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Chapter Text  章节正文

Mr. Moore knocked on the wooden door and seized the golden doorknob leading to the Princess' chambers in his hand. When he heard a soft feminine voice tell him to enter, he braced himself. Like he did every time he came to this godforsaken wing of the Arcadian Royal Palace.
摩尔先生叩响雕花木门，鎏金门把在他掌中微微发烫。当听见室内传来娇柔的女声唤他入内时，他像每次踏进阿卡迪亚王宫这个被诅咒的偏殿时那样，绷紧了全身肌肉。

The old butler dreaded the day King Harold's daughter would inherit the kingdom for most of his career, and the weeks that passed since the funeral hadn't quelled those concerns at all. He entered the room and gave a polite bow. But, when he raised his head and adjusted his rectangular metallic glasses on his aquiline nose, he couldn't help but let out a deep sigh.
老管家在职业生涯的大部分时间里，都畏惧着哈罗德国王的女儿继承王位的那一天。葬礼过去数周后，这份忧虑丝毫未减。他走进房间，彬彬有礼地鞠躬。可当他抬起头，扶正鹰钩鼻上那副金属框方眼镜时，还是忍不住深深叹了口气。

Lying on the bed, a young woman was reading a book next to the window. The nature of the volumes she was browsing wasn't the reason for Mr. Moore's irritation. He knew each of the ones arranged in a neat little pile next to her on the sheets. Sun Tzu's Art of War, Machiavelli's Prince, Ayn Rand's Atlas Shrugged, and Karl Marx's Das Kapital... Valuable knowledge for someone about to take the reins of Arcadia. He recommended several of these works to his former pupil himself.
一位年轻女子正倚窗而卧，手捧书卷。摩尔先生的不悦并非源于她所翻阅的书籍内容——床单上整齐码放的每一本著作他都了如指掌：《孙子兵法》、马基雅维利的《君主论》、安·兰德的《阿特拉斯耸耸肩》、卡尔·马克思的《资本论》......这些皆为即将执掌阿卡迪亚大权者不可或缺的智慧结晶。其中多部典籍，正是这位前任导师亲自为得意门生推荐的必读书目。

No, the problem was that the Princess was — once again! — in a sorry state of undress. For heaven's sake, what was the point of knocking if she didn't even try to look presentable!
不，问题在于公主又一次——又一次！——衣衫不整地出现在人前。看在老天的份上，既然连体面都不顾，敲门又有什么意义！

The white veil the 24-year-old blonde was wearing could barely pass as nightgown. It was so transparent it looked like erotic lingerie. Mr. Moore could fully see the plump shape of her breasts hidden under a flimsy bra, her slick and slender figure outlined in the morning light, and her firm perky bosom scarcely concealed by daring white panties.
这位 24 岁金发女郎身披的白纱几乎不能算作睡裙。它透明得宛如情趣内衣，摩尔先生能清晰看见薄如蝉翼的胸衣下她浑圆饱满的胸型，晨光中勾勒出她滑腻纤细的曲线，而大胆的白色底裤几乎遮不住她挺翘的双峰。

Considering she was facing away, the latter was in full view, and the butler couldn't help but notice the thing holding her underwear together was little more than a string nestled between her curvaceous buttcheeks. He could nearly see her intimate parts...
考虑到她背对着他，后方的风光一览无余，管家不禁注意到那件维系着她内衣的不过是一条深陷在丰腴臀瓣间的细绳。他几乎能窥见她私密部位的轮廓……

It wasn't how a noble lady should dress. Or how any normal person dresses, for that matter! This outfit couldn't possibly be comfortable to sleep in, and it was certainly inappropriate to wear while receiving visitors. Yet, the Princess was unbothered by the fact she was showing off her body to a man almost three decades older than she was, and who was her late father's closest councilor, to boot!
这绝非贵族淑女应有的装束。说真的，连普通人都不会这么穿！这身打扮根本不适合入睡，更不适合在接待访客时穿着。然而公主殿下毫不在意——她正对着年长她近三十岁的男人展示身躯，而对方还是她已故父王最亲近的谋臣！

Mr. Moore gritted his teeth at the Princess' unladylike behavior, but refrained from making a comment. He had to come to terms with it, he was currently in the presence of Arcadia's new ruler. Blonde as if a golden crown had been bestowed upon her from birth, as beautiful as a sunset over a sapphire blue sea... And an absolute nightmare to interact with!
摩尔先生对公主不合淑女礼仪的行为咬牙切齿，却强忍着没有出言评论。他不得不接受这个事实——此刻站在他面前的正是阿尔卡迪亚的新任统治者。那与生俱来的金发宛如天赐王冠，容颜美若蓝宝石海面上的落日霞光......却是个令人避之唯恐不及的噩梦！

"Lady Iris, as you ordered, a list of potential consorts has been established and a first cohort has arrived to the palace," said Mr. Moore, with deference.
"艾瑞丝小姐，按照您的吩咐，我们已拟定候选驸马名单，首批人选现已抵达王宫。"摩尔先生恭敬地禀报道。

"About damn time, this sorting process is mind-numbing!" sighed the Princess, looking over from the book she was reading. 

"There were a lot of applicants to consider, My Lady. A great many of your subjects would consider it an honor to become your betrothed. Furthermore, there were certain... queries in the questionnaires you gave me that have raised a few eyebrows." 

"Well, my subjects aren't the ones who have to settle on a mail-order husband, so, tough titty," she shrugged. "Show me the first specimens you've gathered, I'm curious." 

Iris threw her book away on the queen size canopy bed — it seemed to be Thomas Hobbes' Leviathan, from its cover — and started to stroll toward the door, before Mr. Moore stopped her in her tracks. 

"My Lady, maybe you should... Dress for the occasion," he said, uncomfortably. "Who knows, maybe one of the men you'll meet today will be your future fiancee. First impressions are important."
"殿下，或许您该...为这场合打扮一下，"他局促不安地说道。"谁知道呢，今天您遇见的某位男士说不定就是未来的驸马。第一印象很重要。"

The Princess looked at the old butler, whose glare awkwardly drifted away from her cleavage. She forgot she was wearing her night dress, but it didn't particularly bother her to go out like this. When her father was around, he often criticized her for her revealing outfits, saying they were unbecoming of Arcadia's nobility. But that time was over.
公主望着年迈的管家，对方的目光正尴尬地从她袒露的胸脯上移开。她这才想起自己还穿着睡裙，但就这样出门也并未让她感到不适。父王在世时常批评她衣着暴露，说这有失阿卡迪亚贵族的体统。但那样的日子已经结束了。

One of the few good things to come out her father's passing was the fact Iris could finally dress however she wanted. The whole palace was her home now. Who doesn't like to dress comfy in their home?

Mr. Moore probably didn't. Even when he came back to his house at night, Iris doubted he ever put out the massive stick he had up his ass. The old man was a diligent worker, she had to give him that, but he was so boring and conceited.

He also was the only person who still shunned or reprimanded her from time to time, while every other servant in the castle dutifully obeyed her. The fact he wasn't as much of a bootlicker as the rest of them was probably why she had kept him around up until now, despite the fact he was a walking reminder of the bleak solemnity of her father's reign.

Iris intended to usher in a new era for Arcadia, an era in which the poor ageing butler would soon look like a fossil. Still, as long as he was around, it was fun to annoy him.

"What problem could my subjects possibly have with my garment?" asked the Princess, shaking her shapely butt to provoke him. "Don't I look like proper nobility to you, Mr. Moore?"

The butler's fist clenched around the folder he was holding and he readjusted his thick glasses to keep his composure. It was difficult to guess if it was because he was thrown off to have such a beautiful young woman flirt with him, or because he was infuriated by the future Arcadian Queen's discourteous behavior. Probably the latter. It was always the latter...

"Nobility comes from blood and birthright. So, no matter what you do, you'll always be nobility, Princess," said the austere butler, frowning at her attempt to offend him. "But the according decorum is paramount if you want to be respected by your subjects. It's a question of etiquette."

"Oh, "etiquette", I get it... It's because I'm missing a crown, then?" joked Iris, while puffing out her chest to make the shape of her breasts more obvious under her transparent nightgown. "Is the crown what's missing with my outfit, Mr. Moore?"

"If we follow protocol, you're not allowed to wear Arcadia's crown until you're inaugurated as Queen, Lady Iris," he answered, stiffly. "Only the Princess tiara."

Uuugh, the guy was such a buzzkill. Whatever she did to taunt him, the silver-haired butler always remained uptight. It was the same back when he tutored her during childhood, he scolded her whenever she tried to get out of a homework assignment. All work and no play, every day of the week. The guy's whole personality was that he was a stickler for rules, no wonder he had never gotten married!

"Right... Wouldn't want to break protocol, now, would we?" Iris sighed, before getting to her closet.

The young Princess opened her locker and threw a couple of clothes on the bed. Louis Vuitton, Gucci, Yves Saint-Laurent... everything was expensive. There was probably enough in there to get a kid through college.

But the 24-year-old girl couldn't care less about those overpriced rags. They were more her father's than hers, in a way. King Harold had preferred to shower his only daughter with exorbitant gifts than to actually take part in raising her. He had let this weight — like many others — fall on his Royal Butler's shoulders.

Iris' youth had been glum and solitary, especially with her mother gone when she was still young. Now that her parents had passed, the only thing she got to show for it were those stupid clothes she intended to donate to the poor after the royal wedding. Well, that, and a kingdom of several hundreds of thousands of inhabitants...

The Princess got next to the bed and started to remove her bra, thinking about the men she was going to meet today. Could she actually find the right one from day one? She doubted it. From the many affairs she had in Court, she had learned men rarely — if ever — met her standards. And if the young blonde had a hard time finding a decent lover for a short-time fling, finding a lifelong spouse was going to be like looking for a needle in a haystack! And she only had the few weeks until she turned 25 to settle all this... Talk about a challenge.

She suddenly heard a loud cough, and her eyes darted back to Mr. Moore, whose cheeks had turned strawberry red. It took her a few seconds to understand it was because she was carelessly undressing in front of him.

"I may... I must... I should probably leave you to it," mumbled the older man.

"Oh come on, you've seen me like this back when I was in diapers, Mr. Moore!" Iris laughed, while shaking her boobs as she removed her bra. "Don't tell me you're afraid of naked girls?"

"I'd rather it stayed a distant memory," the butler quipped back. "What will I say to your future husband if he asks me why I've seen his darling wife in the nude?"

"Dunno, he'll probably challenge you to a duel to the death," the Princess smirked. "That might make for a fun afternoon."

Mr. Moore rolled his eyes, and he abruptly turned away from her.

"I'll wait for you outside, My Lady," he replied, walking toward the door.

Jesus, live a little, old man. Her nipples didn't bite! She was tired of him acting as if he was better than everybody else only because he was her father's right-hand man. The King was dead, long live the Princess! He had to understand where his loyalties lied, now.

"Halt!" Iris ordered. "You must stay and help your new sovereign during her Levee ceremony. Your Princess and future Queen commands it!"

Mr. Moore stopped in his tracks and turned back to her, having a hard time maintaining eyecontact with the beautiful half-naked woman. But he collected himself and scratched the whitening hair on his temples.

"The Levee ceremony is a custom of the French Versailles monarchy, it's never been practiced in Arcadia," he responded, with a scholarly tone. "I am the Royal Butler, not your handmaiden. My function is to manage the Royal Palace's staff and give you recommendations on state affairs. If none of those things need to be tackled right now, I'll take my leave."

He went for the door again, but the facetious noble woman stopped him again.

"Don't! For your Princess direly needs your wise counsel on a very pressing royal matter!" said Iris, mimicking his pompous professorial tone.

"A... Alright, and what matter may that be, My Lady?"

The Princess turned around and slipped a pair of see-through white knickers on her shapely bottom.

"Be honest, do you think those panties make my ass look fat?"

The old butler's shoulders stooped and he let out a deeply depressed sigh.

"Princess, I've studied Royal Law, Economy and International affairs. I've advised King Harold on what our Kingdom's vote should be in the UN, orchestrated the response to the pandemic, organized our military forces when turmoil brew in neighboring countries. This is hardly the way to use the advice of a man who's worked on our nation's politics for decades."

"Hush now! Less backtalk and more counsel from my Royal Counselor!"

Defeated, Mr. Moore looked at the young woman's rear and uttered, between clenched teeth:

"Your derriere is of very balanced proportions, My Lady."

"I didn't inquire about my "derriere", I inquired about my ass!" Iris insisted, mischievously.

The disgruntled butler contemplated leaving the room and tending his resignation letter. That thought crossed his mind at least three times a day. But it was the coward's way out, and he had promised to himself he would do everything to ensure a smooth coronation after King Harold's demise. If that included enduring his insufferable daughter's games, so be it.

"Your... ass is very pleasant to look at, Princess," he finally said, reluctantly. "A lovely sight to behold."

"Finally, an honest opinion!"

Iris smiled at the fuming butler, overjoyed to piss him off and to hear him use foul language. During her childhood and teenage years, she had to obey him since he was her tutor. Being the one to order him around now that she was to become Queen was a nice change of pace.

It wasn't a form of payback, since Mr. Moore had been nothing but respectful with her and consistent in his role as professor, but still... The Princess was getting a kick out of turning the tables on him!

She realized she might be pushing things a bit far though, considering how livid he was getting. It was fun and a bit exciting to torment the stern older man, but she didn't want to get on his bad side. Despite being a stick in the mud, Mr. Moore was the Royal Palace's most competent worker, he could still prove useful during this short interregnum. Who knows, maybe later on too?

