Private Princess And A Harem Pt 01

This is a 2-part Romance (my first) story that provides plenty of fun. I took a LOT of liberty with reality in this story. I'm not making fun of England, saying they do it wrong, or trying to say any of this is based on fact. This is based loosely on the English Monarchy and is strictly a FUN story and should not be taken for anything but entertainment. I altered real history to fit the story to make it more entertaining. Comments that ignore this warning will be deleted.

Typically, I see something in real life that triggers a story idea. This one came out of the blue and flowed quickly and easily. I'm sorry for switching perspectives, but I wanted to show both points of view as they are very different, and I think adds to the story.

Everyone having sex is at least 18. This story is a work of fiction. I made it all up. Check reality at the door and enjoy it for what it is, a fun story. Special thanks to rancher46 and RF-Fast for editing my story and making it better.

*****

Chapter 1 -- A Private

Lars yells above the noise at the crowded and noisy bar, "Hey, hey guys! Give me a minute, please."

Around us, the noise quieted down.

Lars says in his commanding voice, "To Mark! After four years in this hell hole of a country, beating off the constant attacks, bombs, assassination attempts, and the WOMEN, the bastard's finally taking some leave!"

He's drunk; my name is Matt.

My whole squad cheers for me.

Lars yells loud enough to quiet the bar, "ATTENTION EVERYONE! A drink to all the good men that have fallen in this corner of hell!"

The Army bar is deathly silent as everyone knocks back a stiff one. In this God-forsaken country, nobody drinks just beer. You need a lot more than that to survive here.

Major Lars Garrison yells again, "May you enjoy your month of leave. God knows you've earned it."

My best friend Pat asks me, "So, mister big man. What's the plan? What things are you going to do?"

George yells out, "How many women are you going to fuck?!"

I snicker at them, "No, no. I'm going back to my roots in Montana. I want to go back into the open wilderness in the Rockies, where you can still live off the land and hike without seeing a car, sign, or telephone pole. No electricity, cell phone signal, bright lights, or noise. Just me, fresh air, and the quiet mountains."

To me, that's about as perfect as it gets. I grew up in a tiny town in the Rocky Mountains. All my free time was spent in those mountains.

Paul yells out, "What, do you fuck the animals?"

He's such an asshole. He seems too dumb and obnoxious to get himself killed. He's been here three tours. Thankfully, I won't ever see him again, as he finishes in a few weeks.

Pablo offers, "Matt can find pussy anywhere. If there is a young single woman within 100 miles, she will find him. They can't resist him. All those muscles and your good looks, oh yes, that mother fucker will run into a bus load of college girls, rescue them, and then fuck them all!"

My phone alarm goes off.

I say to my buddies, "That's it for me. I have a stateside plane to catch. A quick last shot on me!"

The group cheers for the free alcohol. We shoot a Tequila shot, and then I'm on my way to catch a plane. A jeep is waiting for me just outside the door. I have several long boring flights ahead of me. Afghanistan, Germany, New York, Chicago, Missoula, Montana, then a bus ride home. At least I will sleep well on the way.

It takes three days to get home and then two to sleep off the jet lag. The family has a huge party to welcome me back. I spent two days with my parents before getting restless for the mountains. I've timed it perfectly. The fall colors are turning. My dad drives me to my starting point. We hug, and then I am off with my rifle and backpack. I have a nice seven-day hike set up with two check-in points.

It's funny; I used to think I traveled heavy. With all the muscle I gained in the service, my pack feels half empty. In the service, everything we have is heavy-duty. My stuff, it's all super light. I'm really looking forward to this week of peace and solitude.

Chapter 2 -- A Princess

I am woken from my sleep by my assistant, Kim. I fell asleep on the long flight from England. My jet has a beautiful bedroom with all the conveniences I will ever need. This is a large jet, not a tiny business jet. There is plenty of room for me, my security, and my assistants. All of which but Jim, my loyal bodyguard, will have to stay on the plane.

We have just landed in the state of Montana in the good old United States. A country I have visited many times for business. My aunt, the Queen, sends me out to drum up business for the country and soothe ruffled feathers.

