act inside her wet hole. I flex it, pumping more blood through the veins, and making my cock even harder. The head swells, and I feel it pressing against her tight inner walls. She squeezes me back, moaning as her hips shudder against me.

  That sets me off. I buck my hips and slide out and back in. My hips slam against her, and my balls slap her skin. I pump her fast. I don’t take it slow for even a moment. She’s got my cock soaked in her juices, so I’m lubed and ready to go―there’s no need to start slow.

  I watch as her ass cheeks jiggle each time I pound into her. I clutch them with my hands, feeling her warm flesh beneath my calloused hands.

  I slide a hand around her hips and reach for her swollen clit. The moment I touch it, her body trembles wildly, and her pussy tightens around my cock.

  I ride her like that for a long time, never really slowing down. I rub her swollen clit as I fuck her, and soon her pussy tightens around me like a vice, and a surge of soaking wetness flows across my cock. My eyes roll back in my head, but I fight the urge to cum.

  And I succeed. Jane erupts like a fountain all over my cock, but I keep going. I want to see just how many times I can make her cum.

  The first orgasm knocks her flat onto her stomach, so I have to adjust my angle and dig my elbows into the bed. I work my hips to thrust in and out of her until she finishes her release. I see her drooling onto the pillow and quivering, but I don’t stop my thrusting.

  My cock feels so wet and warm that it’s unreal, but I managed to hold back.

  I do slow down now, not for my sake, but for hers. I slide slowly in and out as her body twitches in aftershocks of orgasm. Only when I feel her hips beginning to move again do I pick up the pace.

  Jane’s second orgasm comes soon after, and she starts to scream and beg.

  “Please, Dick, please, cum inside me! I can’t take it any longer!”

  I grin and fuck her harder, but I don’t cum. My princess deserves the best.

  She tries to move away from me as the second orgasm sends her screaming, and I end up standing off the bed when I pull her back onto my cock. I hold her hips there and thrust from standing position as she lays half on the bed, her legs dangling off the edge. I watch her toes curl as I ram all the sense out of her.

  The sounds coming out of her sound almost inhuman, a mix of pure ecstasy and desperate exhaustion.

  I decide I’ll cum with her the next time― for her sake.

  I don’t have to wait long, either. Just as she recovers from the second climax, the third blasts through her body. I first feel the waves of pleasure as her pussy squeezes me tight, and then her whole body twitches.

  There’s not much screaming left in her; she just lets out an exhausted moan, like a growl or a purr.

  But my own cock is soaking wet and raw from fucking her, and the sounds she makes and the pure physical sensation finally overtakes me. My balls tighten, and a spike of adrenaline bigger than any I’ve ever felt in battle hits my blood.

  I dig my fingers into her fleshy ass, and every muscle in my body tightens as I piston in and out. The tension builds up, until it finally releases in a powerful burst through my dick. I feel the thickest load of cum I’ve ever produced erupt from my head and dump into my princess’s warm pussy.

  All the tension in my body melts away, as if it was channeled into my cum and shot out through my cock.

  I keep thrusting, mostly because my body is on auto-pilot. Jane is face down on the bed, letting out muffled moans into the sheets.

  I cum again, and again, and again.

  Soon our combined release is leaking out of her. It’s so thick that it sticks to my cock and drips off only after completely saturating me. But Jane is so full that it just flows out of her onto the sheets. My cock twitches in exhaustion as the last of my seed seeps out, and I finally pull out and collapse beside Jane in one smooth and spent motion.

  “Fuck,” I whisper, laying on my back.

  I feel Jane twitching beside me. She’s unable to speak, and I’m pretty sure she’ll fall asleep right there, with my seed still warm inside her.

  24

  Jane

  I sleep extra soundly and don’t wake up until the next morning. Handling the big gun tired me out, and I don’t mean the assault rifle.

  I imagine servants bringing me―no, not servants, but Rikard himself―serving me breakfast in bed. Instead, I rise up on my elbows to see Rikard rushing back and forth across our bedroom with his dress shirt hanging open and a tie around his neck.

  “Siegfried has called a meeting,” he says. “I need to be there to watch.”

  “I thought your father said you shouldn’t go,” I say, worried about him disobeying his father’s order and potentially sabotaging the peace talks.

  “We’ll watch it from a screen in the palace,” Rikard says.

  We. He wants me to go, too.

  “I’ll get ready,” I say, and quickly rise up out of bed.

  I never thought I’d complain about being a princess and getting to wear fancy clothes. But Nordia is a lot more conservative than somewhere like the UK. I’m not to be seen in public wearing anything but the finest clothes, and pants are not considered fine clothes.

