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Moronia and Transvallia have a territorial dispute, how better to resolve it than to have Prince Harold of Moronia Marry princess Lilla of Transvallia. Of course it's not that simple. Humour not Hard Core
This account is not intended to be historically accurate, but it is supposed to be humourous.

A Royal Engagement

The planning had taken several months. Diplomatic exchanges had been lengthy and tedious and now the happy union between Prince Harold of Moronia and Princess Lilla of Transvallia had been arranged to cement the union between the two nations after twenty years or so of sporadic war.

Neither side really wanted a war, but neither would accept peace over the disputed city and province of Dunn. Basically neither side wanted the money pit but national pride got in the way.

Princess Lilla was not pleased, “Why do I have to marry that dork,” she demanded.

“Because you are a girl, you do not have any sisters and as far as we know Harold isn’t gay,” her mother sighed.

“Why do I have to marry Lilla?” Harold asked .

“To end the war,” his father the King explained, “Don’t you read the newspapers?”

“Can’t my sister marry one of their Princes?” Harold asked.

“Only if you marrying Lilla doesn’t work out,” The King added.

Harold was not happy, he had seen Lilla’s portrait and he knew the artist, and knew the princess would be twenty kilos heavier, 20 centimeters shorter and at least twice as wide as the photo, why even his own father’s portrait showed a fine upstanding giant of of a man not the fat old twat he had now become.

Lilla was not happy, crammed in to a carriage for two days with her ladies in waiting was no fun at all. She much preferred the castle where she lived, and she especially liked winding up footmen trying to get them uncomfortable as she flashed some thigh or a boob so they got an embarrassing woody.

Jayne her confidante was doing her best to persuade Lilla that Harold was a good catch, “Look it’s just the wedding night and then you can screw anyone you like, you won’t have to be a virgin anymore.”

“That bird’s well and truly flown,” Lilla admitted.

“Oh fick,” Jayne gasped, “It’s the first thing they’ll check.”

“You did realise didn’t you? Egbert, the fit gardener?” Lilla asked.

“I thought you just tossed him off,” Jayne protested.

“No, full 20 centimeters,” Lilla grinned, “Pulled out though, no babies.”

“Damn,” Jayne cursed, “You should have said and we could have tried to get you stitched up again.”

“Too late,” Lilla laughed, “If you are so worried you had better pretend to be me for the checks.”

“I look nothing like you,” Jayne protested.

“They will only have seen that awful painting,” Lilla pointed out, “Stick my crown on and no one will be any the wiser.”

Jayne was not too thrilled, “What happens if I end up married to Prince Harold?”

“Really, do you seriously think he will fancy you?” Lilla asked.

Jayne was hurt but she knew she was over weight, and short so maybe Lilla had a point.

The carriage thundered on as the center vehicle of a twenty carriage convoy of guards, soldiers, courtiers and every other sort of hanger on you could think of.

They arrived at the Castle and were invited in. “Welcome to Castle Moronia,” Herr Dorkmeister the door keeper welcomed them, “Take a shit and I shall tell his highness you are here.”

“How rude,” Jayne exclaimed.

“He’s a mind reader,” Lilla replied as she made a bee line for the lavatories. Jayne was left to explain the swap to the government officials who were not exactly pleased but had to agree to go along with it.

The King welcomed them in his private apartment, “Ah Lilla my dear, even more beautiful than your portrait,” he simpered.

“And you so Hansom, just like on the Moronia coins.” Jayne replied.

“Cut the wise cracks,” Lilla whispered.

“I see we share a sense of humor,” the King sighed, “My ministers came up with the marriage plan not I, and to be honest Harold is not keen.”

“Oh,” Jayne queried.

“He told me to stuff the whole idea up my ass,” the King continued, “And that’s before he saw you so, well, don’t be too disappointed.”

“Oh,” Jayne replied.

“Not that you are not beautiful,” the King lied. “I should marry you in a moment.”

“But you are married,” Jayne exclaimed.

“Sadly so,” the King admitted.

“I heard that,” the Queen snapped as she swept in like an old fashioned battleship sweeping in to port or like half of Mont Blanc suddenly appearing through a doorway. “Anyway word is this slut has fucked half the household so show us the goods Lady.”

“What?” Jayne protested.

“Show us your cunt, we need to check you are a virgin.” the Queen insisted.