She hates it over here, so I make many official visits to keep both countries friends. Both countries do get along well. With so many people and politicians causing trouble, things come up. I am the best at smoothing those bumps.

However, this time I am here for something new. I am here to see this beautiful country. I am going "camping" in the mountains. I want to see the trees turning color. If we're lucky, I want to see wild bears, goats, buffalo, elk, moose, deer, and a cougar. The U.S. government is providing four secret service agents and four Army Rangers that are experts in wilderness survival.

My security service has done a thorough background check on all these men. They're all squeaky clean. Now that I see them, they're all young and cute as well.

I know what you're thinking, how does a princess go camping out in the wilderness? I have been trained and outfitted with the best equipment and by the best people. My life is structured and pampered; I never get to have fun. Security is always weary of people that want to kill a Royal. I want to know what it was like, hundreds of years ago. I want to see pristine land before it's made into condos and golf courses. Out here, there's no worry of crowds and assassinations.

England doesn't have vast expanses of land like the Rockies that are still untouched by man. When I say camping, my version is a bit different. I will be on an air mattress, I won't have a backpack, and I have a portable toilet. I am Royalty, you know; I can only "rough it" so much. I traded my high heels for hiking boots. I have several layers of shirts and light coats, so I don't get too hot or too cold. I have a poncho if it rains and a thick sleeping bag if it gets cold at night.

We have a satellite phone just in case I can't rough it. The Americans weren't fond of my security with guns walking around their country anywhere we wanted in the mountains. They're also afraid of terrorists who have been targeting my family. They did allow Jim and forced me to take the other eight specialists. With nine trained experts, I should be safe.

As Jim said, 'We can see them coming from miles away.' I can see his point. As the large limo is driving down the highway with a police escort, I can see the beautiful trees already. This is an amazing country out here.

We're being taken to a Ranger station that isn't accessible to the public. We will hike out from there this morning. It's only 8:00 am local; we can get a great head start. I'm excited about this trip.

*****

We stop for lunch at noon. My feet are sore. I sit on the dirty ground because I'm too tired to stand. Jim takes my feet and places them on his lap. He has his first aid kit out. What does he know?

Jim smiles at me, "Sorry, Princess Janet. You don't walk enough with heavy, brand-new shoes. Your feet must be sore."

No way I admit to being soft. He gently takes off my shoes and socks. He's careful as he massages my feet. That feels wonderful. I have blisters. He cleans the area, pops the blisters, cleans again, and adds a cream. Then he adds a pad and tapes it up. He has a second pair of socks for me already, and those go on.

Phillip, an American Ranger comments, "I was going to suggest a foot check; she was slowing down. I suspected at least sore feet, if not blisters. You should have broken the shoes in already. On a positive note, the weather is supposed to be awesome. Light clouds and no rain."

James adds, "Heh, things can change quickly in these mountains. We will see rain before we're done. Mark my words."

The four secret service agents don't talk. Their watching everything and everyone like a hawk.

After a lousy and straightforward meal, we are out hiking again. These mountains are as impressive as I suspected they would be. The colors are like a rainbow. I have some magnificent binoculars with me. I have seen a wild bear many miles away, and then elk, moose, wolves, and deer. The birds have a fantastic array of colors and sounds.

There are enough of us that the animals stay away. I'm glad they do, or my guards would shoot first. I saw an enormous eagle gliding through the air in the last hour. It dove and came away with something in its talons. He's so fast I can't keep my eyes on him with the binoculars unless I pull back a bunch on the magnification. I am so glad I took this time for a vacation.

*****

When the sun started to set, we set up camp, made a fire, and made dinner. Pouring water on a powder and calling it dinner is a crime. I almost can't stomach the food. It's terrible. Everyone has stories to tell around the campfire. Those Rangers are rascals. They got into a lot of trouble, and their stories were hilarious.

When I turn in, I have a large tent that I can stand in. They blew up the air mattress for me, but the ground was still hard and cold, and the sleeping bag was rough. It's like sleeping on sandpaper sheets. The scenery is terrific, but not sure I will last the entire week. The sleeping conditions are harsh. I never thought it would be so bad.

*****

Day two, and we come across a small waterfall that is breathtaking. The foliage is green and lush around the water. Many tracks lead to and from here, so I can't stay here very long. I take some video footage and some pictures to show my parents and friends when I get home.

