I should probably meet her

The king is about to dismiss his brother’s ideas, but a glance back at the papers demanding his attention send a fresh wave of tenseness through his neck muscles. He gives a second look at Duncan’s list and sighs.

“Well, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to meet Miss Nipples — or whatever her real name is. If she can help me with this pile of horse dung, that will certainly be worth something.”

Duncan is on his feet before the sentence is over. “You won’t regret it, brother-of-mine! Come with me, and I’ll introduce you.”

“No... I don’t think that’s a good idea,” replies Stewart. “You’d better send her to me. Until I figure out what I’m going to do about the whole harem thing, it’s probably best if I am not seen entering that part of the palace.”

Duncan shrugs. “As you wish. You really should get down there, though, and check it out. There’s one room, in particular, that is really intriguing. Did Father ever mention any interest in leather, whips, or anything like that?”

Stewart holds up a hand. “Stop.... Let’s not go there. I’m still trying to come to grips with the fact that he had this second side to him that we knew nothing about. I don’t care to add more disturbing images to my memories of him.”

“Disturbing, hell!” says the younger brother. “I’m telling you, the guy was a stud! There’s this black-haired gal who seems to be in charge of that room, and let me tell you.... I like being in charge in the bedroom, but if I had someone like that around, I’d willingly go around on my hands and knees, saying, ‘Hit me. Beat me. Treat me like I’m a commoner!’”

Despite himself, Stewart has to smile. Count on Duncan to distract him from the burdens of the crown. The king gestures for his brother to get on with his task before wearily sitting down and resuming his perusal of the official paperwork that awaits him.

He loses track of the time as he reviews the list of applicants for the position of Port Master of Caedanborough. Sitting the papers down, he rubs his eyes and sighs. “This is ridiculous,” he says to himself. “How can there be this many applicants for the position of Port Master in a small hamlet that doesn’t even have access to navigable water?” Giving up, he closes his eyes, lets his finger fall at random on the list, and fills in the name on the letter of appointment.

He is about to pick up the next paper when there is a knock on the door. He looks up to see a page enter and say, “Your Majesty, there is a woman here to see you. She says she was sent here by your royal brother.”

“Ah, yes... Send her in, please.”

Stewart pushes the papers aside and steps to the side of the desk as the woman enters. As the page exits the room, closing the door behind him, the woman drops to her knees, lowering her head.

Stewart steps in front of her and says, “Thank you for coming, Miss Nipp — Rather — What is your name, by the way?” He extends his hand. The young woman kisses it and rises to her feet. “I name Svetyanna. I am pleasured to be with Your Majesty.” She speaks with a thick accent and awkward grammar, clearly identifying her as not being native to Mirantia.

Stewart has had a few weeks in his role as sovereign, but he has certainly not gotten used to how intimidated many people get around him. As Crown Prince, there was a certain level of nervousness, but now that he is king, he finds many people absolutely speechless in his presence. He has been working on different techniques to put such people at ease. He motions toward a pair of chairs facing the fireplace, and says, “Won’t you sit down, Svetyanna?”

As he follows the young woman, Stewart looks her over appreciatively. It is no surprise that she caught Duncan’s attention. Her long, curly blonde hair is full and bouncy, as is her bosom. Her dress is designed to accentuate her voluptuous chest, shapely hips, and long legs. When she sits, giving her breasts an opportunity to rest, Stewart marvels at the engineering behind the dress design, which keeps the globes from bursting into full view, but exposes enough of the top of them to make it very difficult to maintain eye contact with their owner.

Stewart takes the chair across from her. “So, Svetyanna, my brother tells me you are interested in helping me out?”

It seems to take a moment or two for the words to sink in. Whether this is a language barrier or because all of her best qualities have been sunk in her beauty, with none left over for her brains, remains to be seen. Stewart can see a look of confusion in her eyes as she processes his words. Just as he is about to rephrase his question, her eyes light up with comprehension.

“Aha! Yes. Your brother say help you!”

Stewart nods politely. “This is the person Duncan thought could help me with my official paperwork?” he thinks. “What was he thinking?”

Svetyanna smiles widely, eyes bright with excitement. She pushes her dress off of each shoulder and then pulls it down off of her breasts, allowing the massive things to burst free from their confinement. Despite his voluminous exposure to the female breast, Stewart can’t help but stare in wonder and appreciation. True to Duncan’s word, Svetyanna does, indeed, have two nipples on her right breast. The areoles surrounding them just barely come together, forming a dark figure 8 on her otherwise pristine breast. Stewart is **** to agree with Duncan that they do not give the impression of being a deformity, but rather lend an air of exotic mystery to the experience.

Stewart, with Herculean effort, pulls his eyes from the impressive sight and refocuses on Svetyanna’s face. He opens his mouth to protest, but before he can get a word out, the blonde beauty says, “We fuck now?” She nods her head, smiling widely, as if thrilled to finally be talking about something she actually understands. When Stewart does not immediately answer, she says, “Or maybe you want a blow first? Svetyanna give good head!”