The 24-year-old girl put on a classy blue dress and combed her flawless blonde hair in front of the mirror. She had always been good-looking, but adulthood had made her blossom into one of the most attractive and elegant women in the Kingdom. Every man she had ever encountered had fawned over her, paparazzos followed her whenever she went on vacation abroad, and she had read numerous foreign articles regarding Arcadia's rumored Beauty Queen. Iris had grown surrounded by admiration and praise... and she resented it all.

She hated how people looked at her as the embodiment of the "Fairytale Princess" stereotype, and she hated even more the fact her alluring body, golden hair and fair complexion was proving them right. The only compliment she had ever received from her father wasn't about a personality trait or a witticism of hers, but about her graceful outside appearance. As far as parental approval went, that was a pretty fucking low bar to reach!

King Harold had never truly seen her, maybe no one ever did. That person in the mirror wasn't her. It never had been.

"Happy now?" sighed the Princess, lost in gloomy thoughts. "I'm all dolled up and I look exactly like the thousands of other entitled rich girls from all over the world. Am I "ladylike" enough for your taste, Mr. Moore?"

"Like you're not entitled yourself..." the butler muttered to himself.

"What was that?"

"Nothing." he coughed, before turning to the door.

Iris had perfectly heard him, but she didn't insist. So, there was still some spine left in that grumpy geezer, huh? Good to know, at least he wasn't a complete kiss-ass.

They left the Princess' chambers, and Mr. Moore guided them in the Palace's endless hallways. Iris had never understood why a tiny kingdom like Arcadia needed such a huge castle. She remembered joking about buying go-karts to get from one place to another to her father once, and the energy bill was a real stinker!

But the Princess couldn't ponder on the energy-saving practices she would implement once she would become Queen, because her Royal Butler tried to dissuade her to go along with her wedding plans while they walked towards the Palace's ballroom.

"I must ask you again to reconsider, Lady Iris," he said, worriedly. "Marrying a commoner is beneath your status, you would be wise to find a proper consort from another country."

"There aren't that many blue-blooded families left in this world, Mr. Moore. I'm likely to end up marrying a distant cousin or something. You want me to end up in an inbred marriage? No thanks!"

"Consanguinity is an issue," he admitted. "But I'm sure there are options."

"Not interested. Even current nobility outside of our borders marries commoners. The British monarchy did it not that long ago with Lady Diana and Meghan Markle, so quit it with this pure-blood nonsense."

"Yes, but I doubt the Princes from the British royal family made the kind of... In depth screening you're doing to find your own betrothed," said the old butler, looking at the folders he had in his hand with a frown of disgust.

"Well, that's because they're a bunch of pussies," shrugged Iris. "And cheaters, too! Must I remind you that the current King of Britain cheated on Lady Diana so many times she had depression and they ended up divorcing? Fuck that noise, I'm finding myself a decent man."

"A high-profile personality from abroad would also be an opportunity to forge new alliances."

"We live in the 21st-century Mr. Moore, who gives a crap about military alliances? Arcadia won't be invaded by barbarians. Our army consists of a hundred glorified cops playing around with shiny toy guns anyway."

"You shouldn't talk this way about Arcadia's ancestral military," said the butler, shocked. "They swore an oath of fealty to your family and to Arcadian values!"

Iris stopped in her tracks, starting to get annoyed by the older man's haughty attitude. She had heard her father go on and on about bullshit superior Arcadian values all her life. She wasn't going to suffer it any second longer now that she was about to be in charge.

"Oh for God's sake! We're a tax haven Mr. Moore, that's the only reason we still exist as a country!" she shouted, exasperated. "Arcadia is a safe for Russian oligarchs, Arabian petromonarchs and for every possible mafia on the planet. Our economic model is money-laundering for the rich and corrupt! And no monarch in our nation's history has pushed more for that than my dear old dad King Harold. How's that for traditional Arcadian values?"

Mr. Moore coughed uncomfortably. He couldn't deny the Princess had a point, the late King had made several fiscal reforms he had advised against for ethical and PR reasons. It had made the kingdom obscenely rich, but at the cost of its credibility on the world stage. A lot of unscrupulous foreigners who had their money locked deep in Arcadian banks were wondering if the new female Arcadian monarch intended to follow in her father's footsteps.

"I know there's rising criticism about our country's fiscal laws, but it doesn't change the fact that, once you're Queen, you'll have to be the defender of traditional Arcadian values," said the butler, soberly.

"And what values they are!" she shrieked. "Seriously, what kind of backward Constitution forces the country's ruler to marry before a certain age to rise to power? And not boys, noooooo... Only girls! Because how could a woman possibly rule a kingdom by herself? That's just some sexist bullshit right there."

"I can only second your opinion on this... hum, tricky aspect of our law," replied Mr. Moore, nervously.

""Tricky"? I'm basically being pushed into a forced marriage, I'd call that a little more than "tricky"! I'm a Princess and a future Queen, not a damn broodmare! Worst thing is my father could've changed the Constitution any time he wanted during his reign, but I guess he was too busy spending his afternoons with his golf buddies to worry about such trivial things. He always complained that I should be married at my age, as if we still lived in the Middle Ages. I bet he did it on purpose, just to fuck with me one last time from beyond the grave."

The Princess' cheeks were turning red in fury, and Mr. Moore noticed her arms and shoulders were shaking. Even at King Harold's funeral, he hadn't seen her so upset and agitated.

"I... I wouldn't presume to hypothesize on our late monarch's reasoning regarding this difficult subject," he tried to deflect.

"You don't presume because you know, Mr. Moore!" Iris insisted. "My father only had one daughter, and he'd rather have her married off to a complete stranger than to entrust his crown to her. So fuck Arcadian values! Fuck my dad! And fuck you too, for that matter!"

The Princess turned to the nearest window to hide the tears coming to her eyes. This debate had derailed on more sensitive subjects than she had anticipated. She tried to keep on a straight face, but truth was she was all over the place these days, and for good reasons. A father to bury, a husband to find, a kingdom to rule... That was a lot to tackle all at once.

Still, it wasn't fair putting the blame on Mr. Moore. Iris knew that, behind his strict outside appearance, her former tutor cared for her. He had often tried to smooth things over between her and her dad, and had even spoken in her favor on several occasions. Considering how much of a dickhead King Harold was, the old butler was almost more a parent to her than he had been. 

"I'm... sorry for my outburst," she ended up saying, still looking away from him. "And I'm sorry for insulting you. I know you've always had my best interest in mind."

Mr. Moore looked around in the hallway, relieved to see no one had witnessed their dispute. Moved by her sorrow, his hand reached for the young woman's shoulder to give her comfort, but stopped shy a few centimeters away from it. He sighed and lowered his arm.

His job wasn't to be the Princess' support, that role would fall to her future husband. He was her councillor, her butler, nothing more. She was her boss now, he couldn't overstep his prerogatives.

"You have no cause to apologize, My Lady," answered the ageing man, amicably. "You are forlorn, and this is a distressing situation."

"Thank you. Can we... Move along, then?"

"Of course, Princess," he replied, gesturing for the hallway. "Right this way."

They finally reached the ballroom, the biggest room in the Royal Palace, where a stainless glass had been installed to split the space in two. Behind it, a dozen of men were waiting in line, sitting on chairs and looking at the fancy rococo mouldings on the ceilings. As she came closer to the glass panel, Iris got confirmation they couldn't see them. It was as if they were in a police station interrogation room, which was a weird way to choose a spouse. But hell, still better than online dating!

"Can they hear us?" she asked.

"The glass is very thick. They can neither hear nor see you, My Lady. Just as you ordered."

"Perfect. Walk me through this first batch, then."

Mr. Moore pointed at the first of the line, a dashing young man in his late twenties with black hair and a short beard.

"Here is Maximilian Stewart, 28 of age. He is single, has a clean criminal record, and is in excellent health condition, which are all prerequisites to pass our screening. He is also the son of a wealthy family working in freight transport, and he has an impressive resume."

The Princess looked at him thoroughly. The young man was undoubtedly handsome, which never hurt for a potential suitor, but his face seemed familiar. Finally, it hit her.

"Oh my god, I banged that guy!" she shouted.

Thank god the glass was heavy, otherwise everyone in the ballroom would've heard her eruption.

"W... What?" asked Mr. Moore, taken aback.

"Yeah, I remember it now! We fucked at a gala in Venice a few years ago. I had too much champagne and thought, "He's cute, why the hell not"? Total disaster. He did that weird thing... How could I explain? Have you ever heard a turtle orgasm?"

"Lady Iris, what are... What are you taking about?"

"Look it up online, it's fucking weird. It's like it's having the loooongest stroke in history while cumming. Well, Maximilian here did the exact same thing! Talk about a mood killer."

"You really don't have to go into such... details, Princess," coughed the old butler, uneasy. "I gather I should mark young Mr. Stewart as a "no", then?"

"Mark him as a "Fuck no!". Yeesh, I pity that guy's future wife. Or, I don't know, maybe she'll be really into turtles," replied Iris, having a hard time refraining from laughing.

Mr. Moore scribbled on a sheet of paper, before gesturing at a sturdy young man sitting next to Maximilian.

"Let's get on to the next one," he said. "Here is Donald Ward, 23 of age."

"What's he got that the others don't?"

"Same as Mr. Steward regarding celibacy, healthiness and an absence of criminal record since you asked us to bring Arcadia's most vigorous bachelors. The little extra Mr. Ward here has is that he is our country's only World Champion. I thought he might fit your requirements."

"Wait... Arcadia has a World Champion?" Iris asked, surprised. "I never heard of him, what's he a champion of?"

"Cricket, My Lady. I've heard he's very skilled at it."

The Princess shoulders lowered, and she had a tired sigh. She knew today was going to be a trial for her nerves, but she was feeling the strong urge to get back to bed and call it quits.

"A Cricket champion..." she finally replied, shaking her head. "You want me to wed, bed and give children to a fucking Cricket champion... Jesus, I think one of my ovaries just committed suicide!"

"Alright, I'll scratch his name too," said Mr. Moore. "Then we have Tyler Jackson, 24 of age."

For the first time, the Princess stopped for a second. The young man in front of them was tall, handsome, fashionably dressed... and of black complexion.

"Okay, that's... different," said the young blonde, scratching her neck. "I'm not saying I'm against it, nor that I'm into it. Just that it's... different."

"He fits all the criterias," said the butler, reading his file. "Healthy, well-educated, and..."

"I mean, I can't tell if it's a good idea or not, you know?" Iris cut him off, mulling things over. "Interracial relationships are always a headache. Having Arcadia's new Queen's consort be a black man could be considered progressive. But... Isn't it a bit racist if I fuck him? Like, am I not playing into the "white girl with jungle fever" cliche? But then, wouldn't it be racist if I don't fuck him because I'm afraid to fall into this stereotype? What do you think, Mr. Moore?"

The old butler turned to the noble lady, completely at a loss.

"Princess, I'm a straight white man in his fifties... I have zero idea what you're talking about," he replied. "The only thing I can add to your deliberation is that you're not here to have intercourse, but to find a husband. This young man was brought here because, in addition to his celibacy and overall physical capabilities, he did a thesis on your family's dynasty."

"Wait, so he's actually a total nerd?" Iris yelled.

"A scholar!" Mr. Moore corrected her. "He went to a very prestigious Ivy League university."

"Oh my god, I am prejudiced! With the questions I asked you to put in the applications, I thought it was a BBC situation or something. I was starting to feel bad."

"What's the British Broadcasting Corporation got to do with any of this?" asked the austere butler.

"Oh, Mr. Moore, you sweet summer child, never change," the Princess joked, nudging the older man. "It's going to be tough the day you discover the internet exists."

"Anyway, I thought since Mr. Jackson here is so interested in your family he wrote a thesis about it, you and him might have things to talk about. Common interests are important."

"Great, a guy who'll want to spend our time together talking about all my dead relatives, and who's probably more interested in my grandma than in me," she sighed. "That's one way to fire up a lady, I suppose! Between that, Cricket Champion and Turtle Orgasmer over there, you really brought me the cream of the crop, Mr. Moore..."

Starting to feel discouraged, Iris turned to the next applicant and raised a surprised eyebrow.

"Okay, what the hell? Who's that fellow?" she asked, suspicious.

Mr. Moore looked at him too and had an anxious cough. What was that man doing here? He had supervised the selection procedure himself, it made no sense. That first cohort was already a disaster and the Princess was starting to get pissed, he didn't need to add insult to injury.

"There must've been an error in our process," said the butler, rummaging in his files. "Here, I got it. Let me check. Oh... Okay, I get what the problem is, here."

Mr. Moore showed the piece of paper to Iris, but her attention was still focused on the uncommon suitor in front of her. Uncommon because of how common he was. The guy sitting on the chair was just a regular middle-aged man wearing an unironed shirt and jeans. His eyes darted everywhere around him apprehensively.

He wasn't particularly ugly, but far from being handsome. His belly was bulging, he had wrinkles on his face and glasses he kept on readjusting every five seconds. His short dark hair were turning grey, and his broad hands beared the marks of manual labor. He was a total Mr. Nobody, the kind of person you could cross paths with in the street fifteen times in the same day and still be unable to remember his face.

"Bernard Murphy here is 52 years of age," said Mr. Moore, reading his paper out loud. "He's healthy for a middle-aged man, has no criminal record and he's a widower, making him single, which technically makes him fit our profile. He has a stable job as a baker in the Arcadian capital. As for the reason he's part of our top batch, it's because of the... "specific additional questions" you added to our survey."

The Princess had been disconcerted a second ago, but hearing the butler mention the requirements she had added to the questionnaires immediately piqued her curiosity. What could possibly be special about someone so ordinary-looking?

