The Prince And The Countess Ch 01

Author's note: I like to let readers know what they're in for before a story starts, so here we go. This story is completed and is currently 41K words and will be posted in roughly 5 chapters (although future edits may change things up, especially depending on feedback, as I might add or remove stuff). It's primarily about our little shit of a protagonist called William Hardwood, who is engaged to the woman of his dreams. Unfortunately, he has to deal with her mother, Countess Dominique Lamb, who is a domineering, cruel, controlling and terrifying woman. She may or may not also secretly be a perverted sex fiend.

As far as fetishes go, there are several little ones here and there, but the primary, big three draws of this story will be:

1. Tall, wildly voluptuous women with fat asses and massive, enormous tits.

2. Public, risky sex and nudity with high chance of getting caught.

3. An older, dominant woman controlling a younger, inexperienced man. This includes non-consensual sex and blackmailing (which the main character finds sexually stimulating, so it's not going against site rules).

Later on in future chapters, there will also be some pretty intense incest, including mother/daughter combinations, so just a heads up there.

So if you don't find the above sexy, or are against any of those things, then this story is not for you.

Tone-wise, this is my least grimdark work. With reference to my other stories, The Baroness and the Orc would be a grimdark level 10/10, while Avara the Orc would be a 6 or 7/10. This one would be a 5/10. There is non-consent, which does provide some darkness, and one death later on in the story, and most of the characters are massively immoral and you could even call them pieces of shit, but other than that, the tone is surprisingly comedic, if darkly comedic.

(And just as an FYI to the fans of my other works, this story does not contain my usual futa orcs on page, but they do technically exist in the world and are mentioned in passing. They might appear in a future volume.)

So if all that sounds good, then continue on.

***

Prince William Hardwood leaned against the stone railing to the manor's gardens, looking out at the impressive green scenery. It didn't help. Anxiety twisted his stomach in knots.

"If that isn't the most beautiful sight you've ever seen," said Hugh to his right, a wistful tone to his voice.

"And the gardens aren't too bad, either," said Nicholas to his left with a forlorn sigh.

Of course, they were staring at the new servant and her obscene breasts. They were large, and the servant attire didn't do much to help keep them up and firm where they should have been. And so as she went to and fro--seeing to the guests at the small morning fete, bending to pick up that plate or this cup from the breakfast table out by the rows of lush trees--her breasts swayed and swung and bounced about quite crudely.

"You two are incorrigible," said Will, shaking his head.

Sir Hugh Daintlith the knight and Nicholas Fletcher the scribe. Somehow, these two perverts had become Will's best friends, and he was stuck with them.

"Oh, come now, Will," said Hugh with that winning smile of his. The knight roughly patted Will on the back, shaking him about in the process. It was easy to do, considering Hugh was over six feet, and Will was shorter than any other man he knew. "You've just come of age. These are times of celebration, my friend. The whole world is spreading its legs open for you, you've just got to know how to mount it."

"You want to fuck the world now?" asked Will. "Your aspirations are soaring dramatically as we speak."

Nicholas sighed again. "I wish I could fuck the world. You've got all the luck, Hugh."

Will looked about, worried someone was going to overhear. "Do you two ever talk about anything other than sex?"

"How could we?" asked Nicholas, his eyes fixed on the new servant. "When something like that is walking around in front of you? Does anyone else have the sudden thirst for milk, or just me?"

"She'll be mine before the week is out," said Hugh.

Nicholas yet again gave one of his trademark depressed sighs. "Yes, you're probably right. Once more, I'll have to rely on the consolation of mine own hand, red and raw and exhausted as it is. You could save some for us one of these days, you know."

Will shook his head, waving their conversation away. "The two of you are mad, I tell you, just mad. I mean look at her." He gave the servant girl a good looking at. "That's the complete opposite of what I find attractive in a woman. She's...well, she's

tall

. And she obviously eats too much."

"Those are called hips and an ass, my virgin friend," said Hugh.

"And...and...well, those

teats

. She looks like a milk cow."

Nicholas only leaned his chin harder into his hand. "Wish I could go milking."

Hugh flung his head back in laughter. "And what, pray tell, kind of woman do you prefer, my prince?"

