The Royal Treatment

Princess Arabella Windsor-Smythe was drenched.

Her once pristine designer clothes lay discarded in a sodden heap in the corner of the booth, her silk blouse clinging to the wall where she’d thrown it in frustration. Sweat trickled down her back, mingling with other, stickier fluids. Her bare feet stuck to the linoleum with every shift of her weight.

She had lost count of the cocks she’d handled. Twenty? Thirty? The clinic’s sterile white walls blurred into a haze of throbbing flesh, the rhythmic sound of skin on skin, the occasional grunt from the other side of the partition.

And then there was this one.

The man in her grip God, was he even human? refused to finish. Her delicate fingers ached, her wrist screamed in protest, but the stubborn bastard just kept going, his cock hot and unyielding in her palm.

"For fuck’s sake," she muttered under her breath, her posh accent cracking under exhaustion.

Then finally he bucked. Arabella barely had time to react before hot ropes of cum splashed across her lips, her tongue, the back of her throat. She gagged, swallowing reflexively, the salty tang flooding her senses.

Trial and error had taught her one thing: the collection cups were useless.

Catching every drop was impossible. But this way? This way, nothing was wasted.

Even if it meant the occasional overflow.

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, glancing down at the mess streaked across her breasts.

A bell chimed. Break time.

The door creaked open, and Nicole’s face appeared only to freeze in stunned amusement at the sight of the dishevelled royal naked and covered by countless fluids.

"Christ, you’ve been busy," Nicole snorted, barely suppressing a laugh.

Arabella straightened, chin lifting in a feeble attempt at dignity until her foot slipped on a suspiciously slick patch of floor. She pitched forward with a yelp, only to be caught by Nicole’s firm grip.

"Easy, love," Nicole said, hauling her upright.

For the first time in her life, Arabella felt something dangerously close to gratitude and it terrified her. Tears pricked at her eyes, but she blinked them away furiously.

"How do you do this?" she whispered, staring down at her own naked, trembling body, glazed with sweat and other men’s release.

Nicole shrugged, handing her a crumpled nurse’s uniform. "We just do. Most of these blokes don’t want to be here either. But it’s this or extinction."

Arabella pulled the cheap fabric over her damp skin, the material clinging uncomfortably. "Do you have spare underwear?"

Nicole smirked. "Sorry, love. Don’t usually get strangers’ jizz on mine."

The two women walked into the break room.

The nurses’ chatter was a dull hum in the background weekend plans, TV shows, anything but the work. No one looked at her. No one whispered.

For the first time, Arabella relaxed.

She leaned toward Nicole. "Why aren’t they… like me?"

Nicole patted her shoulder. "We’ve had time to adjust. And when accidents happen?" She grinned. "We help each other clean up."

Arabella stared at the floor. "I’ve been a bit of a cunt, haven’t I?"

Nicole burst out laughing. "Aye. But you’re our cunt now."

The bell sounded indicating the end of the break, Nicole walked the princess back to her booth, "Right now remember take your time, have the cup ready and you will know when to use it, the secret is its all about timing"

The door closed and the princess was alone again, her used expensive designer clothes were still in the corner of the room, the floor was sticky from the failed attempts to capture the semen and without though the princess picked up her old clothing and used it to remove the discharge from the floor.

The lube dispenser was a revelation slick fingers gliding effortlessly, coaxing faster results. The cups? She timed it perfectly now, catching every spurt with clinical precision.

And the uniform?

Fuck the uniform.

The skirt rode up. The top gaped. Her breasts fell out repeatedly and swayed with every stroke, and when she caught glimpses of phones recording her through the partition, she didn’t care.

In fact—

She liked it.

Hours past and the princess was aware that her time was nearly finished, the time between cocks was expanding to several minuets and after a minuet or so of inactivity she decided to take a drink from the bottle Nicole had provided, she looked around and saw that the bottle had rolled under her seat.

Reaching for her water bottle, she bent over, ass in the air just as the hole slid open.

A monster of a cock thrust between her thighs.

Arabella shrieked, scrambling upright only to find the thick, veined shaft trapped beneath her skirt, pressed snug against her bare slit.

Oh.

Oh God.

She could feel it the heat, the weight of it rubbing against her with every slight shift. Her breath hitched.

If it goes soft, I’m free.

Her hand closed around it.

Just helping it along.

But the moment she began stroking, the cock responded, thrusting back against her grip and against her clit.

A moan escaped her.

No. No, this is—

Her hips rocked instinctively.

Just the tip. Just once.

She guided it to her entrance, gasping as the head pressed inside.

Too much.

But when she tried to pull away, her body rebelled, chasing the sensation, needing it.

And then—

Thrust.

Twelve inches buried themselves inside her in one brutal stroke.

The booth shook.

Arabella screamed, back arching, nails digging into the wall as the stranger fucked her.

When he came, she held him there, trembling, until he finally slipped out leaving her dripping.

A £20 note fluttered through the hole.

"Cheers, sweet cheeks. See you next week."

The princess picked up the note with an image of her grandparent on it, and thought "That bastard just fucked me like a common prostitute"

The shift finished and Nicole opened the booth door, Princess Arabella had managed to clean herself up and was looking almost presentable in her nurses uniform.

Nicole helped her pick up and bag her sodden clothes and walked her to the door where he body guard was waiting, the press were also lurking like vultures waiting to pick the meat from her bones, The princess kept her head high and walked through the crowd,

The press swarmed, cameras flashing.

One reporter sneered. "Enjoy your charity work, Princess, do you feel like you've done your bit?"

Princess Arabella froze and looked at the man fully aware that the world was watching and that her accidental stream on X was likely viral, with a stiff upper lip and steal in her eyes she said "The women in there working tirelessly are all that keeps our race from going extinct, you can scoff at them and call them what ever you want but they are the ones ensuring that we have children, and no I haven't done my bit but I will be back and do my best at the clinic because I am one of those cunts"

The crowd roared.

That night she sat in her small London townhouse sipping on hot coco when a video call came through from the Prime Minister, the princess answered it and saw the smug politicians face look back at her "Looks like you've turned this around, your approval rating is higher than any other Royal, the people are calling you the working princess" said the Prime Minister

The princess shrugged and said "just doing my duty"