Ask someone for help

“Look, why don’t we just ask for help?” says Stewart. “Surely they would understand that our ways are different than theirs and that we might need some assistance?”

“That’s probably a good idea,” admits Adella. “Plus, it shows your commitment to transparency.”

He looks again at the silk loincloth in his hand. “At least this isn’t transparent. It’s revealing enough as it is!”

“Oh, don’t be so bashful, Brother! At last you will be able to show off the dimples in your knees. And if you get to dancing hard enough, perhaps you’ll also show off the birthmark I’ve heard so much about!”

Stewart’s hand went involuntarily to his right butt cheek. “What do you know of that?” he asks, surprised.

Adella laughs. “Who haven’t I heard it from? Are there any of my ladies-in-waiting who haven’t seen it firsthand?”

Stewart notes that Adella seems strangely relaxed and carefree, apparently handling all this strangeness more easily than he is. “What’s gotten into you, sister dear?”

She laughs. “I don’t know.... It’s just so exhilarating to actually be useful and valued for something! I just want to jump in and experience this adventure to its fullest!”

“Well, don’t go native on me,” he warns. “There is much we do not understand about these people, and the last thing I need is to return to the palace and face Lord Mayweather and tell him our mission failed. I would never hear the end of it.”

He walks to the door and stops before opening it. “Care to tell me how to ask for help about the clothes?”

Adella thinks. “Hmmm.... Probably it would be best if they could send a page or other attendant. Those men we saw in the hallway didn’t strike me as being experts on ladies’ fashion.”

“So how do I say that?” asks Stewart. “Whenever I try to think in their terms, I fear that I’m going to sound like Duncan when he has a couple of drinks in him.”

Adella giggles. “Actually, when my friends and I would read Nymphite literature when we were girls, the subject of Duncan came up quite frequently. We would take his latest pick-up line and try to decipher what it would mean to a Nymphite. One thing that he said to Courtney actually would have translated in Nymphite to, ‘I’m horny enough to screw you, your sisters, and all of their porcupines.’ Strangely, it means exactly the same thing in our language!”

Stewart rolls his eyes. “So what am I supposed to ask? Translate this for me: ‘The princess and I request the assistance of a female attendant. We have a question — possibly two or three — to help us avoid making a mistake at the dinner. We will be most appreciative of her help.’”

Adella thinks for a moment and then gives Stewart the words. He blinks, and says, “Are you sure? That hardly seems like an appropriate thing for the sovereign liege of Mirantia to say on a diplomatic mission.”

“Trust me, Brother,” says Adella. “Would I fail to spread my thighs for you when you seek to penetrate my maidenhood with your pistoning rod?”

She laughs loudly at his startled expression. “Don’t panic! I’m just practicing my Nymphite. I said, ‘Do you think I would withhold that which you seek with such insistent repetition?’” She laughs again.

“Oh, I’m just convulsed by your humor, sister dear,” says Stewart. “We need to finish this mission quickly. I’m going to slip up when we get back home, and start using Nymphite terms, and before you know it, I’ll be inviting Norbier to give me a prostate exam with his tongue!”

He opens the door and steps into the hallway before Adella can respond. The rabbit-eared individual he had seen earlier comes to him and says, “Your Majesty! How may I pleasure you? My penis is at your disposal.”

Stewart really hopes that was merely an offer to give assistance. He clears his throat and recites the words Adella gave him.

“The princess and I wish a ménage à trois with a fertile and talented maiden. We have multiple needs and wish to expose her to double or triple penetration. We do not wish to prematurely ejaculate at the orgy, so if she could satisfy our horniness, we will find it most orgasmic.”

Stewart braced himself. The last time he used such words in public, his mother spanked him and washed his mouth out with soap. Instead, the rabbit-eared man smiled, bowed, and replied, “I know just the maiden for your needs. She is quite slutty and will make you cum quickly and repeatedly with her mouth and hands!”

Stewart returns to his room as the other fellow walks/hops away. Adella looks up inquisitively. “Did it work?”

“Either he’s going to get someone to help us, or I’ve just put in an order for a callgirl. And by the way, how can a maiden be slutty?”

He repeats the conversation, and Adella explains that “slutty” means “experienced,” rather than morally bankrupt. “He’s finding a young lady who is experienced in such things and will be able to answer our questions and assist us with dressing, if needed.”

Stewart picks up the loincloth again. “I don’t think this will take a lot of assistance. I have socks that offer more covering than this.”

“Well, you may wish to slide one of your socks over your ‘royal scepter,’ Stewart, before you do any dancing,” says Adella with a giggle.

Their conversation is interrupted by a knock on the door.

“That must be our little slut,” says Stewart, drily. “I probably should step out while she helps you dress.”

“You might as well stay and ask any questions you might have,” she replies. “I’m sure you can refrain from peeking while I dress. Besides, I am your sister after all.”

Stewart takes a deep breath as he considers what to do.