Will smiled, the perfect image coming to mind. "Someone short. Shorter than me. Demure. Shy. Soft-spoken. Kind-hearted. And physically? Dainty. Someone petite and comfortable to hold onto. Someone I can pick up. Fair skin and hair. A humble smile. Angelic. Yes, that's the girl for me."

"How fortuitous for you, then," said Hugh.

He was referring to the younger Countess Edith Lamb, of course.

The very woman Will was scheduled to meet in a few minutes.

He squeezed his hands, and found them far too clammy. Countess Lamb. He had never met her, but all the descriptions said she was exactly like the ideal woman he conjured in his head. It was perfect. Things had been difficult growing up, but now life was finally starting to turn around.

Sure, he had five older brothers that were ahead of him to inherit the tiny kingdom of Nussex, meaning he himself was basically politically useless. Sure, they were all taller and more robust than him. Sure, he was hardly given any consideration when a match was made for him, as no other house wanted their daughter to marry the sixth son of a king of a small kingdom. And certainly, his father was overbearing, unfair, and cruel.

But all that didn't matter anymore. Somehow, against all odds, the matriarch of the Lamb family had offered her youngest daughter to be courted when they had both come of age.

And that time was now. Will was a man, officially of age, and Edith was a woman.

And he was terrified.

"Just don't screw it up," said Nicholas, still staring down at the people. "Don't mention your books. Women hate men who talk about reading. Believe me, I know. Never works."

"They say Countess Lamb is actually quite the well-read woman and connoisseur of the arts," said Will, a smile on his face.

"Don't go into any speeches about tax policy or orc relations or history," said Hugh.

"They say Countess Lamb has quite the kind heart towards the common people, and wants peace to reign through the kingdom."

"And remember what they say about the older Countess Lamb," said Hugh. "You may be hearing reports of your perfect woman, but keep in mind those very same rumors describe the matriarch of the family as one cruel, mean, impossible to please woman."

Will's short-lived high spirits plummeted upon remembering about the matriarch of the Lamb family. "Oh yes," he said. "No worries there. I'll just be the ideal gentleman."

"You do that," said Hugh, leaning forward as the new servant girl bent down and began scrubbing a table with a cloth. Her hanging breasts swung back and forth. It was outright grotesque in Will's opinion. Hugh balled a fist and bit his lip. "That's it, I'm talking to her. There's no holding me back."

Their gallant knight was off, and Nicholas sighed. "Now why didn't I think of doing that?" he said, shaking his head.

But Will couldn't stay and watch the entertainment. There was some activity down on the green to the side where large glass doors exited into the vast yard. Some men-at-arms and lessor nobles milled about, along with some older men who looked like advisors.

And then he saw her.

Countess Edith Lamb.

She was...

...perfect.

Exactly as he imagined her. The same age as him, short and petite, fair and demure. She wore a light gown, her hair was blonde and fell to her chin, framing her face.

"It's her," whispered Will.

"Oh," said Nicholas, his attention finally pulled away from the table below. "So it is."

The next several minutes were like a dream. If Nicholas said something else, Will didn't hear it. He drifted, as if under a spell, toward Countess Lamb and her entourage. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he should have held back, waited for an official meeting, deferred to the wishes of his overbearing father. But he couldn't. His feet carried him of their own accord, and soon he was down on the vibrant grass next to hedges and gardens, being introduced to his future wife.

He didn't know what he said or did. He was captivated by Countess Lamb's light blue eyes. They were shy, fluttering downward as he looked at her. A little smile played at the edge of her lips. People talked. The formal greetings were carried out. Kissing of the cheeks, of course, was reserved for those who well knew each other. But the man kissing an offered hand of a lady was expected, even of newly met strangers, and so when Will took her tiny hand in his and he placed his lips to her fingers, he almost fainted right then and there.

And when it was all over and done with, somehow, beyond all logic, Will found himself arm in arm with his fiance, slowly strolling down the length of the hedge garden. Alone. The sun was bright without being too warm, the birds chirped, the wind was gentle.

And Countess Lamb looked up at him with an adoring smile.

"I was so nervous," she said, brushing away a strand of hair from her face. "I didn't know what to think about you. But I'm relieved now."

"Relieved?" said Will.

"Well, you're handsome, of course," she said. "And taller than me."

