A Royal Flushing

The Gulfstream G450 is an astoundingly smooth and luxurious ride in the hands of expert pilots, and the Prince's crew was truly exceptional--some of the best money could buy. The rich, full-bodied burgundy showed hardly a ripple on the dining table in the main quarters, next to medallions of Kobe beef in Roquefort cream sauce, roasted garlic lemon broccoli, and small golden potatoes sprinkled with Asiago cheese.

Piping hot, prepared to his precise wishes, the first taste of the main course coincided with the dual pleasure of his cock slowly entering the warm mouth of the pretty young "flight attendant" nestled under the table, dutifully attending to her task of seeing to the Prince's every desire. Her long hair tickled and teased his bare thighs, and her arms reached around his waist as her face settled in between his legs. She got comfortable, because there was no hurry. She knew the Prince well, and she was skilled enough to keep him engaged throughout most of his dinner.

The Prince had dined this way, pants around his ankles and feeding one of his girls, often times before. While enjoying the warm mouth on his member, he also usually felt it to be a bit absurd. Sometimes he looked at his life as an outsider might see it and it struck him as a surrealistic comedy. But then he mentally shrugged his shoulders and went back to the extraordinary meal and the tender attention being paid to his genitals.

He wondered if there were hidden cameras in the cabin and if the flight crew might be laughing at him right now. But then he took another bite of the steak and dismissed the thought. So what? They were just employees. Subjects, actually. He was the one enjoying the fabulous meal and the blowjob, not them. Fuck them.

There were probably not cameras, thought the Prince, since his plane was a hand-me-down from his much older brother, the Crown Prince. The Crown Prince, 38, now commanded a Bombardier Global 6000 with bespoke interior, and was often out racing around the world, meeting with the important and powerful, negotiating, building alliances, and just being so fucking important. And fucking his girls, of course. But when his brother got the 6000, the Prince inherited the Gulfstream, and that wasn't a bad deal at all. So probably no cameras. No one would dare spy on and laugh at the Crown Prince, at least if they were not anxious for a view of their internal organs in alphabetical order.

Oh damn that Wagyu is delicious. I may never eat anything else in my life!.

But the blowjob was only pretty good. At 24, the Prince didn't have any trouble staying hard, but it wasn't like he had to try really hard not to cum either. It was like so many other blowjobs he had gotten from these girls before. It was almost as if they were choreographed. Swirl the tongue here, then play with the balls there. Faster, slower. Then deep throat. Then gag a little, right about at the same place each time. A little moan so he could feel the vibrations. That was usually about 20 minutes in.

Did the same person train all the girls? Who was she? Or he? All this wondering was spoiling his dinner. He actually would prefer it if she would just stop and he could concentrate on the steak, but he wouldn't do that. He never knew if she would be chastised or punished if he didn't finish. Did she have to report back that he was satisfied? Was she graded? He didn't want to get anyone in trouble. They all seemed to be nice girls, as far as he could tell. So he soldiered on, steak and oral stimulation. He hoped she wouldn't get a sore neck.

Some time later the Prince was finishing up his dinner, and the girl was pressing on like a trooper. She had gone through her entire repertoire at least twice. He really need to wrap it up, and so he mentally replayed a wild and sensual evening with his girlfriend in Paris, in his suite at the George V. Oh my, what a body. What a lover.

Was she really his girlfriend if they were both completely dishonest with each other? Businesswoman, high fashion model, courtesan? He really could not care less what she was because she drove him wild with her skills and her unpredictable array of excitements and surprises. What a body, assembled from who knew how many nationalities and races. If she could be cloned he was sure he could triple his own personal fortune from the rentals. She always wiped him out, kicked his ass, and left him spent and half dead. What a girl. He was sure he didn't know her real name. He never had her vetted by his country's security services, but shit, his father probably had. His father probably had

himself

interrogated weekly, the paranoid bastard.

And did she believe his story about being an international entrepreneur and financier? Did she have

him

investigated? He stopped wondering some time back. They had a blast, and she seemed to really get off, and so what if he paid for everything? There was always plenty of money. The King and the Crown Prince were just happy if the Prince didn't bother them, so off he went to the US and Europe, and sometimes to Japan and Korea, and stayed out of their hair. More beef, more blowjobs. He could live like that.