Jayne looked round, Lilla nodded slightly, so Jayne reluctantly sat down on a couch and with some difficulty she raised her long flowing skirt and under skirts so the Queen could check for a hymen.

The Queen was first to look. Jayne shivered at the indignity of it. The cool air on her thighs and crotch was exciting, she started to feel uncomfortably damp.

The Queen’s long nailed fingers gently separated Jayne’s moistened cunt lips, her hymen glistened, “She’s intact,” she said, “She’s also Lesbian.” The Queen paused, “Would you like me to push my fingers deep in your cunt?”

“Yes,” Jayne said in a tiny whisper. “Please!”

“You can come in now, she’s a virgin,” the King shouted and Prince Harold appeared from the side room.

“Oh for fucks sake you must be kidding,” Harold said as he saw Jayne with her skirts up and his mother caressing her crotch. “Tell you what, you tell her her to fuck off and I’ll give her lady in waiting one.” he said pleasantly.

Lilla was outraged but Harold was fit, seriously fit, so when he grabbed her by the arm she didn’t resist, or when her pushed her against a chair back, or, when her bent her over, even when he lifted her skirts and bared her buttocks she didn't protest and even when rammed his dick deep inside Lilla’s well worn cunt she forgot to scream, a muffled Ohhhh was the best she could manage.

“Get off her,” the King shouted.

“Not again,” the Queen agreed.

“For fucks sake!” Lilla cried

“Oh it’s all gone horribly, ah, right?” Jayne added.

“What? never seen anyone fucking before,” Harold asked as he gave Lilla a really good seeing to, “You can see she was up for it, gagging for it.” he added, “Now what you going to do about me marrying Princess HogsFart.”

“You are fucking Princess Lilla right now you Moron,” Jayne snapped, “We changed places.”

“Then you’re even more stupid than you look,” Harold laughed, “Oh fucking bollocks.” he added as he realised what this meant.

“Seven out of ten,” Lilla said, “You need some work on your chat up lines, but I can work with that dick.”

“So clean my dick with your mouth and get me hard again,” Harold ordered.

“That’s what Ladies in waiting are for,” Lilla replied but Jayne and the Queen had got a bit carried away and the Queen had three fingers deep inside Jayne while Jayne thought she was in heaven.

“Suck my Dick bitch,” Harold said pleasantly.

“That’s no way to speak to your mother,” the King replied.

“He means this one,” the Queen replied, “Suck his dick dear, he gets petulant if he doesn’t get his way.

Jayne had never sucked dick before, and certainly not a scuzzy jism covered shrunken one but she did her best. She briefly considered biting the end off but decided against it, but the thought that he was in her power excited her. That’s when she started to cum.

“Agghh,” Harold cried as Jayne forgot what she was doing and accidentally almost bit off his dick as she lost in in the purple haze of orgasm.

He pulled out rapidly, “She bit me.”

Lilla commiserated, and kissed his dick better, “Better make sure it still works,” she advised and she lay back and guided it back inside her willing cunt.

“What a fucking shambles,” the King observed, “Where’s my mistress when I need her, “Carmella, Carmella, where the fuck are you?” he cried.

“She’s useless the Queen sighed, “You don’t fancy becoming an official Royal mistress do you? she asked Jayne.

“Does it pay well?” Jayne asked.

“No but we can have lots of fun,” the Queen suggested.

“What do I have to do?” Jayne asked.

“Climb on his dick and shut him up,” the Queen suggested

“That’s your job,” Jayne countered.

“I have a bad back, and some self respect,” the Queen explained as Jayne saw the sense in it and started to remove the Kings’ trousers.

While this was going on, Many many Transvallian bureaucrats and hangers on had clustered around inside and outside the room trying to work out what the fuck was going on.

“Your gracious Majesty, Might I enquire What the fuck is going on?” the Herr Keerstarmer the bravest or stupidest one asked.

The King rolled his eyes and explained, “Harold fucked Lilla, so they're getting married whether they like it or not and this girl who ever she is, is now my official number one mistress and Carmella my former mistress is looking for another job, now fuck off and give us some privacy.”

"I thank you your Gracious Majesty, I shall have the town crier tell the population at once," Herr Keerstarmer replied

"Just do one all right?" the King ordered as he looked forward to exploring Jayne's body inch by inch when he had had a little nap to let his dick recover, and the Queen went in to Wedding mode and started wondering what to wear.

And so the nations of Moronia and Transvallia were reconciled and peace reigned for several years until the Russians invaded.
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