"Oh, finally some juicy details!" she giggled. "Please, elaborate!"

"I must once again stress how problematic this is," said Mr. Moore. "It's a serious invasion of privacy, we've had complaints while conducting this survey and several journals have called it an abuse of power."

"Oh, Boo-fucking-hoo, cry me a river!" Iris replied, rolling her eyes. "Every man who's enrolled did it willingly. If they believe they're good enough to marry the Princess, then they'll have to accept the fact I get a bit nosy about their business. They're all raging to invade my privacy too, aren't they?"

"Hum... Right," grunted Mr. Moore, irked by the Princess' constant sexual innuendos. "According to his file, Mr. Murphy is very... potent. You've asked to make sure your future betrothed was fertile, and this man's sperm count is amongst the highest recorded in the kingdom. Which probably explains why he is already a father of five. Furthermore, his... "proportions" are apparently above average."

The noble lady looked thoroughly at the middle-aged man they were facing, lost in thoughts. "Potent" and "Above average proportions", huh? Those were the first words to stir her interest since she entered the room.

"I must ask your forgiveness on this blunder on my part," said the Royal Butler, bowing apologetically. "I'll have him escorted out of the Palace with the rest of the suitors, and I'll apply a stricter "age appropriate" filter for the next cohort we'll welcome."

The Princess couldn't stop examining the old Mr. Murphy, who was so different from the numerous boys she had affairs with at Court — and who all had found a way to disappoint her, one way or another. That guy was no world champion, no scholar, not even a good-looking rich kid... Just a plain old widowed baker with five kids of his own, who had applied to the Princess' marriage application for God knows why, and who didn't seem to understand why he had been called in today.

Interesting. Most interesting...

"You know what... Let's try," Iris ended up saying, after a long inner deliberation. "Dismiss the others and have this one brought to my chambers."

"I must have misheard, My Lady," said Mr. Moore. "What are you saying?"

"I say he passes the first test," she nodded, before turning away from the stainless glass without so much as a look toward the other candidates. "The blokes you've gathered with your criterias are all dull, why not try my hand at something different? I'll soon be a married woman after all, it's my last time being able to experiment."

The butler followed behind her, panicking. He had known from the start this wedding process would be difficult, both because of how outdated and unethical Arcadian law was regarding female rulers, and because said female ruler was an unpredictable oddball.

"Princess, you can't possibly... This man is a blue-collared worker. He already has children, and he's more than twice your age! And to your chambers? This is... The protocol... The process... It's all..."

"He decided to apply for marrying me on his own," the 24-year-old blonde cut him off. "If you want to blame someone because you think it's "age inappropriate", blame him. We're not doing anything wrong. He's single and ready to mingle, and so am I, at least for the next few weeks."

The Royal Butler stopped walking and let all his files fall to the floor, completely stunned. Iris looked back at him and couldn't help but smile a little at seeing him so shocked. Offending her strict former tutor wasn't her intention, but it was a nice addition to her little experience!

"Come on, turn that frown upside down, Mr. Moore," said the beautiful noble lady. "Where's your sense of fairytale romance? Can't blame a Princess for trying a toad in hope he's secretly her Prince Charming, can you?"

Chapter Text

The Princess was prepping up in her changing room when she heard a shy knock on the door. She indicated it was okay to enter and Mr. Moore walked in, before turning red in a mix of embarrassment and fury when he realized the noble lady was currently half-naked and in the middle of adorning a very provocative lingerie outfit.

He almost walked out on the spot, before considering that, if that was the young woman's way of throwing him off, he wasn't going to give her the pleasure of flustering him yet again.

"Your, hum... Your guest has been brought to your chambers, My Lady," the butler said, looking toward the window.

"My Guest?" Iris replied absentmindedly, as she put on stockings on her long pale legs. "Oh, you mean the slightly overweight baker whose world I'm about to fucking ROCK in ten minutes? Thanks, Mr. Moore."

The Princess slipped on red panties before deciding on which high heels she was going to wear. All along, she didn't look in the butler's direction once. It's not that she saw him, or the rest of the Palace's servants, as people unworthy of respect or attention. It's just that she had never been particularly self-conscious about nudity. Though, when she finally looked back at him while putting on a bra, she had to admit seeing him get disturbed and have his eyes dart everywhere in the room except on her ass was priceless!

Poor old Mr. Moore, she wasn't kind with him, huh? Or maybe too kind, considering he had the privilege of seeing the pretty Princess of Arcadia undress several times a week, something a lot of her subjects would probably be jealous of. Too bad it was spoiled on someone who wasn't attracted to her...

"I must once again insist on the fact this is a bad idea, Lady Iris," said the Royal Butler. "It's not how a noble lady should behave."

"Oh, Puh-Lease!" she grunted. "When Juan Carlos, the former King of Spain, went on elephant-hunting safaris despite them being an endangered species, nobody bated an eye. But if I want to fuck a random baker, everyone loses their shit. Talk about double standards!"

"Foreign countries' controversies are of no relevance. This royal wedding and the first days of your reign are paramount! All your subjects are looking up to you, and the eyes of neighboring nations are on us. It's in those crucial hours that people will see the kind of monarch you, Queen Iris, first of her name, are going to be."

Now that the young woman was finally presentable — well, she was basically in underwear, but Mr. Moore knew it was as good as it gets — he got closer and put a friendly hand on her bare shoulder. Maybe he had gone at it wrong up until know, talking about protocol and etiquette. Maybe appealing to her good sense in an informal way would change her mind.

"Beginnings are such delicate times," he said, trying to sound supportive. "Do you even know the type of Queen you want to be, My Lady?"

Iris stopped combing her hair and pondered on her response for a few seconds. Her face was sullen, pensive, more adult, and the old butler felt like he had struck a chord.

"I think I want to be a Queen like... Cleopatra," she ended up saying, solemnly.

Mr. Moore hid a sigh of relief. At long last, the Princess was coming to her senses. She had a lot on her plate, which explained this impulsive idea of inviting a random citizen in her private quarters for god knows what scandalous activities. But she was starting to understand the weight that comes with ruling a country, the difficult choices she would have to make now that she was in charge, the strong persona she would have to project to foreign leaders to guide Arcadia towards a bright future.

"It's a good choice," nodded the butler, appraisingly. "Cleopatra was a charismatic ruler who governed her country in difficult times, you do well taking her as an example."

"And she was a blowjob GODDESS!" replied Iris, with a broad smile. "Julius Caesar even gave her the nickname "Golden Mouth" because she was exceptionally good at giving head. See, I listened to you in History class!"

The Royal Butler removed his hand from her shoulder, outraged. Oh, for heaven's sake, not again...

"W... What?" he gasped. "I most certainly did not teach you this kind of things in History class!"

"Too bad, you could've made it more interesting with some spicy historical facts sprinkled here and there," she giggled. "I mean, can you imagine? Head game so strong, scriptures and scrolls still exist to tell of how legendary it was thousands of years after your demise! Every archeologist or history-nerd in the world still knows about your amazing fellatio skills. That's some life goal right there."

Iris turned to the middle-aged man and mimicked a jerking movement next to her mouth with a wink. The poor butler was on the brink of having a heart attack.

"You can't reduce her to that," he said, mortified. "Cleopatra was the Queen of the Ptolemaic Kingdom of Egypt. She maneuvered politically so that her country remained independent from the Roman Empire. She influenced and allied with both Julius Caesar and Mark Anthony. She wasn't just some crowned head, she was a skilled political tactician!"

"...Aaaaand she was a blowjob expert," shrugged Iris. "One doesn't necessarily exclude the other, y'know? Anyway, cool lady! Definitely better than Marie Antoinette on that front."

"Queen Marie Antoinette was decapitated by the French Revolutionaries alongside her husband Louis XVI. I'm not sure I see your point."

"Well, she couldn't give good head without having one, now, could she?" smirked the Princess.

"Dark humor, very funny..." sighed Mr. Moore. "Now you're just being mean-spirited for the sake of it."

"And you're just being a prude!" she replied, mockingly. "You do realize prolonging a dynasty requires noble people to boink, right? Queen Elizabeth II of England might've looked like your average nice old grandma, but she had four kids of her own. She was probably a freak in the sheets!"

"That poor woman just passed away. Your profanities don't even deserve a response," he grimaced.

Indifferent to the Royal Butler's disapproval, Iris applied a tiny shine on her pink lips. She was almost perfect now, almost ready to meet with her potential spouse. Oh, that oblivious baker was in for one hell of a surprise! She hoped the form reporting he had a massive schlong wasn't lying.

"I know you're angry at the situation," said Mr. Moore. "But making everything silly and sexual isn't going to solve anything."

"Well, our Constitution basically considers me as a broodmare," the Princess answered, bitterly. "Who am I to prove it wrong?"

"I don't think that's what our country's founders had in mind."

"On the contrary, they absolutely did," Iris said, making her lips pop with gloss. "They wrote this law because they thought if there ever was a female heir to the throne, she would automatically need a big strong man to lead her by the hand. I suppose they thought I would be forced into a marriage with an Arcadian noble or something to have him rule while I played wifey on the sideline. Our country's founders thought of me as a brainless uterus whose only job was to pop out babies, and it seems my father agreed with them since he didn't bother to change the Constitution. Well, fuck'em, they're dead. I'll handle their stupid law the right way. My way."

Mr. Moore scratched his neck nervously. The young woman wasn't in the wrong, he had read the Arcadian Constitution several times and the text had clearly been written by people living in a completely different era.

This marriage obligation was absurd, and seeing the former sweet girl he had taught for years end up in this situation was distressing him more than he let on. The Princess had always been a wild child, unruly and capricious, but she didn't deserve what was befalling her.

"If you really want to meet that gentleman, might I propose something else?" he suggested, appeasingly. "Why not a dinner date? I could lead this Mr. Murphy to the Palace's gardens and bring you some tea to help you get to know each other."

"I don't want tea, I want the D!" the pretty blonde replied, rigidly. "This isn't Bridgerton, I don't have time to do this "three dates before first base" bullshit. I need to find a consort able to satisfy my needs in the coming weeks. If I'm to spend the rest of my days with this man, there's no way I'll doom myself to a life of bad sex."

The Princess put her bottle of gloss back on the table, before walking to the door. The butler was just left there, discomfited. He turned to see the radiant noble lady go, dressed lewdly — vulgarly, even! — to meet a low-born. What had become of the lively gentlegirl he had tutored for all these years?

"Don't do it, Iris," said Mr. Moore, almost begging her. "That man isn't just too old for you, he's a John Doe, a nobody, a commoner. You cannot judge the worth of a potential groom based on the size of his genitals! You're better than this."

The 24-year-old girl turned back, surprised to hear him speak so crudely. The Royal Butler wasn't only concerned by etiquette this time around, huh? He was genuinely worried about her, to the point of being protective.

She had to admit she liked the old serious Mr. Moore a lot more when he didn't act stuck-up. It was nice to see the person behind the mask for once, even though it didn't change her mind.

"I appreciate the sentiment, but there's no need to be crass," Iris answered, with a teasing smile. "Who knows, maybe you're talking about my future husband."

The Princess closed the door behind her, leaving the fancily dressed butler to wallow alone. Hearing him plead her not to go along with this shook her more than she would've expected. Everyone at Court saw her either as the future Arcadian ruler whom they had to respect and be deferent to, or as a potential bride able to make them part of the royal bloodline in a snap of a finger.

In both cases, they only saw the Princess, the noble lady, the late King Harold's daughter. Not Iris, the girl in her mid-twenties who had just lost a toxic father and who was legally obligated to marry a random bloke before her accession to the throne.

Except Mr. Moore...

For the first time, the stern older man had shown he didn't only care about the Kingdom's stability, but also about her well-being. Which was out of character, coming from someone so obsessed with politics and decorum. Oddly, the young woman realized it made her feel... Glad. Appreciated. Seen. Weird, where was that feeling coming from?

Iris almost changed her mind about what she was about to do. Truthfully, it was a crazy idea, even for her.

But there was more than sex to it. It was also a revenge against her dad who tried to force her hand from beyond the grave. A vengeance against the proper Arcadian values she was supposed to impersonate, but which were turning into chains around her wrists and ankles. And a massive middle finger to the sexist assholes who had written her Kingdom's laws centuries ago!

The headstrong young woman wasn't going to back down. She wasn't going to fit in the "Virgin Disney Princess" mold everyone was pushing her into. Iris was the goddamn Princess of Arcadia, the future ruler of these lands. No one was going to bully her into doing something she didn't want to do.

She had to find a husband to become Queen? So be it. Then, she was going to fuck her way through half the Kingdom if need be to find the right man! Starting with this unknowing pastry cook who had no idea what was about to hit him.

When she reached her chambers, the pretty blonde opened the door and entered with a slow seductive gait. Bernard Murphy, the 52-year-old applicant, immediately stood up from the chair he was sitting on. He tried to be as gracious as possible in the presence of his country's sovereign, but it was hard not to notice said sovereign's very revealing get-up...

"P... Princess Iris," he stuttered, bowing his head. "It's a privilege to meet you."

"The privilege's all mine. Thank you for responding to my invite, Mr. Murphy. Please, sit."

The overweight baker sat back as if he was obeying the order of a military general. His face was all red, confused by the young noble lady's lingerie, which he couldn't seem to look away from. So, it still had its little effect on men, huh? After Mr. Moore's efforts to control himself, Iris had almost come to doubt her sex-appeal.

She took a long hard look at her guest. Despite the fact he was supposedly healthy, Mr. Murphy was definitely not handsome. His shirt was badly hiding the bulging belly hidden underneath, and he had wrinkles on his forehead and around the brown eyes hidden behind his glasses. The remaining hair on his head was starting to turn grey, and his boorish hands were covered with thick body hair. He looked like any boring middle-aged family man in the realm, preoccupied by his kids' grades at school, rising taxes and tomorrow's weather.

