Frenemy at the Gates.

"Alright, Master. How do you want to do this?"

The four of you lay flat on the crest of a grassy hill looking down into the shallow valley featuring a dirty, if modestly large town built up around the crumbling walls of a depressingly derelict stone fort.

"I'm not sure I want to do anything with this, Milly. I mean, just look at it." You say, gesturing expansively through your screen of leafy cover. "Is that really the seat of power for this entire kingdom? It's kind of a shit hole."

So much for your dreams of grandiose gleaming castles with wide moats, tall ivory towers, bright fluttering banners, milky-skinned maidens and knights in shining armor. The closest thing to knights you have spotted so far is a ragtag group of guardsmen in rusted chain-mail wearing dented helmets that looked more like inverted bedpans on their heads.

*Meep Meep*

"I agree with Meep." Jaasi whispers from your other side. "It's a real fixer-upper but it might be fun to check it out."

It should be pointed out that you left the forest behind over an hour ago and have returned to the previous scenic default of rolling grasslands dotted with sheep. Some of whom are giving you speculative looks and making you feel strangely uncomfortable... it has something to do with the taste of drying hay in the air and all that soft soft wool.

Erk, shake yourself out of it man!

Anyway... Now the four of you are flat on your bellies and checking out the dismal prospects below from beneath a sprawling hickory bush that Milly went back to uproot when Jaasi said "she needed it for this part". You are spending an inordinate amount of your Princely time hiding under random bushes and something about that doesn't seem right.

But all the theatrical cloak and dagger stuff makes Jaasi happy so...

"I'm a Prince, right? Shouldn't I be paraded in through the front gates in some grand royal display?" You suggest hopefully, getting blank stares from two of your little fellowship and a curious burping sound from the slime.

Come on Jaasi, take a hint... you aren't asking for anything specific but a noble steed to ride through the streets and some dancing girls would be nice. Maybe a small flock of colorful peacocks to dazzle the mud-stained crowds. Wait... isn't the collective noun for a group of peacocks a "Party"? Or was it an "Ostentation"?

Either way, you would very much like to be ostentatiously partied into town in proper princely style. Please and thank you.

"Where are you going to get a parade, Master?" Milly asks, looking about as if she might find the parade float you've kept hidden this whole time. "I could go gather some of the sheep if you like..."

"No! No, anything but the sheep." You groan, your thoughts flashing back to vague memories filled with bleating sounds and the slapping of naked flesh. Turning to your periwinkle partner you arch an eyebrow at her expectantly. "What do you think, Jaasi?"

Your adorable little genie taps her delicate chin in thought, looking towards the setting sun for an answer.

"I mean, Milly could carry you if you asked her really nicely..."

"I would do it in a heartbeat, Master."

"But I don't think that's the look we are going for here." She continues, speaking over the double-muscled war goddess making big doe eyes at you. "You've got a super cool royal writ, you're more handsome than any one man has the right to be and you're dashing to boot."

She reaches over and slaps your ass as if to punctuate her point. "Just be confident in yourself, my Prince and I am sure you can charm your way into that castle or anywhere else you might like."

*Meep Meep?*

"Oh, and you can carry Meep with you. Meep is very impressive." She adds, giving the rainbow slime a fond pat but you cannot miss that all-to-familiar gleam of imminent mischief in her dazzling golden eyes.

"Sooo~ no conquest and subjugation then?" Milly sighs, sounding disappointed.

"Sorry but not this time, Milly. Does anything down there look like it's worth conquering to you?" You ask her while appreciating the way her massive creamy udders practically overflow the huge armored cups of her leather battle corset. "But if any of those dirty hicks gives us trouble you have my permission to subjugate them with your axe to your heart's content."

Milly nods in agreement, pushing a lock of her long sandy hair back behind a curled horn and you take a moment to cherish your busty beautiful bonded mate. So loyal and loving and... milky?

The mighty minotress has suffered a small wardrobe malfunction and is leaking that sweet lactate down the front of her armor from a dark nipple that's playing at peek-a-boo.

"Jaasi, we need to get going. We're burning daylight and Milly needs milking." You say, crawling backwards out of cover. "Does this mean what I think it means?"

"You know it, Cutie." She smirks, wiggling that tight bikini-clad booty in your face as she backs up too.

The teasing lilac minx, your cock stirs like a sleeping dragon in your breeches as you spot that cute camel toe outlined against the ruby fabric. You are about to do something about it and shitty castles be damned, when she pops up to her feet and raises a jubilant little fist into the air.

"It's disguise time!"

It's surprisingly easy to gain entrance to the fortified home of the ruling family in the Kingdom of Tillypoo.

Yeah, Tillypoo...

You don't feel quite so bad about the name Poundtown now. Like, if people had a choice of holiday location between the two places, they were totally going to spend those tourist dollars in Poundtown over somewhere called Tillypoo. Which would be gratifying, if only Poundtown were a real place.