  That means even simply going out for a walk, or doing anything in public, requires wearing a fancy dress, doing my hair, and applying makeup.

  Yet even with all those stipulations, I’m expected to be ready in fifteen minutes to go watch the negotiation talks on some screen in the palace.

  I rush to pick out a dress, while at the same time running a comb through my tangled hair too quickly. I hear and feel strands of hair breaking and snagging. “Ouch!”

  “You need to accept the help of the servants,” Rikard says, tightening his tie. />
  “But it’s so…”

  “You’re a princess,” he says. “Princesses have servants. You’re probably thinking it seems unfair that you’re expected to get ready at the drop of a hat, and expected to look flawless even when given no time to prepare.”

  It’s like he’s reading my mind. I nod in agreement.

  “Which is why you need to consider accepting the servants,” he says. “When impossible expectations are demanded from you, you need to accept help to meet them.”

  “I’ll consider it,” I say, sighing.

  I just barely manage to get ready in the allotted time, and Rikard all but tugs me out our bedroom door and down the hallway.

  We wind through the palace, and I realize that I’m finally starting to recognize where we are actually going. “The war room, right?” I ask.

  “Yes,” he says.

  It takes almost a full ten minutes to walk there due to the palace’s massive size, and when we arrive, a large contingency of generals and advisors are already gathered around the screen.

  Magnus turns toward us and nods. For some reason, I assume I’m going to just stand next to Magnus and Rikard, but two soldiers immediately grab a fancy chair that is inlaid with jewels and plated with gold. They set it down directly in front of me, and then they bow to me.

  I’m thankful that I can sit down, but unfortunately, it means that I’m not near Rikard, and no one stays with me to explain what’s going on.

  The image on the screen is of the king sitting on a throne, flanked by two members of parliament. They are whispering intensely amongst each other, and glaring at three empty seats across from them. Seats I assume will be filled by Siegfried and other high-ranking separatists.

  The meeting appears to be taking place outside, where the seats are placed in a makeshift pavilion with little more than an awning to protect against any possible rain or snowstorm. They certainly need no protection against the sun, which is hiding behind a near infinite greyness consuming the entire sky.

  I wait patiently. I’m tempted to just get up and ask Rikard what is going on, but he’s surrounded by soldiers and generals, and it doesn’t look like he has time to personally keep me in the loop. I’m thankful to be given the opportunity to watch, and I realize that to be a good ruler, I need to be able to figure things out on my own. I can’t always rely on Rikard to spoon-feed me every little detail.

  I see the king and the members of parliament stiffen and look forward, and moments later I see Siegfried and two other hard men appear on screen.

  Rather than bow, they simply give stiff nods, and then seat themselves before the king grants them permission. I don’t need Rikard to tell me that this is an insult. It’s a declaration that he is no longer their king, and that they don’t need to show him the proper respect.

  I see Rikard’s fist clenching, and I realize the war room has shifted from its earlier bustling with chatter to deathly silent. We’re all watching the screen, waiting for someone to speak.

  The king wastes no time with formalities. “We’re prepared to allow you a chance to secede.”

  “What does that mean?” Siegfried snaps.

  “You dismantle your army and unite fully with Nordia,” the king says. “You’ll pay higher taxes for one year to help rebuild the capital, and after a full year of peace, we’ll allow your people to vote to adopt a new referendum. If a majority of Sydians choose to leave Nordia, we’ll allow you to peacefully secede.”

  I watch as Siegfried’s lip twitches. The two men on either side of him stare straight ahead.

  Siegfried finally snorts, and then he says, “You’re clever, Uncle.”

  The king just scoffs.

  “Raising taxes seems like a penalty,” Siegfried says, “but the higher the taxes, the more likely we are to win the referendum.”

  The king nods, and he gives them all an exhausted look. It looks like he just wants to be done with them, like he’s given up on keeping Sydia as part of the kingdom if they will be kicking and screaming the whole time.

  The king then looks to each of the men seated on either side of Siegfried. “There’s one other condition. You’ll need to hand this traitor,” the king points to Siegfried, “over to us to stand trial.”

  Siegfried jumps to his feet in anger, and half a dozen soldiers appear out of nowhere, guns drawn.

  “Sit!” the king roars.

  Siegfried trembles, but sits back down. I’m not sure if he sits because guns are pointed in his face, or because of the thunder in the king’s demanding voice.

  The man on Siegfried’s left side clears his throat. “We will consider your offer, provided that we are allowed to set the rate of taxation.”

  “It can’t be too high,” the king says, “but we can negotiate it further, provided you accept the other terms.”