At lunch, we do a foot check again. The massage is wonderful. This morning, Jim made us wear double socks, and it's helping a lot. My feet still hurt, but no blisters with two pairs of socks. The higher elevation means I must walk slower. That doesn't thrill them, but nobody's complaining.

Dinner is again terrible. All the meals have been abysmal. I understand freeze-dried, space-saving, but they're barely edible. I have bruises from sleeping on the cold, hard ground. The most humiliating part is having Jim watch over me as I pull down my pants and panties. I then use the tiny camping porta-potty. I will be forever thankful for not having to clean that up. Jim needs a raise.

Tonight, James killed a deer. They're in season, and he has a license. I had no idea you needed a permit to hunt. The Park Service needs to control their numbers, so they allow hunting to keep the population down. That meant that we had a stew for dinner. They had freeze-dried stew fixings; all we needed was fresh water and meat.

I know fine dining. No restaurant in Europe would serve that slop. However, after the crap we've been eating, I found it delicious. They added fresh water, spices, and thin strips of meat and combined it all in a plastic bag so it could marinate for a day. Tomorrow night they will cook and smoke it. That should be interesting to see.

Overall, this has been a pleasant trip. I was born and grew up in elegant buildings that were hundreds of years old but are some of the finest living conditions known to man. I'm getting a slight glimpse of how the common people live. I know my life is privileged. Very few people have it as good as I do. I guess this is an excellent experience for me. I get to see how people used to live. Heck, many countries still live like this. Amazing.

I'm tired, and my feet are sore. I would love for Jim to massage them again, but I can't ask him to do that ... unless they get worse.

Chapter 3 -- Vacation

I am two days into my trip. I still have plenty of freeze-dried food packages; I don't need to hunt yet. I have seen enough wildlife that I know I will have no issues. Humans have driven most of the natural predators up into Canada or killed them off. The wildlife needs some thinning. I would start killing, but the army taught me to conserve my ammo. When I need meat, I will hunt.

I heard a rifle shot today. It was far off, but it still surprised me. We're in a remote part of the park. The elevation keeps many tourists away. After growing up here, I'm used to it. Being in fantastic shape doesn't hurt.

At night I can see a big fire far to the North. They are about a day ahead of me. I don't want to run into a group when I am by myself; that only leads to trouble. I will stay far from them. The colors are stunning. A week either way, and it wouldn't be nearly as splendid. I love the peace and quiet I was seeking, and it's just as awesome as I remember.

It's funny, it's been almost five years since I was last here, and nothing has changed. Oh, sure, the young trees are bigger, sturdier, but the overall view is almost the same. It's breathtaking. This is precisely what I needed.

I'm near the top of a ridge, so my view is superb. To the West, I see storm clouds coming. Most people would say it's just darker skies. I have been out here enough to know that could be dangerous. I need to seek a lower elevation route. No caves in this area, so, no place to hide. That other group is quite a bit North of me; that's bad. They're too high. Their metal will be natural conductors for lightning unless they're smart.

I hear the distant sounds of a helicopter. That's good; the group is leaving before the storm comes in. They're smart. I recognize the sound before I can determine what model it is. Oh? It's an old Huey. From the sound, I know it's an old one from Nam. The newer ones have different engines and are much quieter. Like the old Huey's, twin fifty-caliber machine guns are mounted on the sides. The doors are open, allowing the guns more range of motion.

I also see two other men with guns in their hands. No name or markings on the aircraft make it even more suspicious. I hug the tree I'm near and work to keep my profile as small as possible.

What the fuck is that? Are they the good guys or the bad guys? No markings; they're the bad guys. At least the good guys will hear them coming. The pilot isn't from around here. No way in hell any pilot goes flying with that front coming in. Ok, as soon as they pass, I will follow them. If they leave anyone alive, I might be able to save them.

I had been walking for the last few days; I have a heavy pack. Now, I am almost jogging as I move down to a lower elevation, then I can follow the chopper's direction through the trees. I'm running as fast as I can. I'm too far away to be much help. With any luck, someone will survive. How did they know to turn?