Will couldn't stop himself from smiling. It wasn't difficult to be taller than Countess Lamb, seeing as she was exceptionally short. But still, with his stature--standing no more 5'4" or so--it was still an amazing thing to hear.

"It's...quite a relief to see you finally as well, Countess Lamb." He hoped he was saying the right thing.

"Oh, please, you don't have to be so formal with me. Just call me Edith. After all, we're to be married, aren't we?"

"Hopefully so," said Will with a smile. "And you can call me William, or, Will, actually. Everyone close to me calls me Will."

"I'll do that, Will."

They continued their leisurely stroll, the grass soft underfoot. Will didn't want the moment to end.

"So, how was the journey from Cliteroe?" he asked. "The road wasn't too rough, I hope."

"Oh, it was fine. Uneventful, at least. Well, to be honest, I quite enjoyed it." Edith gave a little laugh and looked away. "I suppose I don't get out too much, so any journey is lovely to me. Nussex has such beautiful countryside. And I believe I'll enjoy my life in Ryebury. A larger town than I'm used to, but still quaint."

"That's good to hear. I'm glad no bandits happened upon you."

"But of course, I

did

travel with my mother. And that's always trying."

"Oh? How so?"

"Well, let's just say she can be a bit overbearing. Controlling, really. It's always a bit stressful spending too much time with her. I do hope you get along with her."

The image of a nagging, withered shrew came to Will's mind. Unfortunate, but it would just be something he'd have to handle. "I know how that can be," he said.

"You do?"

"Oh yes. My father is exactly the same way. It seems like the older he gets, the angrier he gets. He's seventy now, so you can imagine."

Edith laughed. "Oh, well, mother is actually only forty-three, but still, she has the spirit of a tyrant, you could say."

Will scrunched his brows together. "She's only forty-three?"

"

What do you think you're doing?

"

Will flinched. The voice came from behind them. It was a woman's voice, full and powerful, with a commanding air and a deep tone. The complete opposite of Edith's reserved soft voice.

Edith's arm tensed in Will's, and she spun around. "Oh, mother." She quickly unlocked elbows with Will. "I thought you were still getting settled back at the new manor."

Will turned around.

And then angled his head upward.

His senses were completely knocked away. Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw. Using logic, he had assumed that Edith's mother would simply be an older version of herself. He originally imagined a crone--no doubt spurred on by all the poor rumors of the woman--and had quickly adjusted his expectation when Edith had told him she was only forty-three years old.

What he was

not

expecting was what Countess Dominique Lamb truly was.

She was tall. At least six feet, and her heels brought her taller. She looked down on Will and Edith like a cruel queen looking down on groveling subjects. Her skin was a deep tan, opposed to Edith's fair shade. Her face was strong, jaw tensed, chin cleft, lips full, eyebrows scowling. Her eyes were a piercing blue, deeper and sharper than her daughter's faint blue. Her hair was the same shade of blonde, but it was cut shorter, and styled so it stuck straight upward.

Her body was also completely opposite of Edith's. The faces of Hugh and Nicholas quickly flashed into Will's mind, mouths gaping and eyes going big and bulging from their heads as they tripped over themselves.

Countess Lamb was absurdly voluptuous. Her hips were wide, stretching her dark dress, and her legs were long and full, the high slit revealing almost all of them. Her ass was enormous, sitting high and somehow almost perfectly round, testing the limits of the dress. Her stomach and midsection were narrower.

And of course, her breasts were the most shocking thing about her. They were large. Excessively large. Grotesquely large, in Will's opinion. They dwarfed the breasts of the new servant girl, many times over. Her dress did it's best to lift them upward, turning them into unnaturally round shapes, but they still hung down onto her torso, heavy as they must have been. The neckline to her dress was plunging, revealing an obscene amount of cleavage. It was outright scandalous.

And it was all directly eye-level with Will.

Her enormous breasts were only a few feet directly away form his head.

He swallowed deeply. Audibly.

"Do you take me for a snail?" asked Countess Lamb to her daughter. "Moving about the world at a pace so slow I can't traverse from one building to another in a morning?"

"Of course not, mother," said Edith, looking down. "This is Prince Hardwood, mother. We've just met."

"Yes, I see that. All the gossip was true, it seems." She looked him up and down with a sneer at the edge of her lips.