Even in his youth, Iris would've been waaaaay out his league, and it wasn't taking into account the fact they were from completely different social classes. Considering how old he was now, the divide between them was even wider. The lovely blonde looked like an absolute angel compared to him!

She had joked about it with Mr. Moore, but it really was a "Princess and the Toad" situation; except the old baker was definitely not going to turn into Prince Charming if she kissed him. How wrong and naughty Iris felt about looking so lewd in front of a man like that, so unworthy of her noble standing...

"You've been summoned here today because you replied to the nation-wide application process to find me a Queen's consort," she said, circling around his chair. "So, what makes a widowed baker with five kids think he would be a good match for me?"

She shook her head, making her long blonde hair flow over her shoulders and her nearly transparent bra, which made her look even more sexy and utterly unattainable to a guy like him. The middle-aged man turned ever redder, embarrassed beyond measure, and Iris hid a little smile. Oh, this was going to be a lot more fun than she had anticipated!

"I'm... I'm sorry, Princess," Mr. Murphy replied, anxiously. "I didn't mean to slight you, I know I'm not fit to marry a woman like you."

"Yet you still put your name forward as a potential spouse, Bernard," Iris insisted, positioning herself behind his chair and putting one of her hand on his shoulder. "Did you do it as a joke? Do you think my marriage is a farce, my quest to find a husband futile?"

"Of course not, Your Majesty! I would never dare!"

"It's not "Your Majesty" yet, I'm still an unmarried woman," she quipped. "If you didn't apply for the fun of it, it means you did think you would make a proper consort for me. Which one is it, then?"

Bernard hesitated, his broad frame shaking in distress. Despite the fact he was nearly twice her size, he looked completely lost and subjugated. The Princess saw him clenching his fists and thought she might be going too far, torturing this innocent pastry chef like that. Oh, whatever, she would make it worth his trouble later on...

"My... My kids put me up to it," Mr. Murphy man ended up saying, sounding ashamed. "My wife passed away several years ago and I've... never really managed to move on. At first, they respected my grief, but after some time they started to tell me I shouldn't get stuck in the past. That my late wife wouldn't want me to end up alone, and that raising five children on my own was too much. They said I should start dating again, meet someone new. When the application to find you a Queen's consort was launched, they saw it as a way to... ease me into it, I suppose. But it was a dummy run, not a serious proposal! Considering my age and my occupation, we thought I would be discarded on the spot."

The 52-year-old baker sighed deeply, relieved to have revealed his secret. Iris patted his shoulder, as if to thank him for his honesty.

So, he was just a lonely widower trying to get back on his feet, huh? She had wondered if he was some old perv trying his chance at the "Princess wedding lottery", but his story was actually sweet. It didn't mean she had any intention of letting him off the hook that easily, though. On the contrary, the whole thing was getting... interesting.

"So it means you don't think of me as a serious potential partner?" asked the Princess, falsely pouting. "Here I am, putting myself out there and doing my best to find a proper man, and you use my application process as practice to get back on the dating scene. I know you miss your wife dearly, but, I don't know... Don't you think I deserve a chance?"

Mr. Murphy turned to her, dumbfounded. When he had been brought here, he had feared he would get reprimanded, that his proposal was considered a crime of Lese-majesty by the Royal Palace. He thought he would be sent away with a fine or some community service. But now, the Arcadian Princess was acting as if he was blowing her off. What the hell was happening?

"W... What? No, that's not what I'm saying, My Lady!"

"Am I not pretty enough for you, Bernard?" Iris kept on going, sounding almost desperate. "Don't you think I could make a good wife?"

"Nonsense, you're a beautiful woman, Princess!" he replied, baffled. "Any man would be lucky to have such a... a splendid young lady as his bride."

His sincere reaction made Iris smile and she walked in front of his chair. The old baker now had a perfect view of her shapely bottom.

"You say that, yet you didn't take your application to marry me seriously," she insisted, feigning outrage. "Is it because you think I wouldn't be fit to raise your kids? That I would make a lousy spouse? That I'm lacking... somewhere else?"

To emphasize her point, the fair Princess slowly lowered her thin panties down her legs. All along, she looked directly in Mr. Murphy's eyes, pulling out her tongue cheekily.

She blushed a little, realizing she was flashing her private parts to a man she had met less than five minutes ago. It was far from being the first time Iris acted this brashly. She had affairs with numerous young men at Court, and she had always enjoyed fooling around. But this time was different.

She wasn't stripping for the son of some Duke or for the pretentious heir of a multinational company. Only for a regular pastry chef who happened to be nearly three decades older than she was. And it felt so much lewder and more outrageous than anything she had done with entitled rich kids!

She was debasing herself in front of a fat middle-aged dad unworthy of her, as if she was an erotic dancer or a prostitute he had hired. It was unbelievably humiliating, Iris certainly didn't feel like a Princess or a noble lady right now! Which was precisely what she had been aiming for...

"Good Lord... No, you're not lacking, My Lady," said Mr. Murphy, mesmerized. "You're not lacking anywhere."

"What is it, then?" she pleaded, shaking her butt provocatively. "What makes it that I'm not good enough for you?"

"It's not that. In fact, you're way too good for someone like me!" the older man replied, while his hands tensed on the armrests of his chair. "I can't... I cannot become your King, that would be ludicrous!"

"The Queen's consort, not the King," she corrected him. "And you shouldn't sell yourself short, Bernard. You raised five kids on your own, wouldn't you say it makes you more than fit to father the offsprings of the Arcadian royal bloodline?"

Mr. Murphy's eyes widened when Iris mentioned the "fathering of offsprings". To do that, it would mean they would first have to... Him, and the incredibly attractive woman in front of him. Dressed in sultry lingerie, her luscious ass only an arm's length away from him, after all those years living in celibacy. Holy shit, was he dreaming? If so, he didn't want to wake up.

"I wouldn't be so sure," the husky baker said, his voice getting shakier. "You're almost my eldest daughter's age. It feels wrong."

He gulped down. The situation was getting out of hand, but maybe he wouldn't mind if it derailed some more...

"Oh, really?" said Iris, curious to add a layer of depravity to this already wicked setting. "I thought you only had toddlers and teenagers. Where's your daughter now?"

"She's studying abroad. Last time I saw her, she brought a guy home to introduce him to her siblings and to me."

"A new face in the family, huh? How did it feel? I know dads can get protective with their daughters. No one's ever good enough for their little girl, right?"

"I'm not like that, I trust her judgement," answered Mr. Murphy, troubled to talk about sensitive family matters with a semi-naked Princess. "And he seemed like a decent fellow."

"Trusting and not overprotective," nodded Iris. "You're scoring more and more points in my book, Bernard! Then, what would you say if the next time your daughter comes back, you're the one to introduce her to your new wife? To her step-mom who's a girl about her age and also the country's Queen. How's that for a new face in the family?"

The Princess arched her back forward, making her nude ass even more visible to the overweight man. She went as far as slapping one of her buttcheeks, showcasing how soft and plump it was.

For a second, Mr. Murphy imagined what she had just described: him bringing an nubile young woman such as her home. The surprise on his kids face, on his old crone of a neighbor's face, to his coworkers in the bakery. Despite having conflicted feelings about it, this outrageous idea really got him going!

The older man fidgeted nervously in his chair and his stare began to change. He didn't look at Iris as the Arcadian monarch anymore, but as a very persuasive temptress. Her little game was working wonders.

"I mean, a guy like me with a foxy lass like you by his side. That would be... That'd be quite something!" he finally replied, barely containing his excitement.

No more "My Lady" or "Princess", huh? Where was the courteous way a commoner like him should address her?

The 52-year-old man was losing his footing, and Iris absolutely loved it. She had made the head of a lot of boys spin, but never that of a man so far out of her social class and age group. It made the whole thing different, because Mr. Murphy wasn't only desiring someone he lusted after, but a woman who should be completely out of his reach. It made his attraction more feverish, almost feral.

The Princess had never been as desired as this before. No one had ever wanted to fuck her as much as this father of five did in this instant! This situation aroused her too. To think she could ignite something so powerful in someone was making her hotter by the second.

She was acting like a wanton whore, but at least this unknown stranger wasn't after her for her money or status. Bernard Murphy wanted her because he was turned on by her, her princesshood had nothing to do with it. Iris needed to show her gratitude for his undeceptive inclination towards her, and she knew exactly how to do that...

"What about your friends and neighbors?" she said, while removing her bra and kneeling reverently in front of him. "Can you imagine how they'd react, once you introduce them to your hot noble wife? You could brag about having sex with a girl in her twenties at your age, and the Kingdom's Princess to boot! Think about how jealous they'd all be..."

The pastry cook was stunned by how backward the situation was. She was the Arcadia's Princess, he should have been the one kneeling in front of her, not the other way around! Yet, Iris noticed her docile posture made something twitch in his brown pants. Something hard...

"Christ, I heard rumors, but I never thought you were such a naughty girl!" he said. "Feels like a deal with the Devil, but where do I sign?"

And there it was. Hook, line, and sinker! Iris had caught herself one fine catch...

"I suppose it means you're interested in little ol' me, in the end?" she asked, innocently. "Did I change your mind about making your application to wed me real?"

"Yes," replied Mr. Murphy, eagerly. "A thousand times yes! What do I have to do to hit tha... To prove my worth?"

The Princess suddenly noticed the middle-aged man was still wearing his ex-wife's ring. For years, he had been faithful to her memory and chaste in his relationships with the opposite sex. And it had only taken Iris a few shakes of her butt to change his mind? Oh, she liked that guy! She liked his enthusiasm and his honesty. He really knew how to make her feel special...

"Well, my father isn't here to choose who I give my hand to anymore, so I get to decide that on my own. And there was a detail written in your application that caught my eye. A big detail..." Iris said, with a sinful smile.

The pretty blonde put both her hands on his kneecaps, slowly making them move up on the inside of his sturdy thighs. Mr. Murphy was caught off guard, before connecting the dots.

"So those weird questions in the form were yours?" he snickered. "I found it weird when they took my measurements down there, but it's all clear now. It's the reason you brought me here, despite our age gap and everything, isn't it? You are one bad, bad girl, Princess!"

"Careful how you talk to me now, Bernard..." Iris replied, slyly. "If you lied on your resume, I might change my mind. There still are a few medieval cells in the Palace's basements I can throw you in, you know?"

"I'm no liar. But how about you find out for yourself, little hussy?"

Insults now? The blue-collar worker was getting cocky! Hopefully, he had reason to be...

He didn't move an inch to prove his words, letting the 24-year-old girl reach out and remove his belt by herself. His grin widened when she unzipped his fly and lowered his trousers. Oof, even hidden under his briefs, the shape was... hefty. Iris slowly took off his underpants, and when it almost jumped to her face, she couldn't help but gasp.

"Holy FUCK!" she shouted. "I've never seen a thing like that! There was that business type guy I humped in Berlin a few years ago who I thought was pretty big. But this is... Another level!"

The Princess took it in her hand, feeling how warm and hard it was. She inspected its protuberant veins, its thickness, the way it slowly pulsated in her palm. That monstrosity was close to the size of her forearm, and the bush of dark pubes it emanated from made it look like a wild beast venturing to the edge of a wood. Its sheer length and weight made it frightening, almost aggressive.

But Iris only smiled in delight. With how stressful the past few weeks had been with this royal wedding nonsense, it was relaxing to experience something as simple and straightforward as holding the largest COCK she had ever seen in her life!

"So, what do you say, Princess?" asked Mr. Murphy, thrilled to see the noble lady's fascination for his manhood. "Do I pass your test?"

Iris was kneeling before the fat baker as if the chair he was sitting on was a throne. Considering the grin on his face, he quite enjoyed how the tables were turned on the noble lady.

When he woke up this morning, anxious at the idea of being summoned at the Royal Palace for what he thought would be a scolding for his candidacy, Bernard certainly hadn't anticipated he would end up with the future Arcadian Queen stroking his dick on bended knees while wearing slutty lingerie. That wasn't an outcome his kids had anticipated when they told him to put his name forward, but he would need to thank them nonetheless. Their dad was on top of the world right now!

Feeling the heavy piece of meat twitch in her hand, the Princess understood the middle-aged man was getting a kick out of seeing her so lewd and dishonored. The shy widower she had met when entering the room was turning into a bold jerk!

Iris knew she could stand up and remind him of who he was facing. That, with a single word, she could have him escorted out of the Palace and have his business confiscated from him. Even in this situation, she held all the power. She could squash this pathetic workingman like a bug if she wanted to.

But fuck power, fuck nobility, fuck courtliness. Right now, the young blonde didn't care about such trivial things. She had been right trying something outside of her comfort zone. The obscenity of the situation was turning her on like crazy. The past weeks had been tough, she could allow herself one good hard fuck to unwind, couldn't she?

"With flying colors!" she replied, giggling. "Lucky you, you get to fuck the Princess! And — who knows? — if you fuck her well enough, you might get to do it for the rest of your days..."

"Then I'll do my best," growled Mr. Murphy. "Will you do the honors, My Lady?"

Iris fully understood what he meant. What this ageing and balding pastry chef was asking a noble lady his daughter's age to do. And, heedlessly, she obeyed...

She took the tip of his cock between her lips and her tongue darted to take a first quick lick off his glans. This simple gesture was enough to shake his broad stature with a small tremor. Mr. Murphy hadn't felt the touch of a woman in a long time, it was clear to see. Poor lonely man.