*****

It wasn't long before the helicopter landed. How do they know where their target is? I can see it now. They're following our tactics. These are American servicemen or at least trained by them. They fly within a few miles, run in, snipe them from a distance, then fly back out. People on vacation won't have sniper rifles. They will have hunting rifles, but it's much harder to kill someone peeking around a tree. With four of them, the targets can't hide. One or more will have clear shots IF they're patient.

If they are patient, that's terrible news for the hunted. Yes, I am on my way, but I am at least four hours away. They will have gone in, killed, and then come back out again before I get there. They still have sniper rifles to my regular rifle, but I have the element of surprise. They have no clue I exist. So much for peace and quiet. I should ignore this; it's obvious trouble. However, if I can save someone, I need to try. I'm a soldier; I protect our country and our citizens. I will help.

At least I have my fatigues on. I blend into the foliage well, even when moving. This is my dad's old uniform, so it's made with splotches rather than the new digital-looking uniform. We share the same last name, so I didn't have to remove the last name on the uniform. A lot of dad's friends are from the war. I was supposed to meet them my last week out here. It doesn't look like that will happen.

What a way to fuck up my vacation. I see enough God damn killing; I don't need more here at home. They have pissed me off.

The sun is going down three hours later when I hear several sniper rifles fire. I hear a burst of handgun fire before I hear more sniper shots. Then there is just one more sniper shot.

FUCK!!! I'm too late. They moved fast on foot; they were at least three hours ahead of me.

OH, THANK YOU, GOD!

I just came out of a copse of trees and into a small clearing. In this clearing is a Huey helicopter. Also in the clearing is the pilot with a weapon in his hand. He's looking towards the gunshots and never saw me. I set my backpack down and silently sneak up on him.

Apparently, I'm not quite as good as they show in the movies. He must have heard me. He's turning his body towards me. As he notices me, his eyes go wide in fear. In slow motion, I see his arm rising to shoot me. I already have my knife in my hand. I have never thrown it before, but I figure I have a fifty percent chance of it hitting him with the pointy part.

I did learn later that it was only a twenty-five percent kill chance. The point, handle, blade edge, and back blade edge could have hit him. Only the point can kill. Luck was with me. I hit him right in the heart. The look of surprise on his face will haunt me for years, just like everyone else I have killed.

The good news is that the point hit him. The bad news is that the shock made him pull the trigger of his gun. No, it was never near me; I'm fine. However, now four men know that someone else is in the area. That I could have done without.

The whole point of using my knife was to keep surprise.

If these are mercenaries, they will fear a kill the killer situation. They're going to go east or west. There are no towns north, and I'm south. I came from the east, but the west is closer to where the helicopter came from. They might loop back as well, so they can use the helicopter. Those men didn't have the equipment and weren't dressed for a storm and cold nights.

I use my handy dandy knife to puncture the gas tanks. I see there is no radio. Did they take it with them? I stab the battery. No power for any radio they have. I hide my backpack 100 yards south of the helicopter. I take just a few items and two MRE with me. An MRE is a decent meal. It's heavier than freeze-dried, but it's a hell of a lot better. I brought a few to help me stay sane.

Now I'm running towards the shooting and hoping I can save someone.

Chapter 4 -- Distressed Princess

We had a fabulous day today. My feet are feeling better, the ground didn't seem as hard, but the swill they call food is still barely tolerable. I know I must eat it to survive. I'm burning calories at an alarming rate from all the hiking. Yet it's gross. It's like lumpy water with chunky bits of flavor. Such a far cry from what I'm used to. The scenery is still impressive. I saw elk and moose today. I also found out there are no buffalo here; they're in a different park. Maybe on the way home, we can fly near them.

The marinated deer meat is strung up on skewers above the large fire. They start with medium heat. The fire isn't fanned back up; they're cooking it on a lower heat. The Secret Service agents do talk, and there is a heated discussion on how to cook the beef jerky.

It isn't long before there is an odd noise coming from the valley below. I have no idea what it is, but all the men are spooked. Jim comes closer to me. The Secret Service agents take off their jackets revealing camouflage before grabbing their sidearms and going into the woods. The Rangers are already dressed, and they drop everything to run off into the woods. Each goes in a different direction.