by Jessica Ashe
“I want everyone out there speaking to the media and giving Sophia’s side of the story.”
“And what is that?”
“That the photos were meant to be private, and she never gave permission for them to be shared. This is a textbook case of revenge porn from a jilted ex-lover.”
“Can we get her on camera?” Harry asked.
“No, I don’t want those savages asking her questions.”
“She should apologize. If she just says she’s sorry, we can quickly move past this.”
“Apologize?” I spat the word out as if it were venomous. “What the hell should she apologize for?”
“The photos were—”
“No one else’s fucking business. She’s not going to apologize.”
Sophia would kill me if she could hear me making decisions for her like this, but she wasn’t taking my calls, so what choice did I have?
“Don’t forget the charity efforts,” Harry said.
“What about them?” I asked, a little more calmly. It didn’t do any good to take my anger out on Harry. He was a media professional—that didn’t mean he agreed with half that crap that was coming out of his mouth. At least, I hoped it didn’t.
“Sophia was the face of that charity drive along with you. We’ve already lost £100,000 in canceled donations, and new donations have all but stopped.”
“Who in their right mind cancels a charitable donation because someone was the victim of a crime?”
“Rich old men,” Harry replied. “They made donations because they wanted to be associated with you and Sophia. They no longer want to be associated with Sophia.”
“You can bet your arse they’re jerking off to the photos though.”
Harry nodded. “Most likely.”
I ran my fingers through my hair—might as well enjoy the experience while I still had some. If this went on for much longer, I wouldn’t have any hair left.
“What do we do?” I asked quietly. I didn’t have the energy for shouting any more.
“You’re not going to like what I suggest.”
“Just spit it out.”
“You said there were more photos?”
I nodded. “Video clips as well.”
“We need to get them out there.”
“No fucking way. Absolutely not.”
“We can’t start damage control when we know there’s another tsunami on the way.”
“That is one hundred percent not going to happen. Just to be abso-fucking-lutely clear about this, if those images get out there, I am going to personally deal with the individual responsible. Understand?”
“I think I get the gist,” Harry replied, in typically emotionless fashion. “In that case, your only option is to distance yourself from Sophia. Talk about separation and then we can sort out a divorce in a few months.”
Exactly as we’d planned from the beginning. It should be easy really.
“No,” I replied. “Think of something else.”
“Those are the only options I can see right now. Is it really that big a deal?”
“You don’t think divorcing my wife is a big deal?”
“Come on, George. Your marriage to Sophia was hardly built on a solid foundation.”
“It’s more complicated than that.”
“Okay, but whatever you do, you need to do it quickly.”
I sent Sophia a message asking her to call, but I knew it was pointless. A few blue ticks on the message told me that she’d read it, but I didn’t get a reply.
“Set up an interview,” I said to Harry. “With the BBC. Tell them they can ask any questions they want. Warts and all.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, let’s get everything out in the open. Then we’ll start damage control.”
I should have listened to my gut all along. I could have claimed my inheritance, dumped the money into a trust for Liam, and then paid Stan off. I didn’t like him winning, but at least that way Sophia would never have been publicly humiliated.
I closed my eyes and tried to imagine what she must be going through right now. I’d do anything to be there with her. I’d wrap my arms around her and we could pretend we were the only two people in the world.
Instead, we were two of the most famous people in the world, and the media had sunk its claws in deep. It was all my fault. I should have listened to Sophia when she recommended we stick to the original plan and ignore the royal family.
Now Sophia was royally screwed, and there was nothing I could do to help.
Except maybe one last thing.
It was all or nothing time.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Sophia
“What’s he saying now?” I asked.
“What is who saying?” Ellie replied, looking at her phone.
“I know you’re talking to George. I saw his name pop up on your phone.”
“Well you won’t reply to any of his messages.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
I didn’t trust myself with my phone. If I replied to his messages, I’d take out my anger on George and I knew that wasn’t a good idea. It wasn’t his fault, but every time I thought about those pictures, I blamed George.
If I’d never met him, I wouldn’t be in this mess. Those pictures wouldn’t be out there, and I wouldn’t be the laughing stock of the entire world.
But I’d still be miserable. I’d still be working in a café and destined to return home to America where I’d betrayed all my friends and family. And I’d be without George.
“He just wants to know you’re okay,” Ellie said. “He feels awful about all this.”
“So he should. He told me it was all sorted, and suddenly my… everything is all over the internet.”
“It’s not his fault.”
“I know. I fucking know. I just… ugh, this whole thing sucks.”
“Yeah, I’m with you on that one. You’re welcome to stay here as long as you like, by the way.”
“Thanks, but it’s not like there’s a lot of space in here. The last thing I need is a story about sharing a single bed with a woman to go around.”
“Fair point. I do think it would be best to get back to normality as soon as possible.”