"Uh, what exactly does that m--" said Will.

Countess Lamb cut him off. "He's lacking manners as well, I see."

"Oh...um..."

She raised her hand, offering it to Will.

"Oh, yes, of course." He didn't have to stoop to kiss her fingers as he did with Edith. His lips pressed against her bared skin, and he found several rings on her fingers with glistening gemstones, unlike her daughter's hand. When he stepped back, he found he couldn't keep looking at the woman long. The uncontrollable urge to avert his gaze overtook him every time he tried to keep eye contact. Another part of him wanted those eyes to then linger on her chest, simply for the spectacle of it, but he wouldn't allow himself to do that either. It was like looking at the sun.

Which he did right then. "Sunny day out," he said, looking up and squinting in pain.

"So then," said Countess Lamb. "I've instilled every manner of decorum into you from a young age, Edith, and what is it I see immediately upon arriving? The two of you, walking together alone, unaccompanied, without a chaperon."

The tone of her voice sent guilt and shame through Will. "Oh, it was entirely my fault. I do so apologize, I invited her for a stroll."

"Yes, it seems it is your fault, isn't it?" snapped the Countess.

"Apologies, Countess Lamb. I'm deeply sorry."

"You are indeed." She turned her attention back to her daughter. "Return to your handlers, girl. Now."

"Of course, mother." She faced Will and curtsied, giving him a smile. It did well to warm his heart against the ice of her mother. But then she was off, leaving Will alone with the matriarch, and a wave of anxiety washed over him.

"So then..." said Will, looking back to the morning fete. He very much wanted to be with Hugh and Nicholas again. "Shall we--"

"Walk with me," said Countess Lamb. "We shall finish the walk you started with my daughter, and talk."

"Of course," said Will, turning to face the path they were taking. Countess Lamb cleared her throat loudly. Will turned back. "Yes?"

"Your manners continue to be just as disappointing as everything else about you," she said. Will was confused, then she lifted her arm.

"Oh, yes!" He jumped into action, hooking his arms into hers, and then they were off, strolling slowly down the length of the gardens.

It was quite possibly the most uncomfortable Will had ever felt in his life. Even putting aside the Countess' icy personality, it was simply awkward on a physical level. Will had to lift his arm up to properly fit it around Countess Lamb's. The top of his head didn't even come up to her shoulders. The side of her hips bumped into his midsection.

Of course, there were the breasts.

He could

feel

the heat coming off them. They were mere inches away from his head. If he turned toward them, there was a chance his nose would hit them. He didn't dare try. He just saw them in his side-vision. Each step she took, her breasts softly wobbled within their confines. Her cleavage shook, her dress strained.

"It's quite the lovely day today, isn't--"

"Shut up at once, boy," said Countess Lamb. "I'm going to be forward and truthful with you, and will waste neither time nor words."

"Oh...okay..."

"I am begrudgingly here. I only agreed to this potential match because poor Edith is proving just as difficult to marry off as you are. She has three older sisters who are far more desirable. And understand this. The ultimate decider of this union will be

me

. Your marriage to my daughter only goes forward if I give my blessing. One word from me, and we're off back to Cliteroe. So you may be tripping over yourself trying to please dear Edith, but it is

me

who you should be fretting over, is that understood, boy?"

"Of course, my lady."

"You will be an exceptional husband to my daughter, and I will make sure of that

before

you get married. This will not be easy. I'm already ready to pack up and leave. Nussex is a tiny kingdom to begin with. It holds little power in the realm. Certainly, seeing my daughter off to King Hardwood's first or second son might have been worth it. But you are his sixth son. And an unimpressive one from what I can tell."

Will flushed red.

"So I barely want to be here to begin with," continued Countess Lamb. "I don't like you, and I don't

want

to like you. In addition to that, I know your father well. I know how difficult and insufferable he is. I know how disappointed he is in you, and how badly he needs this marriage to work. So that means

you

need it to work. And note my next words, for they are important."

They stopped walking, and unlocked arms, then turned to face each other. Will forced himself to look into her eyes. In his side-vision, just below, were her breasts, massive and distracting.

But he didn't dare look at them. Looking at them felt like it would mean his life, as if he looked into the face of gorgons of legend and would be turned to stone.