But the disguises are done and you've got to give Jaasi credit, she knows how to put on a show.

Your magical troublemaker is swathed head to toe in shawls and wraps of every color imaginable. Countless golden hoops and bangles crowd her slender wrists and ankles while fine golden chains lace the layers of vibrant fabric, tinkling with every step she takes. With her skin a dusky olive hue and her midnight hair spilling from under a silken scarf she looks every part the exotic fortune-teller.

Meep is wearing a hat.

It's a nice hat, a sorta raspberry red beret perched atop the bubbling blue ball of jello in your arms. That's cool.

...and Milly is just Milly.

The ineffectiveness of any kind of magic on her was never more rudely revealed then when any magicked up article of clothing Jaasi tried to lay upon the looming Minotress simply vanished at a touch of her tanned skin. So after a spot of sniffing and pouting your sexy genie conceded that Milly should just go as herself.

Armed with her filigreed bronze shield and crescent-moon bladed battle axe and armored like a certain famous warrior princess. She is a lewdly intimidating sight in her inadequate corset and short studded leather legionnaires skirt that only falls to the tops of her deliciously thick thighs.

She is all sleek powerful feminine muscle, long golden hair and gigantic bouncing tits carrying a large axe that is almost as impressive. She is big and busty and unbelievably beautiful in your eyes, but to everybody else she represents horned **** incarnate.

You wouldn't have her any other way...

So finding your way into the good graces (and audience chamber) of the royal family went a little something like this...

Jaasi (approaching the idling town guards and cackling dramatically): "Woohohohohoho! Harken my fine gentlemen, for a Prince of Prophecy doth approach to fulfill his foretold fate."

Nose-picking guard no.1: "What's that now?"

Ass-scratching guard no.2: "What are you talkin' about, old lady?"

Jaasi (rearing back in outrage before remembering herself): "Old lady?! I mean... *ahem* ...Woohohohoho! Yay verily, even now his noble footsteps draw the fabled Prince of Fates ever closer to meet with your King."

Ass-scratching guard no.2: "Did you just say a Prince? Coming 'ere? Speak plainly, you ancient hag!"

Nose-picking guard no.1: "Yeah, and where is this so-called Prince of yours anyway?"

Jaasi (trembling with so much contained fury that her gold bangles ring together like wind-chimes): "Why I oughta... Lo! I sense his regal aura approaching our unworthy selves as we speak. So prepare to prostrate yourselves before his glorious Majesty! ...you mouthy pissants."

You (stepping out from an alleyway and showboating shamelessly): "Behold! It is I, Prince Dandybuff..."

Nose-picking guard no.1 (interrupting): "Hey, 'e was just 'iding behind that there wall. What are you all playin' at?"

Ass-scratching guard no.2: "Cripes, just look at 'im though. Got any identification there, Mista Prince?"

You (pulling out royal writ): "Ummm... Yes?"

Nose-picking guard no.1: "Blimey, will you look at all that loopy lettering and its even got a fancy wax seal!"

Ass-scratching guard no.2: "Good enough for me. What did you say your name was, your 'ighness?"

Jaasi (arms crossed and tapping a foot impatiently): "He's Prince Dandybuff of Poundtown, the prophesied..."

Ass-scratching guard no.2: "That's enough outta you, Crone. Get lost and leave the nice Prince alone."

Nose-picking guard no.1 (giving you helpful directions): "The King will want to see you right away. Take a left at the end of the street and 'ead straight..."

Jaasi (losing her temper): "MILLY!!"

Milly (Stepping out of the alleyway with Meep on her shoulder): "Yes, Jaasi?"

Meep (helpfully): *Meep Meep!*

Nose-picking guard no.1 and Ass-scratching guard no.2 (together): "Bloody 'ell!"

Jaasi (watching them drop their weapons and flee): "Woohohohohoho!"

So here you all are, being shown through vaunted halls so old and venerated that they are crumbling apart by a stick-thin gray-haired footman in faded livery. Which is fine except Jaasi is treating the short trip to the throne room like an open house showing of a property up for sale.

"The bricks missing out of the ceiling aren't great but they do let in a lot of natural light."

Or...

"A couple of nice hanging tapestries around that feasting hall would really spruce the place up."

And even...

"Breakfast nook, I keep wanting to say breakfast nook but I don't know why."

On and on until you are finally led into a surprisingly spiffy throne room with long woolen carpets leading up to a modest podium where, presumably, the King sits in an uncomfortable looking oaken throne.

You step smartly ahead of Jaasi in her fortune-teller outfit and Milly, who the guards are eyeing nervously with Meep tucked under your arm like a wobbly blue helmet to bow politely.

"Your royal Majesty, King Timur Copronymus the third. May I announce Prince Dandybuff of Poundtown." The old footman bellows, making you wince.