I’d already tried that. I’d gone to class this morning as if I weren’t married to a prince, and look how that had turned out. I wasn’t destined to have a simple life. I got engaged to my childhood sweetheart and he turned out to be a cheating asshole. The next guy I meet ends up being a prince, and suddenly my tits are all over the Internet.
To think, I’d been quite boring as a teenager. I’d dreamed about having an exciting life.
What I wouldn’t give to be boring now.
“George is going on television,” Ellie said suddenly, staring at her phone. “It’s going to be on BBC One in thirty minutes.”
“Oh God,” I muttered. “This is going to be bad.”
“You don’t know that. He’s going to stick up for you.”
“I don’t think so. Harry will have told him he needs to distance himself from me. That’s the only way he can be a prince and do some good.”
“Even if he does, he won’t mean it. Not in his heart.”
“I don’t know about that,” I replied.
“Well I do. You only have to see the way he looks at you.”
“That’s—”
“It’s not just a show for the cameras,” Ellie interrupted. “And it’s not just him going along with the plan. He likes you. A lot. And you like him as well.”
“I guess we’ll see.”
“You don’t have to watch it.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Okay, well in that case, you’re going to need a cup of tea.”
George looked worse than I did. He clearly hadn’t let anyone put any makeup on him, judging by the bags under his eyes, and he hadn’t shaved in at least two days. Harry must be sleeping on the job to let George go on the air like that.
The interview was being broa
dcast live, and the lack of preparation was evident. The cameras started broadcasting while George and the host were still being mic'd up. I recognized the interviewer from one of the breakfast shows—Kimberly I think. She was frantically reading through notes on a piece of paper, probably trying to memorize the questions she planned to ask.
There wouldn’t be much in the way of pleasantries. This interview was interrupting planned programming which meant it was important. The BBC was about to reveal some big news about the prince and his wife. Or would that be ex-wife?
“Want another cup of tea?” Ellie asked.
“I’m still on this one.”
“Well I need more. I always drink tea when I’m nervous.”
After another minute or two, the interviewer finally introduced herself and her guest, and apologized for interrupting the television. It was only cricket, so I failed to believe anyone really cared.
“Good morning, Your Royal Highness,” Kimberly said to George.
“Please, let’s just stick to George for the time being.”
“Okay, George. We’ll cut to the chase as you requested. Recently sexually explicit photos of your wife were leaked online. No doubt this event is proving incredibly embarrassing for the two of you, even more so considering the photos were not sent to you, but to an ex-lover. Would you care to tell us how you feel about this situation?”
My heart raced as the camera cut to George who looked surprisingly calm. Was this how I would hear about my divorce? Our entire marriage had been played out in the media, so it seemed appropriate somehow.
I didn’t want to lose him, but as I looked at his face, I realized I already had. I could only hope he let me go out with some dignity.
“First of all,” George began, “the leak of these photos constitutes a serious crime. The person responsible will be punished.”
“That person being her ex-fiancé?”
“Yes, it would appear so.”
“The leak must be a source of considerable embarrassment for you?”
“I’m not embarrassed, I’m angry.”
“But how do you feel that another man has explicit photos of your wife?”
“Obviously I’d rather he didn’t still have them, but my wife has a past, as do I.”
“Are you annoyed with her for being so careless?” Kimberly asked.
George looked annoyed all right, but he directed his anger towards the interviewer.
“Why would I be annoyed with Sophia? She had a sex life before she met me, as did I. Frankly, I find your question to be almost as offensive as the leak of the photos.”
Kimberly squirmed awkwardly in her seat, but she managed to retain a composed expression.
“Go, George,” Ellie yelled. “He’s taking her to task. Uptight bitch.”
I smiled, but I knew George was about to drop a bombshell. If he’d just wanted to have a go at Stan, he could have released an official statement. There was more to come.
Kimberly turned a page in her notes, hopefully skipping past any other questions she might have had concerning my blame in all this. George was glaring at her so intently, I almost felt sorry for her.
“What will you do next?” Kimberly asked. “The photos are out there and they’re all anyone is talking about. Like it or not, this is going to affect your position as a prince and Sophia’s as a princess.”
“You’re right,” George admitted. “This will die down eventually, but in the meantime the news has already had a huge impact on my fundraising efforts. That’s pathetic, by the way, but unfortunately it’s true.”
I groaned loudly in frustration. “Great, so now I’ve taken money from charities.”
“No, Stan has,” Ellie replied. “You cannot blame yourself over this. I know I sound like a broken record, but it’s true.”
“We’re going to have to get divorced,” I said, with a heavy heart. “That’s the only solution.”
“George will find a way,” Ellie said. “He has to.”
“So that’s the plan?” Kimberly asked George. “You’re just going to wait for this all to die down?”
“Sort of. The problem is it could drag on for a long time. Especially if more photos get released.”
Oh shit.
“There are more photos?” Kimberly asked.
“What’s he doing?” I asked Ellie helplessly.
“I… I don’t know.”
“There are more,” George admitted. “As I said, I want this to die down as quickly as possible.”