It was a Princess' role to look after the well-being of her subjects, wasn't it? Then Iris would make him forget about his grief, about his work problems, about the burden of raising five children on his own. She would make him forget just about anything except how badly he wanted to screw her!

"Hold on to your socks, Bernard!" she said, jerking his cock and starting to lick it from top to bottom. "I have a score to settle with an Egyptian Queen about which one of us deserves a certain nickname the most..."

Chapter Text

Iris was having a grand time. A fabulous time!

She discovered in her late teens that sex was a fun activity, and that she had a significant predisposition towards it. Yet, once the thrill of discovery waned, she rarely found partners who met her criteria.

Being born with a silver spoon in their mouths, the boys at Court were arrogant and narcissistic. They boasted about their supposed sexual prowesses which, Iris had found, were barely average. As for the foreigners she met during travels abroad, they were petrified by her social status. Once they discovered she was Arcadia's Princess, they touched and handled her as if she was a frail doll made of porcelain. That too, didn't exactly tickle her fancy...

Was it too much to ask to find someone who didn't consider intercourse with her either as a misogynistic conquest or as a gift descended from heaven? She needed someone who was confident enough to handle her like a woman, not as royalty. Maybe Iris was too picky. Or maybe the thing she was looking for was in short supply, who knows?

Thankfully, Mr. Murphy wasn't in short supply of anything! His proportions were copious and bountiful, to put it mildly. Considering how dull and ordinary the middle-aged man looked, the noble lady had a hard time believing he had the most scandalously large penis she'd ever seen. When she finally put it inside her mouth and noticed she could barely fit the tip inside, she realized she might have bitten more than she could chew...

Yet, the idea of doing it with something that big didn't frighten her. On the contrary, as she tried to gulp his shaft down further, Iris couldn't help but smile and give a playful stare at the old pastry cook.

Finally, a challenge!

"Christ, I can't believe this is really happening," Bernard grunted, while removing his glasses to admire the beautiful blonde at work. "You look stunning, Lady Iris. Like an absolute angel."

"I bet you say that to all the princesses who give you blowjobs!" she joked. "I didn't picture you as a silver-tongued devil, Bernard."

"You are the silver-tongued devil, girl! Fuck, it's so good to feel that little thing run around my cock."

His compliments made Iris double her efforts on his manhood, making a suction motion on his glans and licking it from top to bottom longingly. She didn't know why, but she reaaa~~~lly wanted to see him fly off the handle, more so than any of her previous partners. Which was weird, considering the 52-year-old baker was, by far, the least attractive man she ever had sex with.

He looked a bit pathetic with his brown pants down around his ankles, and he was still wearing his crumpled shirt and his cheap shoes. The only thing that was unveiled aside from his cock were his thighs. They were enormous, nearly the size of her own torso, beefy and as heavy as tree trunks.

While she kept on bobbing her head up and down on him, Iris started to run her fingers on his laps, feeling her nails navigate in the midst of his dark body hair. She knew men turned more hairy as time went on, but she had never been with someone who had such mass and that many body hair. Bernard kind of had grizzly bear vibe to him.

It made him stray even further away from the textbook "handsome, dark-haired man with a six-pack" most women were into, but Iris kind of dig it. Mr. Murphy wasn't sexy, but manual labor made him rough, more rugged and stout than the boys she usually hung out with. Despite his age, his large body projected a sense of brute unrefined strength. And the 24-year-old girl had to admit she didn't find unarousing to feel small and frail while kneeling submissively in front of this force of nature...

"I can't believe a blue-blooded woman like you is doing something this lewd with a guy like me," he said. "How did you come to do this kind of... of..."

Bernard wasn't able to finish his sentence, probably both because he didn't want to say something that might offend his future sovereign, and because said sovereign's mouth was busy at the moment... The beautiful blonde was licking all over his glans while giving him the dirtiest doe eyes he'd ever seen. He couldn't help but tremble while holding on firmly to the armrests of his chair.

His reaction made Iris chortle on his cock. Sucking on something this massive and rigid was getting her aroused, but seeing this run-of-the-mill dad get both conflicted and horny about receiving a sloppy blowjob from a girl like her was a nice addition to the mix. Carnal pleasures were fun, but a tiny pinch of taboo went a long way to make it better...

"The Princess life is a bore," Iris ended up saying, removing the tip of his cock from her mouth and jerking it with both hands. "It's the same for rich kids all over the word. We're spoon-fed from the day we're born, everything's given to us on a silver platter. I know it sounds good on paper, but it has drawbacks. We don't undergo any struggle, don't experience any longing... Fuck, we're bored to death! So we find stuff that'll make us feel alive. For me, it's sex, but most of my peers simply do drugs. Frankly, I much prefer being a sex-addict than ending up in rehab. It's a lot more fun."

"No struggle, no money trouble... Poor little you!" Bernard frowned. "Try raising five kids on a single income. See if it makes you "feel alive", as you say."

"Oh, I know I'm an entitled girl who doesn't know how rough and hard life is," Iris replied, smirking. "You have every right to remind me of that. Can you think of aaa~~~~ny way you could teach me that lesson, Mr. Murphy?"

The balding baker saw the mischief in her eyes. He couldn't refuse a lady's invitation now, could he? Hence, he put his oversized cock back in the 24-year-old blonde's mouth and started to make slow movements with his waist to penetrate it.

He didn't go at it too hard, not wanting to harm the radiant Princess kneeling in front of him, but his manhood was so thick and large that Iris felt it pummel her gullet nonetheless.

She didn't try to flee and let this age-inappropriate man she met merely fifteen minutes ago have his way with her mouth as much as he wanted. She only looked at him straight in the eyes, gagging obscenely on his dick to arouse him more.

"Fuck, you have no idea how hot you look while choking on my meat, Princess..." Bernard muttered, his whole body tensed from excitement.

Iris took his cock out and caressed it to coat it with the saliva she had left on the tip. Damn, even with her best efforts, she wasn't even able to take it halfway through... She wasn't going to best Cleopatra that easily, huh?

"Your file wasn't lying," she chuckled. "Look at that monstrosity, it barely fits in my mouth!"

"Yeah, sorry about that. Most women I met in my youth were frightened by it and didn't want to do oral. Even when my wife accepted to do it, she wasn't able to take it any further than you do."

"Well, I'm a Princess, I should be better than a baker's wife — no offense to your deceased spouse, of course. Think I'll need some help if I want to fit it all inside, though."

"Fit it all inside..." the older man repeated, confused. "My Lady, you don't mean... ?"

"You perfectly know what I mean," said the pretty blonde, with a naughty smile. "Now, Mr. Murphy, hold on to my head and facefuck me until I've reached the hilt! Chop chop!"

The fat pastry chef's eyes opened wide. Despite how straightforward Iris' invitation was, he rose from his chair and retreated a few steps away from her. He went as far as to hide his erect manhood behind his big calloused hands as is he was concealing a weapon of mass destruction. Which... was only half wrong, let's give him that.

"Lady Iris, I... I don't think this is a good idea," he replied, nervously.

"Your Princess and future Queen commands it!" the young blonde insisted. "Don't tell me I have to beg one of my subjects for something like that. I thought you'd be into it. Did you find my oral skills that bad?"

To entice him and test his resolve, Iris put a finger inside her mouth and moved it around, showing the middle-aged dad what he was missing. It hit the mark. She saw his Adam's apple twitch because of how hard he was gulping down.

"It's not that. You're great and I'd be very... hum, "honored", for lack of a better word," he replied, with a coarse voice. "It's just that I never did something like that before. I don't want to harm you, Princess."

Mr. Murphy's words were meant to dissuade her, but they had the opposite effect. So it meant no woman ever had managed to take that thing fully? It made Iris want to have a crack at it even more...

"Well, it's either that or I sentence you to death. How about that?" she said, raising an imperious eyebrow.

"Wh... WHAT!?" the poor baker stuttered. "But... Arcadia doesn't have the death penalty anymore. It hasn't for nearly a century!"

"I can always change the law when I become Queen," the beautiful blonde replied nonchalantly, while walking toward him on all fours. "Once I ascend the throne, I'll make a decree allowing me to behead slightly overweight middle-aged bakers with five kids, have your head on a spike, then change the law back three days later. Simple as that."

The 52-year-old man looked at her in a mix of fear and surprise. She was joking around, right? It sounded more like a prank than anything, but... he didn't know the Princess all that well. Could Arcadia's future ruler actually be a tyrant? A woman insane enough to do something like this?

"You wouldn't..." he replied, white as a sheet.

"Oh, wouldn't I?" Iris giggled, while pulling his hands away from his penis. "I mean, when in History has a ruler with absolute power without checks and balances abused their authority for bullshit personal reasons? Can't you think of a few times that happened?"

The older man was completely stock-still, which left her the occasion to tease him a little. She started licking and kissing his testicles softly while speaking. They were quite heavy, the poor guy was pent-up.

"For example, the great Shaka Zulu, king of the Zulu kingdom, was so sad when his mom died that he declared a national mourning period," she explained scholarly, all while working his ballsack. "He had 7,000 people executed because they weren't sad enough about her death! He had cows slaughtered so that their calves would know what losing a mother felt like. He even forbade his people from having sex for a whole year. Any woman who became pregnant during this time was killed along with her husband. I mean... I know moms are important, but come on! Imagine if I did that shit in Arcadia because my dad passed."

"Wait, are you... sure that happened?" said Mr. Murphy, increasingly confused. "That sounds made up."

"Look it up, historical fact. There's also Henry VIII who beheaded two of his wives out of spite because they didn't give him a male heir, and they were of noble birth. So if I decide to go absolutely postal when I turn Queen and that my only transgression is to have you executed, the populace should consider itself lucky. Who's gonna cry over the death of a random baker, anyway? Heads will roll if I don't give you head, that's all I'm sayin'."

Mr. Murphy finally understood the Princess was messing with him. He had a sigh of relief and Iris was pleased to notice his cock hadn't softened at all despite his scare.

"Yeah... Alright, point taken," he admitted, with a small chuckle. "The only way to save my neck is to hold on to yours until you swallow me whole, is that it? I have no alternative but to comply?"

"Finally, you're getting the picture," Iris smiled. "You're not doing anything wrong if your Princess is the one ordering you to do it. And I'm definitely ordering you to do it!"

She pointed at her opened mouth with her finger and pulled her tongue out provocatively.

"Now, abuse my mouth, or I'll abuse my power. I give you head, or it's off with your head. Choice is yours, what's it gonna be?"

The 52-year-old baker put his broad hand on the noble lady's head, caressing her golden hair gently. Then, as if a flip had switched in his mind, his hold turned firm and commanding. He took his cock in his hand from the balls and started rubbing its tip on her lips, preparing her for what was coming.

He had tried to hold control over himself up until now, but if he was asked — Nay, ordered! — to let go and enjoy himself, he wasn't going to refuse.

"It's the first time a woman makes a death threat for me to have sex with her..." Mr. Murphy said, grinning. "Gotta admit, that's kind of hot."

His cock was throbbing, pulsating with repressed lust. It had been a long time since the Princess had seen a man so incredibly excited to get it on with her. That made her all the more aroused.

"Now you're getting it, Bernard," Iris replied, while giving a little peck on the tip of his cock.

Oh, he wasn't the one about to get it...

Now that he had a clear conscience, the overweight chef took control of the situation in an instant. He pushed his broad cock back inside the noble lady's mouth with a powerful movement of his waist, making her stammer muffled noises in surprise.

He already reached far earlier, but this time, he held on to the top of her head dominantly, maintaining her in place as he repeated the process a second time. Then a third, a fourth, a fifth... Until he lost count and completely abandoned himself to the pleasure of facefucking the most beautiful woman in the Arcadian kingdom.

"God, take it!" he grunted, unable to keep his eyes from her. "Since you wanted this dick so much, fucking take it you little nympho!"

Iris would have usually found it endearing to hear her sexual partner get so turned on that he would throw any decorum toward her noble standing out the window. But her thoughts were overwhelmed by what her poor mouth was being subjected to, she couldn't focus on anything else.

She tried to overextend her jaw as much as she could, yet Mr. Murphy's cock was still so big that she felt like she was being ravaged! When his strong pounding became too much, her gag reflex finally gave up and she felt him plunge deep inside her throat.

The older man growled in pleasure at seeing parts of his penis that had never disappeared suddenly vanish into the beautiful Princess' mouth. Iris felt him reach depths of her trachea that had never been explored before. She was ingesting over and over his enormous piece of hot and thudding meat. God, she had never choked on so much DICK!

His pounding was savage. A bit unpleasant at times, to be honest. But, mostly, it was excruciatingly arousing! Iris lowered her hand to her crotch and started caressing her clitoris vigorously, focusing her mind on the rigid cock delving ever deeper inside her. When he finally pushed her head down to the hilt, Mr. Murphy had a triumphant and almost animal-like snarl.

"Fuck... Your mouth is pure bliss, Princess!" he praised, holding her face firmly against his belly. "I never met a woman with oral skills such as yours. I'd love to become your husband and get to do this on a daily basis. The guy who'll end up on the throne next to you is one lucky bastard!"

Mr. Murphy started moving her head up and down on his shaft carelessly, focusing on his sole pleasure, as if he had the intimate conviction he wouldn't be the chosen candidate. That right now would be his only chance to experience what it felt like to have royalty humbly kneel in front of him to let him fuck their mouth at his leisure, and that he needed to make the most of it.

Iris didn't mind him getting a bit selfish and forceful, it only added fuel to the fire between her legs. Her mouth was now a swiveling mess of drool and precum, and her tastebuds sent sparks and jolts of satisfaction to her brain. Yet, when she felt the older man's cock start to twitch, she gave a friendly little tap on his hairy thigh.

