The Princess and the Pe(nis)

Once upon a time…

in a land far and away ago, there lived a King. He and his wife had many children, for they were fond of playing in their bed, with the expected results.

Their oldest child, a son, grew from babe-in-arms, to rambunctious toddler, to exploring youth under the watchful, and somewhat doting, eyes of his parents. Fecundity was only one of his mothers unforseen ‘talents’ – she was constantly randy, a trait that bred true in her eldest child.

Thankfully, no offspring occurred from his dalliances far and about the kingdom. He was a kind and generous lover, and many sighed and hoped that they would be the one to bear a royal bastard, for the prestige of it, or perhaps catch his eye long enough to marry.

Alas, for the maidens of the great kingdom, the lad was always careful about his seed, and his parents had already told him that he would marry only a princess.

His greatest fear was the Princess of Barvaria, as she was as homely a lass as could be, or so rumor had it. He had heard that her face was as long as his pony’s, that her teeth were as large; her hair was scraggled like a lion with mange, and bright red as well. It was rumored that her eyes were two different colors. She never made public appearances for the poor brute was simply too ugly.

Yet he knew his parents corresponded regularly with Princess Margaret’s parents. They’d gone to visit them on several occasions, leaving the royal brood at home.  They spoke often and fondly of the Princess and her family, his mother often tut-tutting as there was only the one daughter, the one son.

Then came the day he dreaded.

“My son,” began his father, rubbing his cheeks and tugging  on the short beard he’d been growing, after losing a wager with his mother, “You have come of age, and are ready to take a wife. Your mother and I have planned for you and our dearest friends daughter to wed later this year.”

Such arranged marriages were the done thing at the time, don’t look at me that way. I’m only telling the story, not making it up as I go along, you know!

The prince’s heart sank. He hated to disappoint his parents, whom he loved dearly. But he couldn’t wed the princess. Why, he’d be shackled forever to her, and how could he fall in love with an ugly ducking such as Princess Margaret?

Hush…that’s another story for another day. Could you focus, please?

“Father,” begged the Prince, “Please, don’t make me marry! I’m too young, and not ready to settle yet.”

His father knew his son’s unspoken concern. With a hidden smile he replied “Son, you are 20 and 4 winters now. It is time for you to wed, to bed, and to bring me a grandchild! I long for a babe to dandle on my knee.”

“FATHER! You and mother have 15 children. Elise has babies. Dandle one of them!”

“My heir needs an heir. It is the way it is done in our family, my son. It is time for you to wed. There is no more conversation regarding this.”

The king turned from his son, and winked at his wife. He thought he’d handled the entire affair with aplomb, actually.

The prince, well, he was disconsolate, and spent the rest of the day casting his seed throughout the kingdom. He fucked any willing milkmaid, farm girl, apprentice, and chambermaid, hoping that one of them would “catch”. Perhaps the embarrassment of a by-blow would prevent Princess Margaret from saying her vows with him!


Princess Margaret had the first royal tantrum of her life. She was, by nature, a biddable lass. Her parents loved her, spoiled her a bit, but it had never made her a brat. She had been kept out of the limelight, preferring her books to royal duties. Her older brother would be king, after all, and she knew that one day she’d grow up, and build her own library.

She planned to fill it with books from the world over, making it a center of great learning for all to come to, men OR women. She’d keep it open all the time, for one never knew when the urge to read a good book, or seek the answer to a plaguing question would occur! Why, she had puzzled all weekend on the matter of stars, and had to wait until her brother, out and about in the kingdom on his latest royal tour,  was returned home,  so that he could accompany her to the library. That place was “only for men” if one could believe that. At long last Alex had returned and she’d glared at the Librarian as he’d signed the book out- to her brother- and passed it across the counter to him.

“This sort of book is not for you, princess or no,” he’d said, his voice gruff and dark. “You need recipes, go ask your kitchen matron.” With that, the rude man had turned his back on the pair of them.

“I’m telling Papa that this troll doesn’t want me to learn,” she’d hissed loudly at Alex, who’d only laughed and ruffled her hair. Copper curls dancing around her face, she’d turned back and, unable to resist the urge, had stuck her tongue out. Of course the troll had turned and seen it, and muttered a terse “brat” under his breath, though loud enough for her to hear him.

She turned her back on him, and tugging the book from Alex, had run all the way back to the palace, curling up in her favorite chair to begin reading. That was when she had overheard the voices of her parents, her father sounding as if he were soothing her Mum, and her mother, obviously sniffling in some distress.

“It is time, beloved. She is old enough. This will cement our friendship and our borders. For our lifetime and hers this land will be safe-and strongly united- with our neighbors.”

“B-but…it was only yesterday that she was climbing tree’s and running through the halls of the palace and sliding down the banisters…”

There was a sound of “there, there, my darling” and the rustle of clothing. She hoped that they weren’t kissing. Again. Gods…parents. So gross!

She was curious. How was she going to cement their neighbors? Were they going to let her build her library, at last? Jumping up, she moved to the doorway, but heard nothing. Opening the door, she stepped through, seeing her Father, holding Mother, locked in a torrid kiss. She blinked, somewhat shocked to see her mother’s breast in her father’s hand, her mothers leg, still covered in a voluminous skirt, wrapped around her father’s thigh.

She cleared her throat, and they broke apart, looking a bit flushed. She had read some of those sort of tales as well, and understood that her parents were thinking about …the penetration of cock and womanfolds.


Messy, gross, and so inappropriate for her parents to be doing that here. 

“Daughter,” her father said in his overly jovial voice, that belied her mothers obvious embarrassment. She had turned away, tucking her breast back into her bodice, as her father stood, amused, looking at them both.

“You two are …” she was, for once, at a loss for words.

“We two are,” her father said, still smiling, “very much in love with one another…and your mother has a beautiful body that I cannot resist touching.”

“Father!” Margaret blushed.

“What, little girl? You should not make assumptions of that which you do not understand. Someday, you too may be interrupted, in some state of disarray, by your own daughter…or son.”

“Eww.” Red-faced, she tried to not smile at her father, but his grin was hard to resist.

“This is an excellent time to break the news to you. Our friends, and neighbors, King Leopold and his wife Margaret, who you were named for, my darling, and your mother and I, have agreed it is time for you and their son, Prince Leo,  to wed.”

“Wh-aaaaa-t?” Screeched Margaret. “Are you kidding? Are you out of your minds?” 

“Daughter!” her mother admonished her, shocking them both.

“I will NOT marry that randy spawn of YOUR friends. NEVER!”

Turning, the princess ran from the room, and had the royal fit of her lifetime.

Yes, I know you want more. And of course there is more. But I grow thirsty and need a nap. Do return on the morrow.