Copronymus? You are sure you should remember a name like that from your own worlds history but can't rightly recall the details. The man sitting before you doesn't resemble a Timur or a Copronymus in your opinion but looks more like an old pig farmer in a bad fancy dress costume.

His head is balding, his wrinkly face is red and jowly, and he has more fatty rolls around his pudgy neck than a bakery. His courtly robes are faded and threadbare in places, the gold embroidery fraying badly, and his heavy gold chains and the rings on his fingers show suspicious hints of a green patina on them.

He squints at you, his beady piggy eyes roaming over your own, much finer clothing and then back at the company you keep before speaking in a voice akin to a croaking toad.

"Princess Dandybuff is it? I don't think I've ever heard of Poundtown before..." He rasps and a servant brings him a brass goblet to guzzle from before wiping his flabby lips on a wine stained sleeve. "But you are a handsome one, even if you do keep strange company."

Guzzle, Guzzle... wipe.

"I suppose you must be here to seek the hand of my precious Princess Charlotte. The apple of my eye and sole heiress to my throne." Foul King Timur says, shifting in the aforementioned chair and holding the dripping goblet out for more wine. "No other princes have answered my summons, can you believe that?"

Most certainly, your Majesty. Your kingdom is a sheep-infested bog-hole and, so far, you aren't turning out much better.

"No, your Majesty. I am sure your daughter is more lovely than a summer's day." You reply, magical Princely charm coming to the rescue.

"That she is... that she is, my boy" King Piggy-face generously condescends, splashing some sour smelling wine in your direction. "But all the other eligible suitors seem to have run off chasing after other royal skirts like that pink-haired big-titted slut Genevieve or that pretty little blonde waif Matilda..."

You can't imagine why, not when they could all be sharing the esteemed pleasure of being spoken down to by this steaming heap of talking turds.

Oh, wait... you just remembered what Copronymus means and your glassy smile grows positively radiant looking back at the horrible figure getting shit-faced above you.

Guzzle, Guzzle... wipe.

"I suppose I should at least let the two of you meet." King Timur the Turd concedes, waving a servant away and leaning forward to lock you in his beady stare. "But if you think I'm just going to stand aside and let you add my little princess to your... menagerie. Think again."

You hear the soft sharp intake of breaths from Jaasi and Milly, even Meep who has been commendably quiet up until now lets out a nervous little *meep*.

Did this fat fuck just say what you think he said? You're just about ready to let Milly off the leash to "subjugate" King Turd into a bloody puddle on his own throne when a fleshy round butterball dressed all in fluttering cotton-candy lace flies across the room.

"Daaaaddy~!"

The girlish squeal surprises you. For a moment you think Timur the Fat and Odious must have a pink slime of his own but it turns out the unfortunately proportioned young lady trying to roll herself up into her father's lap is his daughter; Princess Charlotte.

The fat little piglet has the dubious distinction of taking after her ignoble sire. Sweaty apple cheeks and squinty eyes makes her look like his smaller carbon copy stuck in a poofy pink dress that consists entirely of ruffles and a curly blonde wig with matching bows in it.

"Oh, oh Daddy... He's perfect! So big and pretty, is he for me? Can I keep him, can I?"

Her shrill young voice is like nails on a chalkboard as she practically vibrates in his lap with excitement.

"We shall see, Princess. We shall see..." Her father croons, stroking her hair with his greasy sausage fingers.

"But I WANT him, Daddy! You said you would find me a Prince and I want HIIIM~!"

You glance surreptitiously back at Jaasi and even through the silk scarf hiding her face you can sense her grimace of disgust.

Well, this Kingdom is a total wash. It is time to say thanks but no thanks and let Milly crush a few worthless skulls on the way out. That should cheer your beautiful Minotress up some...

"Princess Charlotte, please try to remember your manners." A female voice as warm and smooth as hot chocolate says as its owner glides gracefully out of the wings. "A Princess must always stand on etiquette, just as I have taught you."

A tall, pale and devastatingly gorgeous woman sashays her way across the faded carpets. She looks like sinfully forbidden fruit--past ripe for the plucking--oozing sexuality in a clingy nearly see-through black dress that conforms like a second skin to her thick heavy tits as her full heart-shaped MILF ass sways beneath the sheer dark fabric.

You drink in her mature charms, feasting your eyes on the radiant cascade of coppery curls that pours down the smooth lines of her slender back as she positions herself alongside the throne. Just out of arm's reach of the King's greedy hands, you note.

"I apologize, your Majesty." She says humbly and performs a low sweeping bow that lets the Swine King leer straight down her deep plunging neckline and, for once, you cannot fault him. "I shall endeavour to instruct her better."

Then turning her gleaming emerald eyes to you, she smiles devilishly and you can hear Jaasi start to hyperventilate behind you.

"And who might you be, handsome traveler?"