“Please don’t do this,” I said to the televised version of George as I realized what he was about to do.
“There are more photos,” George said. “And I’m going to release them now. We want to take control of the situation.”
“I’m sure he’s not actually going to—” Ellie stopped in her tracks as George pulled his phone out of his pocket.
“I can’t watch,” I said, as I kept watching anyway.
I wanted to look away, but this was my brain’s way of punishing myself. George was about to show the world everything. My breasts were already online, but soon there would be full nude images, as well as videos of me masturbating, and even one with cum on my face. A woman pictured with cum dripping down her cheeks could never become Queen.
“I know it’s pre-watershed,” George said, “but I’m sure your viewers can look away.”
“I don’t think we can—” Kimberly began. She stopped arguing as she looked off-camera and presumably got the nod from her boss. “Apparently we can.”
“I’ll cut to the chase,” George flicked through a few screens on his phone. “This is the worst one. A full, close up shot of the genitals. Personally, I think it’s a beautiful picture, but the public will be the judge of that.”
He’s doing it. He’s actually fucking doing it. He’s going to show my pussy to the entire world.
“Is it a good picture, at least?” Ellie asked.
I knew she was trying to lighten the mood, but I wasn’t interested. Harry must have convinced George this was the right thing to do, but he was screwing me over in the process.
George held his phone up to the camera which slowly zoomed in and then focused on the image on his screen.
“Oh. My. God,” Ellie said loudly. “That is lush.”
“It’s… It’s….”
“It’s huge,” Ellie said. “Bloody hell, Sophia. You told me he it was big, but that’s ridiculous.”
I heard Kimberly gasp off camera as she saw the image on the phone. And what an image it was.
I stared at the rock hard, nine-inch cock I knew and loved. So did the rest of the world.
“That’s one of the more flattering photos,” George said. “There are some where I’m more… relaxed, and one where—I swear to God—it was really cold when I took the photo.”
“That’s your…” Kimberly began. “These are your photos?”
“Yep. They’re ones I’ve sent to ladies in the past. They’d probably come out sooner or later. Loads of people do it these days, and I don’t see why women should be the only ones publicly shamed about it.”
George put his phone away, and waited for Kimberly to ask him another question. She looked suitably speechless. The camera lingered on her for ten seconds until she suddenly snapped into life, presumably after receiving a word in her ear.
“We should probably go back to the cricket briefly,” Kimberly announced. “Just to gather our thoughts.”
“I have one more announcement,” George said. “But it can wait.”
As was her habit, Ellie turned the television off the second the cricket appeared on the screen. “Well, that was interesting.”
“Yeah,” I replied. “Interesting.”
“You’re still here.”
“I should probably—”
“Go screw that massive cock that women all over the world are fantasizing about right now? Yeah, you should probably go do that.”
I smiled and grabbed my things. Everyone wou
ld still be talking about me, but I didn’t care anymore. I had George.
He had one more announcement to make, and if it was half as interesting as the last one, I wanted to be there when he made it.
Chapter Thirty
George
You had to be cold-blooded to give interviews on television. The bright lights had me sweating heavily and that was without the layer of makeup someone had tried to plaster on my face before I came out here.
It probably didn’t help that I’d come on television specifically with the goal of showing my erect penis to the public. That was bound to cause the odd bit of anxiety.
And that hadn’t even been the big news of the day.
“Do you want me to ask you any particular questions?” Kimberly asked during the break. The cricket was probably getting its best viewing figures in years. “If you like, I can just let you read a speech. It sounds like you have something you want to get off your chest.”
“I do,” I replied. “I’ll just make a short statement. It won’t take long. Then you can all go back to talking about me. Trust me, there’s going to be a lot to talk about.”
“We’re going to wait half an hour,” Kimberly said. “The execs want to let word spread online about the interview for maximum viewing figures.”
“I understand.”
I pulled out my phone and eagerly looked for a message from Sophia. Nothing. I’d taken a big risk, and I was about to take an even bigger one. I wanted her by my side, but as far as she knew, I’d betrayed her trust. Given time, I might be able to earn that back, but I wasn’t sure I’d get that time. I wasn’t sure I deserved it.
Ellie wasn’t responding to messages either, which meant she was likely comforting Sophia. The second all this was over, I’d go to her and apologize. I’d get down on my knees if I had to. Whatever it took.
I tried to stay offline, but boredom and a smartphone made that impossible. News sites were struggling to keep up, and as always, Twitter was way ahead of proceedings. My cock had already been hashtagged as #royalschlong, and I was being referred to as ‘George IX’ in honor of my greatest asset.
The plan had worked. No one was talking about Sophia’s breasts any more. Boobs were everywhere you looked, but erect penises were not often flashed about outside of porn sites. One particularly on-the-ball website was already crowdfunding to produce dildos based on a mold of my penis. I didn’t know how to feel about that, but for the time being I decided to treat it as flattering.