"Forgive me, My Lady," Mr. Murphy said, letting go of her immediately. "Did I go too far?"

"No it's... *Cough*... It's okay," the young blonde said, catching her breath. "I just felt you getting close. I wouldn't want for you to be spent already. Blowjobs are fun and all, but I want to go further than foreplay."

Bernard held on to his penis, now soaked with royal saliva, as if it was a loaded gun about to... Well, unload. Iris stopped him at the last second, she was edging him like crazy! It wasn't her intention, yet it did feel pretty naughty to have his orgasm in the palm of her hand.

"Hum, well I... I can go more than once," he replied, gripping his cock firmly. "Especially considering how long it's been..."

"Really?" Iris said, pleasantly surprised. "Then, by all means, go for it if you're up for round two afterward."

The 52-year-old man didn't need to be told twice. He had been so on edge that he came the second she authorized him to.

He was too far gone to ask the how, the when, and the where. He instinctively unloaded on the kneeling Princess' face, jerking himself to completion and sending stream after stream of his thick sperm on her adorable nose, her elegant eyelashes and her rose lips. He hadn't gotten some action in so long that Iris felt the weight of his cum on her skin. It was her first time receiving such a nasty facial!

"Fuuuuuck... That's a good girl..." Mr. Murphy grunted, his broad frame shaking from relief. "Get it all, you little slut."

Iris' line of sight was completely obstructed by the colossal phallus erupting in front of her. It was a mesmerizing sight to behold, and the movement of her fingers on her crotch didn't slow down one bit.

She knew she should feel slighted this man she just met didn't have the common decency to ask whether or not it was okay to discharge his load on her face as if it had been a tissue. It wasn't even about treating her like a princess, but with the basic respect owed to a fellow human being. Furthermore, it wasn't every day a sexual partner of hers dared call her a "slut"! Most barely had the courage to call her by her first name.

But she found Mr. Murphy's genuine excitement endearing. Having this unhandsome man who didn't deserve her in the slightest treat her as some kind of porn star or as a prostitute he hired for the night was making her feel delightfully nasty! 

"Fuck, I never thought I'd ever cover the Arcadian Princess with my cum," he said when he was done, not even apologizing for his affront. "This is... This is insane! I wish I could burn this moment into my brain."

"What, you want to keep a souvenir?" Iris giggled.

"Don't joke, My Lady," said the old pastry cook, falling onto the chair which creaked under his weight. "I could hold you up on that!"

The Princess removed the strings of semen glued to her eyelids to see better. Considering how thick they were, her face was probably looking like a complete mess right now. A mess she was actually a bit eager to immortalize...

"And what if it's not a joke?" the noble lady replied, slyly. "You have a cellphone, right?"

"You must be kidding..."

"Quick, before I change my mind!"

Bernard hurriedly took his phone out of his pant's pocket and opened the camera app. His eyes widened when he saw the picture he was about to take, but his cock twitched and hardened again at what he witnessed on the screen.

"Are... Are you sure about that, My Lady?" he asked, turning pale.

Oh, now he was asking for permission? Where was that courtesy when the middle-aged dad had splattered her face with a good decade's worth of suppressed urges while calling her sexual slurs?

"Do it, Bernard," Iris said, looking up at him and pulling out her tongue to make the money shot even nastier. "Take a proof of the sorry mess you've made of a Princess who's barely older than your own daughter."

The baker's cock quivered again at her raunchy comment, and he finally snapped a picture.

"I've never seen something so beautiful in my entire life," he mumbled, awestruck.

"So, do I look like wife material?" inquired the young blonde.

"Definitely not!" he chortled. "Or... I don't know, the best wife in the world. Depends on who you're asking."

He turned the phone toward Iris and even she was surprised by how indecent and unladylike she looked in it. She absolutely loved it!

"Well, I'm asking you," she kept on going. "Would you want your future hot bride to look like that?"

Mr. Murphy was still torn about how he should address his future sovereign and potential spouse, but it was hard to keep his head cool with how wanton the Princess was acting. Hard to remain unruffled while droplets of his sperm were slowly falling from the pretty blonde's chin onto her perky tits.

"Fuck... I'd make you look like this every morning if I was wed to you, Iris," he replied, meaning every single word.

The young Princess had a merry smile, pleased to see he was finally letting go of the obsequious politeness she'd grown tired of. She couldn't stand being surrounded by the Court's sycophants anymore. Even Mr. Moore, her closest advisor, always behaved like this. But she had come to learn a lustful man wasn't able to keep up appearances, he always ended up revealing who he was behind the mask...

And Mr. Murphy was proving to be one nasty motherfucker! But one whose boasts weren't dishonest, considering his raging hard on indicated he hadn't lied when he said he would be up for round two.

An odd thought wandered into the Princess' mind. She wondered what Mr. Moore would look like in such a situation. How would he act if he was as sexually aroused as the overweight pastry cook was, right now? It was hard to picture, considering how consistently uptight he was. But he must have had flings and affairs in the past. Some women had probably seen this secret side of him. It made her a bit curious...

Anyway, that old boring butler wasn't important right now. Iris stood up and went to her desk, taking a tissue to remove the muck off her face. When she was done, she went to her bed and laid suggestively on the white linen sheets. She turned her head toward her guest, hinting at the fact the hors d'oeuvres were over, and that the time for the main dish had come...

Mr. Murphy was captivated by how magnificent she looked. He removed his shirt and took a few steps to get closer, standing in front of her in all his height and mass. Many men had come into Iris' chambers and into her bed, but none had felt so out of place here than Mr. Murphy did right now. His belly was bulging from a lifetime spent baking and eating too many sweets, and his hairy thighs were so thick they could have belonged to an ox.

He was a lot different than the pretty boys she usually invited here. Uglier, that's for sure, but also more... masculine. She heard some girls say they were into "dad bods", but she never saw the appeal. Yet... Yeah, there definitely was something going on here. Not the typical kind of sexy, but something rougher and wrong.

King Harold was aware of the fact his daughter regularly brought men in her private chambers, and Iris made it as obvious as possible because she knew it made him livid. But if he knew she would one day summon a brutish and unhandsome commoner like that here... Yikes, he would've had that fatal cardiac arrest ages ago!

Oddly, it made Iris want to do it even more. Now that her father was gone, he couldn't judge her. He couldn't stop her from doing anything she wanted, no matter how depraved!

The King wanted for her to become a prude housewife devoid of political power? Well, she was going to be an almighty Slut Queen! The King wanted for her to find a wealthy and noble groom? Well, she was going to fuck a random commoner old enough to have sired her!

Fuck her dad, Iris was the one in control now. Of her country, of her body, of her destiny! And if she wanted to see it all crash and burn in the mightiest fire Arcadia had ever seen, it would be her choice, and hers alone to make.

"Hope you're ready for what's coming, Bernard," the beautiful noble lady said, opening her long pale legs for him. "And you're in luck. I'm on the pill, and since you just got a check-up proving you don't have any STD, you'll get to fuck your fairy-tale Princess raw..."

Chapter Text

Mr. Murphy came onto the bed, making it squeak under his weight. He looked at the gorgeous blonde girl and started jerking his immense cock slowly.

"Could you turn around please, Princess?" he asked.

"You don't even want to face me while having sex?" Iris said, falsely offended. "That's not very polite for our first time together, Bernard. And me who thought you and I were hitting it off."

"Because you're the romantic type yourself?" he chortled. "I met you less than an hour ago, and I already have a picture of you receiving a facial on my phone. Don't reverse the roles, I'm not the naughty one here, you are."

"Fair point," she nodded, before turning around and presenting her curvy little butt to the pastry chef. "Guess I'll have to stomach having my first time with my potential spouse in doggy style, then. You're certainly not making me feel like a princess."

"Yes, and I'm starting to understand that might be what you're looking for."

"Bright boy," the noble lady smiled.

Iris pushed her hips backward to feel his erect penis rub between her buttcheeks. It was incredibly hard, she couldn't wait to feel it inside.

"You've got a raging hard-on, old man," she teased. "It's like my blowjob had no effect on you at all, I'm hurt in my pride."

"You shouldn't, Princess. The reason I'm this hard after coming once is because of how badly I want to fuck you. You have no idea the things I dream of doing to this marvelous ass."

"Then what are you waiting for?" Iris replied, biting her lower lip. "By all means, give me some idea..."

The fat baker didn't need to be told that twice. He took his large penis in his hand and used its tip to tease her clitoris and caress her vulva from top to bottom to lubricate it. As if that was necessary, considering how wet Iris was down there. But hey, she appreciated the effort. Furthermore, the sensation of something this erect moving over her intimate parts was turning her on a lot.

Finally, Mr. Murphy pushed himself inside her, making her tremble in delight. Iris had been in dire need of a good shag for weeks now, and this one was proving to be extraordinary! Good things come to those who wait.

"Your pussy's so soft, Princess," Bernard grunted, pulling his cock in and out of her to feel it envelop him again and again. "It's like it's made of satin and silk, I never felt something like this before."

"You dirty flatterer," she giggled. "My opinion is you haven't been inside a woman in a long time, especially a younger one. You simply forgot how nice it feels."

"True, the last time I had sex was with my ex-wife," the middle-aged man said, mesmerized at the sight of his cock disappearing inside his future Queen. "Didn't think I missed it this much."

"Oh, so your last pussy was the one you bred five kids into? Should I be worried?"

"Not at all," he chuckled. "My wife... Uhm, ex-wife, simply wanted us to have big family."

The old baker was cute, reminiscing like this, but Iris wanted more than some gentle and nostalgic lovemaking. Bernard seemed afraid of hurting her with his oversized cock, but she wanted him to really give it to her. Since he wasn't taking matters into his own hands, she'd do it for him.

The pretty blonde princess started pushing her butt backward, impaling her pussy on his large penis repeatedly. Each time, it reached a little deeper. She never had something this thick inside her before, the feeling was absolutely fantastic.

"And do you think you'd be able to do it all over again?" Iris asked, looking back at him with a taunting smile. "Do you reckon you'd manage to breed five additional kids inside my tight, little Princess pussy with that big dick of yours, Bernard?"

"Jesus, you're insane," the pastry cook replied, but she felt his dick throb inside her nonetheless. "I got half a mind to do it now."

"Of course you do," she insisted, moving her ass quicker. "You're such a perv that you enjoy pounding the pussy of a girl nearly your daughter's age, and I bet you'd love to creampie it too. Don't you want to creampie your country's unmarried Princess, Bernard?"

The tall old man put his hands on either side of her waist. He didn't guide her movements yet, but Iris felt his grip tighten. He was afraid to take control, but he clearly wanted to.

"Stop staying stuff like that, girl," Mr. Murphy said, getting increasingly tensed. "You're gonna make me lose my mind."

"That'd be too bad," Iris smirked. "I'd hate to see you get rough with little old me...."

"Oh, you damn little brat. You asked for it!"

Once again, the young blonde found the right words to make him go berserk. Bernard put his large callous hand in her golden hair and pushed her head down on the cotton sheets of her bed. He grabbed her arm to keep her in place and started drilling his enormous cock inside her, hammering her poor butt without restraint.

Iris couldn't help but moan loudly. Fuck, it was so big! Nothing ever reached this deep before. And size wasn't the only thing that excited her. The pastry cook was ramming his full weight into her from behind, she was completely pinned and dominated.

"Is that what you want, you horny little slut?" the middle-aged man grunted, losing his temper. "A guy you don't even know using his fat dick to pummel you into your fancy mattress? I'm old enough to be your dad for Christ's sake, and yet you're begging me to flood your aristocratic pussy to the fucking BRIM! Don't come crying when I oblige."

"Ah, yes! That's it, that's what I needed!" Iris cried, her whole body quivering from overstimulation. "Don't you dare hold back, Bernard! Show me how it's done in the slums!"

"In the "slums"?" the pastry cook replied, offended. "I'm raising a family, Lady Iris, I don't live in a slum. We have a nice cozy house on the outskirts of the capital."

"My bad... Ah! I'm not... unf... not great at social-class dirty talk yet... Ah! I always forget there are no... unf... slums in Arcadia. We're a pretty... god dammit fuck... a pretty wealthy Kingdom."

"Speak for yourself, your father raised taxes on small business owners," Bernard grumbled, without stopping his forceful movements to penetrate her. "It's made it difficult for regular folks to make ends meet, to be honest."

"Yeah, he did that so that he could lower taxes on... shit, yeah... on wealthy foreigners who hide their money in our safes. Taking from the poor to help the rich. A real... unf... a real Robin Hood of a King my dad was, huh?"

The baker's movements were too intense for her to handle, and Iris' legs finally gave out. She laid on her stomach, but that didn't stop him from continuing. He got on top of her and kept on driving his cock inside her drenched pussy. The way it came down on her stimulated several sensitive spots at once. It was rough, but pretty nice.

"Stay down, stay down," Bernard grunted, maintaining her pinned under him. "Let me work you, girl."

"Fuck, you're working me good indeed, Bernard," Iris replied, trying to hide her yelps of pleasure in her pillow.

"Still, you're right about one thing. Your dad did us dirty. Taxes are killing me, but I've never seen so many expensive cars in the capital's streets."

"Yeah, inequalities rose a lot under my father's rule," the Princess said, her voice muffled by the sheets her face was buried into. "Our... unf... Our Gini coefficient rose a lot."

"Our... what?" the pastry cook asked, slowing down his pounding.

"Our Gini coefficient," Iris repeated. "It's a statistic representing wealth inequality within a nation. The closer it is to zero... fuck me, that feels good... the more equal a society is. Iceland is pretty low for example, while ours is even higher than that of... unf... that of the US. And those guys already have one higher than Russia or China, which is really saying something."

