Margaret is put in her place

The artist couldn't believe his luck! He had unfettered access to the bare body of the Queen's beautiful younger sister, able to contort her into many demeaning postures, all in the name of art.

While she tried to maintain a calm and aloof exterior, he could tell that her royal highness was mortified. The red hue never quite left her cheeks, and she took every available opportunity to cover her breasts.

Her bare toes kept curling up...or perhaps that had more to do with Margaret's need to use the toilet. They hadn't taken a break, and judging by the expression the naked girl was trying and failing to keep off her face, her desperation was growing.

The occasional loud rumblings of her stomach only served to further emphasise her helplessness.

"Are you OK, ma'am?" the artist asked, the princess jumping as he snapped a photograph on his camera to use as further reference.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine," Margaret croaked dismissively, although her facial expression betrayed that she was anything but fine with having her bare breasts immortalised on film.

"If you say so. If you could sit up for this next one, ma'am...spread your legs a bit...that's it...lean back and rest on your hands...let's get your chest front and centre..."

xxx

Elizabeth strode through the halls of Buckingham Palace.

It had been many hours since she had dismissed her sister, and she was intrigued to know how Margaret was getting on as a life model.

The door to the studio was pushed open, and Elizabeth shivered at the sudden drop in temperature. Perfect, she thought. If she was cold in all of her layers, it must be unbearable for someone stark naked.

Margaret was leaning against the wall, one leg propped up at a 45-degree angle, and a fake smile hitched onto her face. Elizabeth smirked as she saw her sister unable to stay still, shuffling uncomfortably and twitching, and looking visibly cold.

"Let's see some of your work, then," Elizabeth addressed the artist, totally ignoring her naked sister. The monarch was delighted to see that Margaret had been **** into adopting all sorts of humiliating poses, most of which involved her private parts being exposed.

"I also took some photographs, ma'am," the artist explained, "Which I intend to draw up at a later date."

"Very good," Elizabeth smiled. "The more portraits the better. It gives us a wider selection to issue to the press."

"T-the press?" a tiny voice squeaked. Margaret had dropped all pretense of being comfortable with her nudity and was now hugging herself tightly, shivering uncontrollably in the cool room.

"Of course!" Elizabeth chuckled. "Why did you think you were doing this?"

Aware that everyone was ogling her, Margaret shuffled over to her sister.

"Lilibet, please..." she croaked. "I'm sorry for what I did, but please don't make me do anything more, I just want some clothes..."

Elizabeth smirked as she looked her sister up and down. Now that they were close, she could see Margo's bloated stomach; usually a sign of someone having eaten a lot of food, but in this instance, a side effect of someone who was dangerously close to losing control of their bladder. Her makeup was ruined as tears glistened on her cheeks, and her dark hair was a mess. By the sound of her voice, Elizabeth guessed that her sister's throat felt as though it was made of sand, having not drunk any water since before her boozy night out. She was silently impressed that her sister was still standing; the noises issuing from her core and the paleness of her skin suggested that she was so weak, that she could faint at any moment!

As Margaret shivered and squirmed, Elizabeth decided what to do with her next. Why had she never used her authority to humiliate and prank her sister before?