Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24103 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 96(@250wpm)___ 80(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24103 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 96(@250wpm)___ 80(@300wpm)
I know there are rumors about me. That I use women. That I tie them up for my so-called “training.” That I discard them afterwards, with no thought as to their well-being.
It’s all true.
After all, not everyone can handle a Prince of Lysenia because I’m genetically different from most men. The average guy out there has one tool … but I have two.
They’re both massive, leaking poles.
Designed to claim.
With no mercy.
And I’m looking for a curvy girl who can take it all.
Matilda:
I’ve heard about Prince Haakon’s anatomy. The rumors are so wild that they couldn’t possibly be true.
But after our prince calls for a virgin sacrifice, opportunity knocks.
He’s here …
I’m available …
… and I’m eager to receive on both ends.
In other words, I’m perfect for Haakon’s filthy desires. But how do I make him choose me?
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
1
Matilda
Huffing, I balance a jug of water in the crook of my arm. God knows why Lady Daphne needs so much water, but it’s not my place to ask. After all, I’m a lady in waiting at the Lysenian palace, and while the title sounds amazing, trust me, the job isn’t.
The worst part, I suppose, is that my position is undefined. I’m basically a Girl Friday who does all kinds of errands for a wide variety of people. I’m a secretary; a stenographer; a cook’s assistant; a typist; and even a junior maid on occasion. At this point, I’m surprised I haven’t been asked to muck out the stables.
But I shouldn’t complain because it’s a steady income, and my family needs money. We’re not poor; we’re just not rich either. We’re part of the disappearing middle class in Lysenia, and we seem to be squeezed on all sides. The cost of living is rising, and yet my parents’ paychecks have flatlined for decades. Last year, my dad was unemployed briefly and things got really scary. We didn’t tell anyone, but we were on food stamps and our electricity was shut off for a hot second.
But that experience set me straight because I’m determined to help my mom and dad. My parents deserve better, after all. They’ve saved their whole lives, but all that discipline has hardly made a difference. I know their bank balance is low, even if Maria and Gerald are too proud to admit it. I know that my mother still gets nervous around the fifteenth of the month when bills are due, and that my dad gets stressed whenever he thinks the company might lay him off again.
As a result, I applied for a job at the palace right after graduating from high school, and was hired immediately. I knew that as a lady in waiting, I’d be asked to do all sorts of things, but I had no idea that I’d be on my feet non-stop for ten-hour shifts. Still, even if my back aches and my feet are sore, I’m grateful for the opportunity because it means a steady paycheck. Now, if Lady Daphne would just stop requesting jugs of water all the time, that would be a huge improvement.
Huffing and puffing, I finally make it up the stairs to the noblewoman’s private quarters. Lady Daphne is a relative of the royal family, and as a result, she has a suite of rooms on the topmost floor of the castle. Although the royal family has modernized and updated the palace many times, there’s no elevator to the penthouse level. I think it’s to ensure their privacy. The royal family doesn’t want a huge crowd of staffers descending on them for any reason whatsoever, and this is one way to restrict the flow of traffic.
Wiping sweat from my brow, I begin walking through a series of narrow corridors to Lady Daphne’s suite. This place is such a maze, but I’m almost to my destination when suddenly a door bursts open halfway down the hall, and a young woman stumbles out. She’s comely, except for the fact that her blonde hair is a tangled mess, and she’s dressed in nothing but a sheet wrapped around her curves. I stare, mouth agape.
Then, to my surprise, some clothes and shoes are tossed into the hallway after the woman, her underwear soaring through the air before landing comically on her head. No one makes an appearance though. Instead, the door slams shut, and it’s just the two of us in the hall once more.
I set down the jug, careful not to spill the water, and slowly approach the woman.
“Are you okay?” I ask carefully. “Do you need help?”
As I get closer, I see that she’s actually quite young. I’d estimated the woman to be in her mid-20’s, but now I see that she’s probably only eighteen or so. But the girl doesn’t acknowledge me. Instead, she pulls on her dress hastily before struggling into a pair of scuffed black boots. Then she stands up and takes off running like a bat out of hell.
It's only then then that I realize she’s left her panties behind. The lace thong crumpled on the floor is violet-colored, with delicate rosettes at the waist. It definitely looks like the type of lingerie that costs an arm and a leg, so I pick it up gingerly with two fingers and call out, “Hey you forgot this!”
But the girl doesn’t turn. Instead, she ignores me and flees down the hall before making a sharp right. I’m left there looking like an idiot with a pair of women’s panties dangling from my fingers. What should I do?
I make a split-second decision. I admit, I’m not an altruistic person. I could say that I just want to make sure that she gets her panties back, but that would be a lie. I’m not really interested in used women’s lingerie; instead, I’m interested in why a comely young woman was kicked out of Prince Haakon’s quarters. After all, I know the palace inside-out from traipsing up and down the stairs 24/7, and I know the Crown Prince’s personal chambers lie behind that door. So why did he eject this blonde beauty? Did she do something wrong? Even more important, is she okay? When she ran off, it seemed like she was crying, although I can’t be sure.