  Siegfried is shaking, clutching the arms of his chairs so tightly that the veins on his neck are bulging. He hisses something inaudible to the man sitting on his left, but the man dismisses it with a wave of his hand.

  The two men stand in unison, but Siegfried remains firmly planted in his seat. They eye him, and finally he jumps to his feet and turns his back to the king. They disappear off camera, and the tension filling the war room finally starts to dissipate.

  I notice I’ve been holding my breath, and so I take in a deep breath to return it to normal now that the negotiation is over.

  I stand up and head over to Rikard. I know I’m probably supposed to just sit there and look pretty, like a nice piece of furniture or something, but I don’t care.

  I grab Rikard by the wrist and look at him. “What do you think?”

  He locks eyes with me and shrugs. “I’m worried they’ll accept the deal.”

  I feel a flash of anger, but I don’t know what else I expected from him. Of course he doesn’t want them to take it.

  “What if they vote in favor of staying?” I say. “Your father is making them wait a year to vote, and that’s a lot of time to heal.”

  “With an insane tax rate,” Rikard scoffs.

  “I can think of a number of ways to make that work in your favor,” I say. “Spend a small portion to rebuild the capital, but dump most of the taxes into Sydia. Show them that you want them to stay, and that they are a valued part of the kingdom.”

  He looks at me seriously. “It could work,” he says. “I don’t know if that’s what parliament and my father are actually planning, but it’s worth suggesting.”

  I nod. “Why do you think they asked for Siegfried? Doesn’t that endanger the deal, a lot?”

  “We can’t set a precedent,” Rikard says. “Traitors cannot be tolerated. Besides, I figure what they really wanted from Siegfried, they already got. Now that he’s showed his hand, he’s of limited use to them. They’ll probably gladly hand him over to us at this point.”

  I’m exhausted just from sitting and watching the meeting. I can’t even imagine how drained I would be if I actually had to participate in the negotiation itself.

  Rikard has to attend a bunch of debriefings, and I’m left on my own for the day.

  I decide to check out the palace spa, which I discover has its own special room just for the princess. As soon as I appear, the staff immediately whisks me into my own private salon.

  A cheery woman in white scrubs and a tight bun on top of her head smiles and bows to me. “Princess Jane,” she says. “Welcome to your spa. I am Anna, and I’ll get you whatever you need.”

  “Thank you, Anna,” I say. “But I didn’t realize it was my spa.”

  “Of course it is!” Anna says. “The princess couldn’t possibly be mixed in with other patrons.”

  I decide not to argue with her, but the spa is inside the palace already. It’s not like any of the “other patrons” could be dangerous. Then again, Siegfried used to freely roam the palace and its grounds.

  Anna points toward a room with a large stained glass window and colored light shimmering all over the walls. “That there is the
natural spring, or would you prefer the sauna?”

  “Let me look at the spring,” I say.

  She takes me inside, and I see that it really is a natural spring and not just a jacuzzi. The shape is irregular, and the sides are formed by rocks rather than porcelain or marble. Steam is rising off the water, and the colored light streaming in from the stained glass diffuses through the steam, making the whole thing look supernatural and magical.

  “This will do,” I say, almost laughing at myself for the understatement.

  Anna nods. “I will fetch you a robe.”

  I don’t understand why I need a robe, but I don’t argue with her.

  She returns with a fold-up wooden stand, which she sets up on the marble floor just in front of the rocks. She places the robe on the stand, then says to me, “You can put your dress and other items on here, and when you’re done, feel free to wear the robe.”

  “Thank you, Anna,” I say.

  “Your Highness,” she says, bowing and stepping out of the room.

  I realize that by “other items,” she meant my underwear. People who work in palaces are very good at finding creative ways to say things they’d rather not talk about. I’ll have to get better at doing that, too, so that I don’t come off as some crass and oafish commoner.

  Once I’m totally naked, I dip my toes into the spring, and I’m shocked at just how warm it is. It’s hot, really, and by the time I lower my whole body into it, I feel the heat melting all the stress and tension right out of my body. Being out in the Nordian winter all day has made the cold seep deeply into my bones, and soaking in the hot spring is like the earth itself pumping life back into my veins.

  I sigh in relief, and then lean back against the stone, stretching out my arms. It’s just deep enough that I can stand comfortably, and I have to lower myself down ever so slightly to make the water cover me up to the neck.

  I lean back and close my eyes. Every little splash and sound echoes off the rocks. It’s incredibly soothing, and soon I lose track of time.

  The only thing that gets me out of the spa is that I eventually getl too hot. The heat felt so good at first since it’s been so cold since arriving in Nordia, but after an hour, my forehead has become coated in sweat, and I’m ready to feel some cooler air again.