Prince Oliver skipped through the castle garden. He loved the green and the flowers. He was nineteen and yet to be married. In truth his parents had coddled him as a boy.
He knew his numbers and letters. He knew how to run a castle and a kingdom. On paper anyway. But he would never be a warlord. Never be a brave leader of men on the battlefield.
His golden ringlets framed a soft feminine face. His slight build was covered by a puffy shirt. His round ass under an oversized codpiece. One that covered the whole crotch area.
He certainly didn't need it. It's just what was in fashion.
He smiled at the cook's daughter. She was waiting under the small pavilion near the pond. Well out of eyesight of the guards. She was a few years his senior and wanted a baby. A royal bastard would set her up for life.
"Well met my prince, and right on time." She laughs delightedly as he skips over to her. Raising her hand to a half open bodice. Drawing his appreciative eye to her ample bosom. Her face may have been plain, but her tits were magnificent. She'd had a few offers for her hand just on her breasts alone.
"Well met, my beauty." Oliver smiles. He takes her hand and kisses first the back, then her palm. "Alas we haven't much time." He tells her. His smile dipping slightly into a frown.
Both his mother and father had woken with sickness this morning. He would need to get back to them before long.
Happily, the maid unbuttons the rest of her blouse. Tits nearly as big as her head spill out. The prince smiles like he has found a pot of gold and grabs them. Much to the girl's delight.
She moans as he plays with her boobs. Reaching down to untie his codpiece. The prince squeezing and sucking on her bountiful orbs.
His ridiculous codpiece falls and the maid drops to her knees. She grabs his tight breeches and tugs them down. She lets out a little gasp.
Looking down at the girl, Oliver mistakes her look for one if pleasant surprise. When in fact it's shock and disappointment.
'There's nothing. Nothing there except a button.' The girl thinks. The prince wasn't just not well endowed. He was laughably tiny. Not quite two inches erect, when soft the tip barely peeked out from his smooth flesh. Looking quite like a button indeed.
It didn't help that his balls had never descended, or that he couldn't grow hair anywhere on his body that was lower than his eyes.
"It's...it's so cute, m'lord." She says desperately. Leaning in and licking the little nub. Hoping against hope that the boy can even preform.
Oliver gasps and the girl gains confidence when the bump twitches. She sucks and licks the sad royal penis. It gets bigger in her mouth. Though when it stops growing it's still tiny.
The maid fights her disappointment as she lays down on her back. Lifting her skirts and spreading her legs. She had taken off her bloomers in the pantry. She knew there wouldn't be much time. The prince was so rarely allowed to be on his own.
Oliver grins. His eyes sliding up her white stockings, to her pale thighs, and onto her fuzzy muffin. Eagerly he lies between her legs. Trying to seem as if he has done this a hundred times.
In truth this was his first. He had heard the guards talk of their conquests and was quite sure he knew what's what. At least that's what he figured.
After missing for the third time the busty woman reaches down and guides the little penis inside her waiting pussy. Maybe an inch of cock.
"Oh! Your highness. You feel amazing." She assures him. Grabbing his ass and pulling him. Desperately helping him thrust into her.
He lasts nearly no time at all. The maid is both disappointed and relieved. He grunts as he drizzles his little cummies on her twat.
"Oh that was amazing my prince." She says. She uses two fingers to scoop up his warm jizz and shove it as deep in her cunt as she can.
"You were amazing yourself." He tells her. Pulling up his breeches and retying his codpiece.
She grins at the little twat as he saunters off.
Finally a man.
Oliver's parents went quick. Within days the King and Queen were dead. The young man was distraught. Still, he did his best to put on a brave face. For his people.
The funeral was a grand affair. People lined the streets. Eager to see the procession as it passed through the city.
Sitting in a carriage draped in black, the prince raised a perfumed kerchief to help dry his eyes.
"I'm sure your speech will be magnificent." The older man leans forward from the opposite seat. Taller and muscular, Lord Davos was the kings brother. And Oliver's closest relative. A tanned, muscular man, Davos was handsome and rugged. His big mustache wax always well trimmed and he only wore the finest clothes in public.
"When things settle down, I would like to offer my aid." He gives Oliver a friendly smile. "Your father often called on me for my expertise in political matters."
Oliver nodded thankfully. In truth he didn't even want to think about ruling. 'Let me just get through the funeral.' He thought.
Days later Oliver was just finishing breakfast. He was not yet technically the king. His uncle had convinced him to wait a month. As a suitable mourning period.
Davos was being such a big help. Single handedly taking care of all the business of state.
As the prince left the breakfast hall he found Davos waiting for him.
"Just a few things for you to sign, my boy." He smiled warmly at the prince. "Then why don't you join me in the bath. We can start the day as men do, on the trail."
Oliver wasn't entirely sure what his uncle meant. He was always worried that people didn't view him as masculine, though. And he definitely wanted to please Davos.
Soon they were in the marble bathing room. Four white pillars were set at the corners of a shallow pool.
Davos dismisses the servants leaving just him and the young prince. The handsome man disrobes and sits on the edge of the pool.
"We will do many great things for this kingdom, boy. We will make you a great king." He says patting the stone next to him.
Oliver takes his own cloths off and sits close to his uncle. Eager to hear what the older man has to say.
"One of the first things..." Davos starts. "Oh my. That's...you are very small." The older man was staring at Oliver's crotch. In a way that made the young man nervous.
"You really aren't much of a man, are you?" Davos says.
"I...I do my best, uncle." Oliver could feel the tears in his eyes at disappointing the older man.
Davos grabs Oliver by the young man's hips and lifts him easily onto his lap. The young prince barely even protesting at the treatment.
"You being a wimp will definitely make my plans easier." The older man gloats. He reaches between Oliver's legs and pinches the tip of the prince's dicklette cruelly.
Oliver squeals at the pain. Grabbing at the strong man's hands, but unable to remove them.