"Damn, you've got brains," Bernard said, impressed. "And me who thought you were just a pretty face."

The pastry cook was getting invested in the conversation, making his pounding of her butt less ferocious. Iris was glad to have a bit of relief, but she missed seeing the older man overcome by his lust. Though, having a normal conversation with him all while he drove his humongous dick inside her was a different kind of kinky.

"Well, to be fair, I'm also a pretty butt, and I have fantastic tits. Give me some credit!" the Princess joked. "My dad might not have thought as much, but I was born to rule. I did my homework in preparation for my coronation, even though my mind sometimes wandered on... let's say, different topics."

"I can guess which other topics you're referring to," Bernard chuckled, grabbing her butt to keep her still while he railed her from behind. "But I hope you'll do something about the tax on foreign goods your father put in place when you become Queen. We don't produce flour in Arcadia, how is a baker supposed to keep his business afloat if everything gets more expansive while incomes stagnates?"

Okay, okay, stop. Dirty talk during sex was fun, but this was simply distracting. Iris straightened her back and turned towards the pastry cook, giving a friendly tap on his big hairy belly to tell him to slow down.

"Listen, I know talking about taxes and the fiscal system during sex is, like, nature's aphrodisiac, but this isn't doing it for me right now. Let's get back to what we're here to do, lie on my bed."

Mr. Murphy obliged. He removed himself from her reluctantly, before lying on his back next to her. Iris stood up and put her feet on either side of him, before looking at herself in the wide mirror in front of her. Her whole bedroom was full of mirrors, she had them installed when she was about 20-year-old. It's around that time her sex life really started taking off. 

She remembered how, at first, Mr. Moore joked about the Princess being very coquettish for wanting such a big mirror to look at her reflection in her quarters. Then, he was asked to install mirrors on the walls on either side of the bed, then one in front of it, and finally one above it. Once he finally understood what those mirrors would be used for, the old butler didn't utter a single word about it ever again.

It made Iris laugh so much to have shocked him like that. Offending her strict tutor was always a riot! But she wasn't here to go on a trip down memory lane, she had a suitor to assess. She brought her body down onto Mr. Murphy and took his penis in her hand to guide him to her entrance again. When it slid back in, her whole body was rocked by a delicious tremor.

"Yeaaaa~~~h, that's the good stuff," she whispered, biting her lower lip.

The blonde girl started making slow and sensual movements up and down on the baker's cock, all while looking at herself in the mirrors surrounding them.

Some time ago, she found out she enjoyed watching herself while she had sex quite a lot. Since everything wasn't always satisfying with her various partners, Iris tried to have a little fun with it and make it a kind of performance. And the least she could say was that Bernard certainly differed from the men she usually "performed" with!

He was by far the biggest of them all, and also the oldest. The rich boys the Princess usually had intercourse with were her age, and often very fit. The middle-aged baker was at least 70 to 80 pounds heavier. His bulging belly made the most of it, but it wasn't all fat. He was overweight, not obese. A lot of his body mass came from his manual labor, from the strong muscles his activity developed. He let himself go, but there also was a raw strength to his massive stature.

Iris looked so frail and delicate in comparison, it made her all tingly inside while she watched her reflection. How insanely hot she looked, riding this mountain of a man cowgirl style!

"Yes., right there! You're reaching so deep, Bernard," the Princess said, moving her little butt on his waist. "My dad made me learn horse riding from the moment I could walk, but I dare say you're the best stallion I've mounted so far."

"So I'm supposed to be your mount?" the baker chuckled. "That's a pretty insulting way to treat one of your subjects, Lady Iris."

"Like I'm treating you poorly. Ever heard the phrase "Save a horse, ride a cowboy", old man?" she teased.

"I'm a pastry cook not a cowboy, but I'll allow it. Watching a sexy noble girl like you impale herself on my dick over and over is too good a show to miss."

Impaling was a strong word, but Iris had to admit it wasn't far from the truth. Mr. Murphy's cock was hard as a steel bar, despite the fact he already came once. It was difficult to take him completely, though not impossible. And definitely enjoyable!

"You like when I'm doing all the work, then?" Iris teased, going quicker at each thrust of her hips. "You enjoy having your little Princess ride you while you laze about in her bed?"

"I could get used to it, that's for sure! You're the one who needs to make new heirs for your throne after all, it's only fair I don't do all the heavy-lifting for you."

"Oh, is that what we're doing now?" the young blonde kept on going, holding onto his shoulders to make stronger movements on top of him. "You're looking to breed a few heirs into my royal pussy, Mr. Murphy?"

The middle-aged man seized her asscheeks to guide her strokes. His eyes were fixed on the place they were connected, on the wet and warm entrance where his cock was disappearing again and again.

"You have no idea how much I'd love that..." he whispered.

"So you plan on making a mother out of me?" Iris giggled, playing with her breasts to entice him. "I'm doing my best to stay fit, and here you go trying to make my belly and my tits all big."

The idea of doing such a thing to his future Queen, to the hottest woman he ever had sex with, made the overweight baker blow a fuse. He reached out for her breasts, as if he was already imagining how they'd look like once they'd be full of milk.

"Shit, you were right," Bernard said, mesmerized. "You do have fantastic tits!"

"Told you so," the Princess replied, cheekily. "And you do have a fantastic cock, Mr. Murphy. Maybe you're right about this breeding thing. That's some some good genes we'd be passing on, you and I."

Bernard couldn't help it anymore, he grabbed the blonde girl's waist and brought her against him to take the lead again. He started plowing her pussy without restraint, all while keeping her glued to him.

"Then I'll breed you, Lady Iris," he grunted. "I'll breed you hard!"

The tall older man was so strong that Iris couldn't do anything to stop him. Not that she wanted to, because the truth of it was that Mr. Murphy was... strangely comfortable.

His hairy chest stung a bit against her breasts and belly, but other than that, it was pretty enjoyable. He was so big and large that she felt like she was lying on a big mushy pillow, all while having her pussy pounded by the largest cock she had ever seen. It was... Quite nice. She could get used to this feeling. Maybe even for a lifetime.

"Wow, that's nice... That's actually... very nice," she murmured, next to his ear.

The Princess let him go at her vigorously, lumping completely on top of him and letting him do as he pleased. This way, she could fully focus on her own pleasure and on the incredible feelings he was providing her. Bernard's broad hands on her ass moved her up and down as if she was light as a feather.

She nearly let go to try and reach orgasm, until something poked against an area that was definitely not designed for children-making.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing with that finger of yours?" Iris asked, looking at the pastry cook with a little pout.

"Come on, don't tell me a girl like you has never tried it," Bernard replied, rubbing his fingers against her anus. "I would be shocked."

"Of course I did. But I didn't prepare for it today, so that's off limits," she said, with a little tap on his nose. "Honestly, I'm not sure if I'd be able to handle that thing of yours back there."

"Alright. But could I just do it with one or two fingers?"

The middle-aged baker's hand moved more and more frantically between her buttcheeks, and his thrusts into her vagina were getting increasingly hard. The idea of fingering her ass was clearly getting him excited for some reason.

"Let me guess, you want to have tried every single one of my holes before our time together is done, is that it?" Iris smirked, feeling a little horny at this prospect too.

"Clever girl. Can I please probe your tight princessly asshole then, Lady Iris? I don't want to leave one of your holes unfucked."

"Well, since you're asking so politely..."

Now that she expressed consent, Bernard immediately drove his middle finger inside her back door. He wiggled it inside, teasing her anus all while he fucked her pussy silly. Iris wasn't used to this, and being stimulated from both ends made her feel incredibly aroused. She was nearing on her breaking point.

"Oh fuck, I'm close," she moaned. "Rea~~~~lly fucking close."

"So am I," Bernard said, clenching his jaw. "You feel so good, I'm gonna burst any second now."

"Then do it, Mr. Murphy!" she cried, putting her arms around his neck to be as close to him as possible. "Breed me! Breed me as if you wanted to fuck five additional kids into me at once!"

"Saying stuff like that... Christ, you're a lunatic!" he said, without slowing down at all. "We just met, for crying out loud. I'm not sure it's... We shouldn't..."

Iris had a little smile. She was about to have a grand fucking orgasm, but it made it even better knowing the person who was going to provide it to her was that big oaf. On top of being pretty good at lovemaking, Mr. Murphy was also a lot of fun to tease.

"Bernard, that's obviously dirty talk," the Princess chortled. "I'm a girl in her twenties with an active sex life, I obviously use contraception. I have a copper IUD, there's no risk of unplanned pregnancy. All I'm saying is that if you want to let go... You can let go..."

The old baker was little stunned at first, but he quickly understood that it meant he had no cause feeling bad now. He could do whatever he wanted without any repercussions, there was no point holding back.

"Alright, if that's what you want, then that's what you're gonna get!" he growled, fucking her stronger than ever. "I'll breed you, little noble slut! I'll breed you good!""

"Do it!" the Princess screamed at the top of her lungs. "Breed that pussy! Breed that pussy gooo~~~oood!"

They reached orgasm nearly in unison. Iris felt his enormous cock throb inside of her and she climaxed as soon as she felt his warm seed invade her vagina. Bernard held himself back for so long that he let out an ungodly amount of semen. It filled her completely, to the point it overflew out of her. And it was his second time cumming in the past hour! 

The Princess never had a man show her this unequivocally how excited he was to have sex with her. That was an undeniable proof if she'd ever seen one...

"Wow..." she said, exhausted. "Thanks for your application, Mr. Murphy. That was... uff... quite convincing..."

The pastry cook removed himself from her and they laid side by side in bed, trying to catch their breath as best they could after what had been one of the most intense intercourses either of them had experienced. A small puddle of semen started forming between Iris' legs. She'd need to change her sheets before tonight, but that was a problem for later.

"I nearly forgot this was an inspection," Bernard said, rubbing his forehead to clear his thoughts. "The health checks in my bakery are usually more unpleasant."

"Well, it was," the Princess giggled. "And you've just skyrocketed among the top candidates today, that's for sure!"

"Don't be afraid to call me again if you want a second opinion," he joked.

Iris closed her eyes, basking in the afterglow of her orgasm. Her body was still shaky from small flashes of pleasure. It had been a very, very long time since she felt that way.

"Trust me Mr. Murphy, that didn't fall on deaf ears," she smiled, wiggling around naked in the bed sheets.

She expected her search for a proper groom to be an awful and wearisome process, but maybe this would prove to be... interesting.

At least if she executed it in her own way.

Chapter Text

The Princess heard a shy knock on the door over the sound of water running. The guy took his damn time, he was usually more punctual.

"You have... summoned me, Lady Iris?" a muffled voice echoed in the room.

"Yes, come on in," she replied.

There was a slight pause, and Iris could distinctly hear Mr. Moore's sigh through the door. She didn't know how many times she had heard this characteristic deep, tired sigh throughout her lifetime, but it surely was a lot.

"I'd... rather not," he said. "This is... This is highly inappropriate, My Lady."

"Your future Queen commands it!" the blonde girl snapped.

Begrudgingly, the old butler opened the door. He stepped into the room and immediately diverted his gaze from the place Iris was standing. Honestly, he had reason to, considering she was currently fully naked and in the middle of a very nice post-orgasm shower.

"Princess, you've got to stop beckoning me while you're in various states of undress," Mr. Moore said, walking towards the toilet to blatantly stare at the wall that was furthest away from her in the bathroom. "This is not appropriate."

"For a long time, Kings and Queens had people preparing their baths for them," Iris replied, while running a washcloth over her legs and breasts. "They catered to them while they washed, scrubbed their backs and everything. It was seen as an honor to witness the sovereign bathe. You should consider yourself lucky, sir."

"Yes... And this practice died centuries ago!" the Royal Butler grumbled.

The Princess had a hard time refraining from laughing. The situation was ridiculous; the poor guy was standing over there, straight as an arrow in his fancy black suit and looking down at the toilet bowl while she shampooed. She really got a kick out of watching her stern former tutor try his best to keep a professional front when she messed with him. 

He ran a hand in his hair to maintain his poised attitude, but she was delighted to notice his cheeks were turning red from embarrassment. On a separate note, Iris liked Edward Moore's hair. It was very blond, even blonder than her own, though it was turning greyer as the years went by. It was like a crown made of silver and waning gold.

"What if I was to reinstate it?" the noble lady teased.

"Wh... What?" Mr. Moore asked, without looking her way.

"I could implement a law that would require the Royal Butler to assist the Queen in her everyday hygiene, you know? Would you be willing to scrub my back then?"

"I believe there are more pressing matters that demand your attention, My Lady," he fumed, while tightening his grip on the clipboard under his arm.

"It's always all work and no play with you, isn't it? Don't you ever loosen up?"

"I cannot, because it's always all play and no work with you. As it was with your father."

The comparison with her dad stung the noble girl harder than it ought to. The bastard was fighting back, but it only motivated her to double down on her provocation.

"You may complain about it, Edward, but deep down I believe you think it's a great idea," Iris said, with a bratty smile. "I bet you'd love to scrub my back. Don't you want to clean me after I've been a dirty, dirty Princess?"

"I swear to God, if this is just another one of your games, I'm walking out! I've had a really long, hard day."

"Yeah, I've had something long and hard today too," she giggled.

"Alright, that is enough!" Mr. Moore fulminated, his face turning all red. "This right here is plain workplace sexual harassment!"

"How is this workplace harassment?" Iris scoffed.

