A femdom fairy tale I published elsewhere too.
Once upon a time there was a Prince who was handsome, witty, kind and clever. He was heir to a prosperous Kingdom, where the people were happy and peaceful. The King and Queen owned many palaces, all of them gleaming with marble, with cellars full of gold and silver, with jewels beyond count. Truly, the Prince was the luckiest man alive except for one thing: he had a laughably small penis.
When he was born, the court physician had noticed how tiny the royal todger appeared to be even for a baby. But he reassured the King and Queen that all would be well, when the Prince hit puberty. Yet puberty came and went, and by the time he was 20, the Prince still had a cock little larger than he had when he was a baby, although now it stood up stiffly like a drawing pin whenever the Prince got excited -- which was often.
The heir to a Kingdom needs an heir of his own, so the King and Queen were anxious to marry their only son off as early as possible. Beautiful princesses came from lands far and near, but all had heard about the Prince's little problem and all wanted to see it before becoming betrothed. Soon enough, peals of girlish royal laughter would ring out through the palace, and the courtiers would hang their heads in despair, as yet another royal carriage rattled hastily away out of the palace gates, bearing a still-giggly princess in the back.
What were they to do? As word spread of the Prince's embarrassing condition, the Kingdom became known as 'the Kingdom of the Prince with the laughably small penis'. From the lowliest beggar to the mightiest baron, all of the real men in the Kingdom, sporting perfectly adequate tackle, found that they were thought by foreigners to have nothing worth speaking of between their legs -- and the women of the Kingdom had to fend off foreign men eager to give them the pork stuffing that they were assumed to be lacking.
But the years went by, and the King and Queen despaired of ever finding a beautiful Princess to whom they could wed their darling son, with his dainty dangling ding-dong.
Then one day, a carriage drew up in the courtyard with a clattering and a rattling that roused the whole palace. This was unusual in itself, since it had been years since any princesses visited. More unusual still, the driver and footmen -- footpeople -- on the carriage were all women. Usually, princesses were accompanied by handsome young men, who would sit making gestures towards their ample, bulging trouser treasure, while the Princess was inside trying to control her laughter. Yet this carriage was accompanied only by tall, rather serious-looking women.
One got down and opened the door, shouting out "Her Highness the Crown Princess of Femlandia!". And down from the carriage emerged a young lady of rare beauty and still rarer richness of garment, whose countenance was sterner still than those of her minionettes. She looked around her, with a bored and faintly contemptuous expression.
"Where's little dick, then?" she enquired of no one in particular.
"Erm... our son prefers to go by his given name of Richard" puffed the King, who had come running out of the palace to greet his guest.
"Where's little dick Richard, then?" the Princess asked, fixing his watery blue eyes with a level stare from her pools of steel grey.
"Er... well, there..." the King began, pointing feebly towards the South Eastern tower of the palace, but the Princess and several of her entourage had already swept off and were entering the building.
In his room, Prince Richard was sitting quietly in the gloom, feeling sad and useless, as he often did. Had it been 700 years later, he would probably have been wanking around to no purpose on the Internet, but in those benighted days there was nothing better to do when wasting time than watch the dust-motes dancing in sunbeams, so this was what he was doing.
There was a peremptory knock and the Princess swept in, accompanied by two tall blonde courtiers, dressed in military regalia and sporting swords.
"Who... who are you?" stammered Prince Richard, which was odd because he had not previously had a speech impediment of any kind.
"Princess Valerie of Femlandia" came the curt response. "Here to inspect the goods. Trousers down."
"Er... Princess, you realise... of course... that I don't really have much to -- " began Richard, wondering where on earth that stammer had come from.
"Not something that really bothers me, to be honest", the Princess replied, smiling slightly at one of the female soldiers at her side, who blushed and returned the smile more fully.
"But it's as well to see what I'm getting. Trousers down -- or my guards here will take them down for you."
The Prince reluctantly did as he was bidden, and stood there, his legs illuminated by a sunbeam. There was silence in the room, which was eventually broken by the Princess.
"And the pants", she snapped. "Obviously. Moron."
The Prince hurriedly lowered his pants as well.
As it was dark in the room all three women leant forward for a closer look and at almost exactly the same time, both of the female soldiers burst out laughing.
"Oh shush!" the Princess tutted, but smiled herself and was obviously not really cross with the two blonde warriors, who stifled their giggles and brought themselves to a semblance of attention.
"Better" nodded the Princess, patting one of them gently on the bottom, and stepped forward, bringing out a magnifying glass that she had thoughtfully provided for herself, and examined the matter at hand more closely.
"Hmmm" she said, then spoke no more for several minutes.
She reached out and roughly grabbed the Prince's hair, jerking his head forward so that he was staring directly at her milky and ample (but not excessive) bosom. Then she let go, and continued her magnified examination. The Princely prick had become erect and had doubled in size to almost nothing at all.
"Hmmm" she said again and then sighed.
"Pretty much as expected, I suppose."
"But... but you're not laughing?" prompted the Prince.
Princess Valerie shook her head decisively.
"Don't have much of a sense of humour, really. Everyone says so. Especially where men are concerned" and an expression of contempt came over her face, and her hand involuntarily jerked slightly, as if flicking a conductor's baton, or perhaps a riding whip.