So he replayed the final 3 minutes of their most recent assignation, and that did the trick in spades. The girl under the table might have let her mind wander a bit, and wasn't quite ready for the flood of goo that almost blew the back of her head off. The Prince heard her head bump the dinner table and sounds of gulping that were not part of the scripted routine. This amused him as he emptied himself into her--a different kind of cream sauce.

A considerate man, he reached under the table and handed her his napkin. She cleaned him up, and herself, and emerged. Her back and neck was indeed sore, but she was young and would get over it. She smiled prettily, bowed, and left him to pull up his pants and go off to shower and change before landing at the capital city's airport.

His landing had to wait for a half hour because the Crown Prince's aircraft and the King's absurdly opulent Airbus ACJ 319 had priority on their private landing strip. The Prince was used to being slighted like this, but had never overcome the bitterness he felt each time.

Why does that asshole need a fucking airliner to haul him around?

He hated his father and older brother, and tried to think of them as little as possible.

His limo and usual driver was waiting, and in minutes he was at the Palace, and in his suite of rooms.

*

Shoes off, feet up, with two fingers of GlenDronach single malt scotch in hand, the Prince contemplated the evening. He texted the House Mother of the gaggle of girls who entertained the royals, and she responded with "Yes, of course. Something special tonight. Please come to the Dormitory at your convenience, Your Highness."

Let's see what the old bat has for me then,

thought the Prince, as he slipped on loafers and made his way to the lower levels.

His thumbprint allowed him entry into the Dormitory, where he passed through a reception area, through another access door, and into the living quarters. About 30 girls of about 18-20 years lived there at any given time, and all were available on short notice to the King, Crown Prince, and Prince. The senior royals were planning an early departure to the northeast of the kingdom tomorrow to meet with a regional governor, and so he would be having first choice tonight. The Prince would be the only one served.

The girls knew that any of the three had access here whenever they pleased, but the Prince was amused at how some of them were always a bit startled to see a man suddenly in their (marginally) private spaces. He heard showers running, girl talk in the main dormitory, and here and there caught a girl in just her panties or even nude going from here to there. They always made to cover themselves, then realized that this was forbidden, and then relaxed their arms to appear natural and unembarrassed. This made them look very embarrassed, and the Prince was always pleased to see it.

He stopped to chat with one of the nude girls that he recognized (also, there was always someone new and some familiar faces no longer there. Where did they go?), only because she had to stand there naked and make small talk.

Is that a new hairstyle?

Oh, yes, I like it short.

You keep it short down there as well, I see. Very nice.

Could he make one blush? That was always fun.

The House Mother approached, and greeted the Prince in that annoying, fawning way she had. He imagined that every night she dreamed about slitting his throat. Her craven subservience did not dissuade him from that suspicion. It went both ways.

A thought suddenly occurred to him: Was she the one who instructed the girls on their oral techniques? Was she why their blowjobs seems so similar? He hoped not. That would seem far too much like getting sucked off by the House Mother herself, a thought that would soften the stiffest hard-on.

"Your Highness, what a pleasure it is to see you! Welcome back to the Palace. Your every desire is ours to fulfil!"

"Yes, fine, thank you. You mentioned something special?"

"Oh yes, very special. Right this way if you please."

She led the way to a tiled room with showers along the walls, and two Vichy Shower tables in the center. On each of the tables was a naked girl, probably 18, on her stomach with her legs spread. A rough-looking female attendant was soaping each of the girls up vigorously, scrubbing them enthusiastically from neck to feet, and paying particular attention between their legs. Sometimes an attendant would insert a finger into the anus of one of the girls and she would emit a yip or a gasp.

The Prince watched, enjoying the show obviously staged for his benefit.

"They must be sparkling clean for Your Highness, of course."

The girls were turned over and soaped and scrubbed just as thoroughly. Their breasts did not like the harsh treatment, and the Prince would have preferred it wasn't so rough.