"Since your father's passing, you're legally my employer. And I dare say having your boss call for a meeting in a bathroom where they're greeting you naked and flashing everything at you is a serious HR violation. The fact that you're a young and handsome woman doesn't make it okay; the law is the law!"

Iris thought about it for a second and was left a bit confounded.

"Oh shit, you're actually right. This is a serious double standard situation. If I were an old, pervy boss, that would be a super problematic setting."

"Good," the Royal Butler nodded. "Can I leave, then? We can reschedule this meeting in a more appropriate place."

"Nope, you're staying. But I concede you have the moral high ground on this subject, and isn't that already half the victory?"

"God, you're insufferable..."

He said that, but he didn't move an inch. Edward Moore was like a trained dog, his business ethics prevented him from refusing a direct order from his supervisor and ruler. Too bad he had enough grit to call her out on her bad behavior, but not enough to actually stand up to her.

"Anyway, I didn't ask you to come here to banter," Iris said. "I needed to talk to you about my meeting with Mr. Murphy."

"Should I prepare for a wedding ceremony?" he asked, dryly.

"Woah, hold your horses, don't ring the wedding bells just yet!" the Princess chuckled. "I'm not going to marry the first guy I bang, do you take me for a Christian college girl?"

"Then what was this... this meeting in your chambers all about, if you're not planning on marrying that gentleman?"

"Don't get me wrong, Bernard was good. Like, reaaally good! Best lay I've had in years, hands down. If I had to settle, he would definitely make a decent 'plan B'. But that's the feeling he left me, y'know? A solid plan B, but a plan B nonetheless. There was something... missing. A spark, a connection. I can't pinpoint what it was, but something was lacking."

"Can't understand why, after the long-lasting relationship you and him shared throughout the entirety of this afternoon," the butler jeered.

"Oh, shut it, Edward. I know it might sound hypocritical coming from someone who just porked a complete stranger because she read a file saying he had a big dick, but size isn't everything. I'm picky, sue me!"

"Then you'll have to tell me what your requirements are for our pairing process, since mine didn't seem to work."

"Honestly, I simply want someone who won't attempt to murder me in my sleep to take the throne," Iris sighed, depressed to be back to square one. "You want my prerequisites? Decent guy, decent dick, that's about it. Each thing isn't that difficult to find on its own, the hard part is finding one attached to the other."

"I cannot emphasize how inappropriate it is for you to discuss this kind of thing with me," Mr. Moore scowled.

"Well, the royal wedding is to be the start of my reign. You're the Royal Butler, my closest advisor, so you're involved in this, whether you want to or not. Besides, aren't you glad your former protégée is looking for your opinion on matters of the heart? It's proof of trust and... intimacy."

Iris started dancing under the shower, shaking her hips enticingly and humming a little tune to tease him. The older man was still facing away, but from the corner of his eye, she was sure he could notice her shenanigans.

Mr. Moore took a deep breath to try and calm down. The noble lady knew him since she was born, she was perfectly aware of how to get on his nerves. But he couldn't let himself be overcome by her cheeky antics. She was right about one thing: he was her advisor. This was his role here, and he needed to fulfill it.

"On that matter, there's something I should point out," he said, with a grave tone. "I know how stress-inducing this matchmaking process is, and how much pressure rests on your shoulders because of Arcadia's outdated Constitution. But you have another option, Princess. You could always… well, divorce."

Iris stopped her silly dance immediately.

"Come again?" she asked.

"If you so choose, you may wed one of your subjects, take the throne, then change the law and divorce him the very next day. You’d conform to the Constitution our founders put in place, but also rule as Queen on your own terms."

The Princess was genuinely moved by his suggestion. For someone as attached to traditions as he was, pointing this out mustn't have come easy. Mr. Moore was putting her well-being before his own values. He was sweet, albeit a little oblivious.

"I appreciate the fact you're telling me this," Iris replied, sincerely. "But I already figured that out. You're thinking too lightly of me, Edward. You should know better, you're the one who taught me the law of our land, after all. I know I can do this, but I won't."

"I don't get it," Mr. Moore said, fighting the urge to turn back to look at her face. "It would save you from this humiliating pairing process, from King Harold's poor nurturing, from wasting your life with a man you chose hastily without loving him."

Iris turned off the shower and stared at him deeply. The ageing butler couldn't see it since he was facing away, but she looked at him with more intensity than she ever looked at a man before.

"You might be one of the people who know me most in this world, you know that, Mr. Moore?" she said, softly. "I never knew my mother, my father didn't bother raising me, and most of my friends and lovers are lickspittles and bootlickers from Court. You, on the other hand, have always been by my side. Yes, you're possibly the person who knows me most, and yet you fail to see it. I’m not looking for an easy way out."

"Why?" he insisted. "You’re the one who said our Constitution was sexist and medieval."

"It is, but I don’t want to defeat my father and Arcadia's founders by finding some loophole. I want to beat them at their own game, fair and square. I want to find the right Consort before the time is up. Then, and only then, will I change this country for the better. It’s not a question of logic, it’s a question of principles. My father and his fathers before him thought of me as a broodmare, but I’m the Princess, the future Arcadian Queen. Nobody crosses me, whether dead or alive."

Iris stood out of the shower in silence, and Mr. Moore didn't dare answer for a time. The girl had more will than he realized, he thought too lightly of her indeed. However, for all her resolve and determination, she was still going at this wrong.

"I didn't see it that way, but I think I understand," he said, trying to sound sympathetic. "And that's why I want to help you find the right Consort, but I don't think you'll find him by... by doing the kind of thing you did with that man, Mr. Murphy."

"That's up to me, last time I checked," Iris replied, sternly.

"Of course it is, that's not what I'm saying, but this isn't the way to get the measure of a man. I mean... I even had to clean that baker's phone before he left Palace grounds."

The Princess took a towel and started rubbing her body in front of the wide bathroom mirror. She was now standing between Mr. Moore and the exit door. It was fun to think he'd have to face her one way or the other before getting out. 

"You mean Mr. Murphy didn't keep his little photograph of our first date?" she giggled, remembering the nasty picture she let him take at the end of her blowjob. "And me who thought he'd save it as a souvenir, I admit I'm feeling a little disappointed."

"I didn't exactly give him a choice," the butler replied, embarrassed. "I couldn't let him leave with compromising information about the royal family."

"Wait, so you checked inside his phone and deleted the picture?" she asked.

"No, I destroyed his phone and gave him money in exchange. Deleted pictures are too easily retrieved, I couldn't take any risk."

"Who gave you the right to do that? I let Bernard take that photo of my own accord, and I don't recall ordering you to check the nudes I send to anyone."

"No, it was your... your father who did," Mr. Moore replied, scratching his neck with unease.

The Princess tensed and her beautiful face turned into a frown. Her dad, her dad, it was always her frigging dad. The fucker was rotting six feet under, and he still managed to suffocate her!

"My father did what, now?" she asked, between clenched teeth.

Mr. Moore hesitated for a second. It wasn't something he expected to reveal to Iris today, or ever. But she was the future Queen, she deserved to know the truth.

"When you... Well, when you started becoming 'sexually active', for lack of a better word, King Harold ordered me to cover your tracks. Henceforth, I made sure to find and erase any... compromising pictures or recordings."

"Hold on a second, this isn't the first time you do this?" she asked, suddenly feeling a cold sweat run down her back. "Are you telling me you've been tracking my flings and my nudes since I was... ?"

"Since too long ago," he cut her off. "We couldn't let any of this leak online or to the media."

The shock nearly made Iris fall backward. Her brain went all dizzy, and she felt lost in a terrifying vertigo. It meant that, during all these years, Mr. Moore had been aware of... of basically everything regarding her sexuality!

"I have never, in my entire life, felt this... this betrayed and invaded in my privacy!" the blonde girl spat, outraged. "And you just followed my dad's orders without question? You didn't think this was inappropriate, perhaps?"

"Of course I did, but he was the King. I believe he was trying to protect you."

"Bullshit! He was protecting himself and his public image! Can't have the Arcadian Princess being called a slut, is that it?"

"While the king's actions can be called into questioned, you can't deny there was a risk, My Lady. What if one of your lovers decided to publish any of this? Have you thought about that?"

"Okay, no! Fuck that noise! What you're doing is called 'victim blaming'. I have every right to send pictures of me and my body to anyone I want, as long as they consent to it. If they put it online afterward, they're the ones to blame! They're the ones who are doing revenge porn, not me, and they're the scum of the earth!"

"I agree, My Lady. Forgive me."

Iris started blow-drying her hair, her whole body trembling in rage. Even from the grave, her father was still trying to control her life, it made her absolutely livid! And he wasn't the only one. She turned to the old butler and stared daggers at him.

"You had no right to do this, Edward," she said, coldly. "Send it back to him. That picture you retrieved from Bernard's phone, I command you to send it back to him!"

"I can't, it's been erased."

"And I should simply trust you on that? You just told me you've been tracking my every move, every affair I've had, since I was a teenager! How can I trust a single word coming out of your mouth anymore? Who's to say you haven't kept all those pictures and videos to yourself?"

Mr. Moore was startled by this attack. He still didn't turn toward her, but his eyes were darting everywhere on the tiled wall in front of him.

"I... My Lady, I'd never dare!" he said, panicking. "You're... I've known you since forever, I could... There's simply no way I'd..."

"Why don't we go to your house and check your computer then, huh?" Iris kept pushing him, making sure to hurt him as much as she felt hurt right now. "Maybe we'll find a neat little file with all my nudes and spicy videos you've been keeping as jerking material? Do you like to check them out after work every day? Perhaps you're jealous I never sent one to you, old man?"

This time, the Princess crossed a line. The Royal Butler turned back to her, uncaring of the fact she was nearly naked in her slim towel. He didn't care, he looked completely past that.

"Alright, enough is enough!" he yelled. "I know you feel betrayed, and I agree your father was out of line to be this controlling and invasive of your private life, but I'm not the one to blame. I only followed orders, and I will not have you question my professional integrity! I'm not some perverted maniac, I erased all the content I found from the face of the Earth. The very fact you'd think I'd do this kind of thing or see you in that light is... it's outrageous!"

They stared at each other in deadly silence for a few seconds, blood pumping and fists trembling. Both had reason to be angry, and neither wanted to back down. Then, Iris finally turned back to the mirror and slipped some panties on.

"Fuck this. Since you were only follow my father's orders, here are mine: never, and I do mean ever, erase a nude I send to someone ever again. I'm my own woman, I don't need a chaperone. Understood, Edward?"

Mr. Moore bowed his head rigidly.

"At your command, Lady Iris. And I also beg your pardon. While it wasn't of my own will, what I did was unforgivable."

"Pardon granted. It was my dad's fault, as it always is. Now, to get back on topic, I want you to send the resume of my potential Consorts to my room. I'll take it from here and find my match on my own."

The Royal Butler felt awful. The Princess had good reason to be enraged, but if she was to handle this on her own, there was no way to tell the things she'd do. She was slipping, what happened today with this baker was worrying him.

"Might I suggest an alternative?" he said. "How about a form of... competition? I'll send you the files we received and you'll meet the people you want, but every now I then, I'll introduce you to a potential Consort I think could be fitting."

Iris was surprised by the idea, but she found it funny. It calmed her down a little after her frenzy.

"I didn't take you for a matchmaker, Mr. Moore," she chuckled. "You really believe you can find a better Consort for me than I would on my own?"

The more she thought about his suggestion, the more it piqued her curiosity. What kind of guy would her stern tutor introduce her to? He seemed to think he knew what was good for her more than she did, that might be a nice way to prove him wrong, once again.

"Alright, let's shake on it," she nodded.

Iris turned to the Royal Butler and went close to him. Very close to him. It was only now that he realized the gorgeous blonde was only wearing her panties. However, he didn't turn away this time. He knew she was trying to fluster him, but he couldn't show weakness at such a crucial time. He shook her hand solemnly while looking at her face, and only at her face.

"You and I are on, Mr. Moore!" she said, with a little wink. "Let's see who between the two of us finds me the best suitor and husband."

"We shall see indeed," he replied, soberly. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll go review the candidates. With your leave, of course."

The Princess contemplated torturing him for a while longer, but her shower was done, and she needed to take a break after this exhausting conversation.

"You have my leave," she simply said.

The older man went for the door, making sure never to touch her or to let his stare wander. When he closed the door behind him, Iris heaved a deep sigh. In a way, his reaction was a relief. After discovering her former tutor had access to intimate pictures of her, the fact he didn't look at her body once since he walked in that room confirmed the fact he hadn't used King Harold's orders to invade her privacy more than he needed to.

Hence, there was relief, but also a strange sensation of... disappointment? I mean, let's get real for a sec: the Princess was drop dead gorgeous, and her nudes totally rocked! And Mr. Moore never felt a thing when looking at them? Ever? Iris felt hurt in her sex appeal.

Then, a crazy idea hit her. She went back into her room and sat in front of the bed. She positioned her phone in front of her and tried to find a good angle. Once it was done, she slowly lowered her panties and took a picture of herself. It wasn't a particularly slutty selfie since most of her body was hidden by the bed, but she strategically positioned herself in front of a mirror. While her face looked cute and innocent, her uncovered ass was reflected in the corner of the picture. It struck that perfect balance between arty and spicy.

She added the caption "Thanks again for your hard work, sir ❤️" and sent it to Mr. Moore's phone.

God, the face he'd make when checking his phone, she would've loved to see it! For the first time, it wasn't a picture he'd need to erase. This one was only for him. And what made it a lot funnier was the fact that Iris just made him swear never to delete one of her nudes again.

If Mr. Moore obeyed his Princess as much as he obeyed the former King, he would have to keep this photo for the rest of his days. Now that was Iris' kind of revenge!