"Ladies, please don't wear them out before I can enjoy them. A little lighter touch if you don't mind."

"Yes, much too hard!" scolded the House Mother. "Who taught you how to bathe a girl? You heard the Prince!"

(The attendants knew that they were taught my the House Mother personally, and in fact instructed to treat the girls more harshly than they were doing right now. But they dared not correct her.)

Finally, still on their backs, the girls were told to hold their legs behind their knees, and lift them up and spread themselves. More soap was applied, this time gently, with the Prince watching, and their genitals were bathed. The Prince looked into each of their eyes, and they looked away in humiliation. The bathing went on longer than was necessary for cleansing.

Then they were rinsed, and stood naked in front of the Prince for inspection. Of course they were beautiful and perfect, because all of the girls in the Dormitory were. They were both fit, as the Prince preferred. One was tall and the other short.

"You are pleased, Your Highness? Shall I send them to you?"

"They are quite lovely. And please be more gentle when bathing them in future."

"Of course, Your Highness. For your own girls. But the King and the Crown Prince have their own requirements and preferences, and of course we must all obey."

The Prince had an idea what she meant, but didn't want to think of what that might entail specifically.

"Of course. Send them up in 30 minutes."

"Yes, Your Highness."

*

Exactly 30 minutes and zero seconds later the chime to his rooms sounded, and he let the girls in. They both wore only short gold silk robes and gold slippers. The robe barely covered the tall girl's cute bottom. They had not been scented, because that was the Prince's preference. He led them into his massive bedroom, near the massive bed, and turned to face them. They looked down, fearing to make eye contact. The tall one was trembling.

They remained dressed because they had not been instructed otherwise. Sometimes the King and Crown Prince liked to strip them. Sometimes they liked them dressed, and to rip their clothes off. The Crown Prince wanted his girls to resist being stripped so he could violently tear their garments and force them. Neither of the girls had been with the Prince before. So they waited.

"It's permitted to look at me," said the Prince. "I will inspect your body," addressing the tall girl. He gently removed her robe, and she stepped out of her slippers. He saw her for the first time dry and standing. She was lovely, perhaps 5-8 and 120 pounds, young, with pretty little breasts and neatly trimmed public hair. "Very nice." He stroked her body, teasing her nipples, brushing by her genitals. She kept her arms slightly away from her body, and her legs apart, allowing him access to her. "Turn around."

She obeyed, and presented a perfect round bottom and long, slim legs. There were no tan lines, but the Prince noticed horizontal marks on her ass and thighs.

"What is this, dear?"

The tall girl began to cry, begging, "Please don't be displeased, Your Highness. Please don't send me back. I...I'll...we'll do anything. Anything you want. Please!"

She kept her pose as the Prince touched her bottom and legs gently. "Have you been beaten?"

"Y...yes, Your Highness. Sometimes they punish us for some reason they say, and sometimes they just enjoy beating us. It is their right! It is your right! Let us pleasure you, I will do anything. Please." She remained with her back turned, body shaking slightly as she cried in fear. The short girl kept her eyes down, not knowing what to do.

The prince took the tall girl by her shoulders and turned her around to face him. "I am not displeased. You will not be sent back. I will report that you have both been delightful and that your skills and efforts have been extraordinary regardless of what happens tonight. Calm yourself, dear. You have nothing to fear."

This only made the tall girl cry harder, but with gratitude and relief. The short girl exhaled and relaxed. Then the tall girl realized that she was behaving oddly and reclaimed her composure. She dried her tears, straightened her posture, caught her breath, and smiled shyly. "Thank you for your mercy, Your Highness. How may we please you?"

The Prince turned toward the short girl and in a second slipped off her robe, revealing her charms. The short girl was surprised, and blushed. Her nipples were hard. But she made no effort to cover herself. This was fundamental to serving the royal men, and was ingrained early in their training. Her petite body was quite beautiful, and her breasts larger than her partner's.

"Are you two friends? Are you close?"

The short girl replied, "Yes, Your Highness. This is encouraged in the Dormitory. We are instructed to learn new ways to offer pleasure to our masters, and they often command us to stimulate each other and teach each other. And yes, I do have true affection for my friend here as well. We often share a bed."

"I see. Then share my bed with your lover."

The girls climbed onto the Prince's bed, their nude bodies appearing smaller than normal since the bed was nearly 600 square feet. They were unsure of what to do next. They were always directed, handled, even forced to serve the men. They looked to the Prince. They did not expect to hear this:

"I'm very curious about the end of a very important football match, so I'm going to be in the next room watching it. I love football. Now, I assume you girls have little or no real private time together, so you are welcome to enjoy yourselves on this absurdly oversize bed, and to make use of the bathroom and shower facilities as well.

"This is your personal time to be with each other. Take advantage of the opportunity for this truly private time. This is my command and I expect obedience."

The Prince left, with the beautiful naked girls left on the giant bed in total surprise. They whispered, is this true? Is it a trick? Then they decided they should obey the Prince no matter what. They lay back and embraced, kissing and holding each other. They had never had a time like this. Even when they were allowed to make love it was in an open dormitory. Most of the girls would look away, as they themselves looked away when others were embracing. A few girls watched intently when others made love. So they were never really alone in private. Until now.

They whispered endearments, kissed each other lightly and lovingly, and held each other tight. After some time they gained enough confidence to truly believe what the Prince had said, and began to sexually excite each other. The tall girl's breasts were exceptionally sensitive, and her lover knew well how to make her climax just by tender and sweet caresses and kisses, holding her arms above her head while she lay on her back. The short one liked to be positioned on all fours, and her lover used her hands lavishly all over her body, until eventually she would lower herself to her elbows, with her lovely round bottom in the air, and have her pussy and anus teased and stroked until she came and came.

They knew each other's desires, but had never had such a luxurious and beautiful environment to enjoy each other's bodies. They tried new things, stopped to rest, and even fell asleep for a short time. When they kissed they tased their own juices. They cried together when they realized this was not going to be their new life, but that it would end soon.

Finally, the girls put on their robes and knocked at the door to the next room. The Prince answered the door, laughing. "The match was over an hour ago. I had to actually read a book! You two had a lot of catching up to do I suppose," winking mischievously.

"Yes, Your Highness," said the short girl. "We are so grateful for this opportunity. You are very kind."

"But now the question is, who had the most fun? And who worked the hardest to give it to her? Come here and get rid of those robes. Now, open your legs for me, both of you."

The girls were confused, but obeyed immediately, spreading themselves wide. The Prince inspected the short girl's pussy, and slipped a finger inside. She made a little sound. He held out his finger for the girl to taste herself, and she smiled. Then he tested the tall girl, who sighed, and then was also offered a taste of herself.

"Your friend is

exceptionally

wet," said the Prince, addressing the short girl. You have obviously been the better lover." Both girls tittered. "So now you must spank your friend for being second best. Sit in this chair and taker her over your lap."

Used to physical punishment, the girls quickly took their positions. Would the Prince be like the others? Would this be a time of pain and abuse? The tall girl kept her head down.

"Now, spank your friend...exactly how you want me to spank you," instructed the Prince, enjoying the view of the tall girl's bottom on her friend's lap. Relieved, the short girl got the idea immediately, and began a series of gentle slaps and smacks on her lover's rump. She spread her legs apart, and attended to her thighs as well. When her friend's legs and ass were a nice pink, she stroked her lower body with her fingertips until the tall girl moaned and writhed. Then she teased the girl's pussy and clit, and it didn't take long for the tall girl to climax powerfully.

The Prince loved to watch pretty girls cum.

The Prince allowed them a moment to recover, and then the short girl was taken over the Prince's lap and given the same treatment. She was already aroused by all the previous lovemaking, and by making her friend cum moments before. The prince's hand took charge of her soaking wet pussy, and he enjoyed the view as the small girl came and came as he penetrated her and stroked her hard. The short girl looked up at her friend watching her being taken, and when their eyes met the most powerful orgasm hit her like a tidal wave. She collapsed in the Prince's lap, exhausted.