Royal S.O.B. (A Bad Boy Romance)

by Kaitlyn Kevette

  And yet, he had done it. He had done it because he thought she was a Johnny-come-lately; a recent inexperienced parvenu who needed some handholding when it came to matters pertaining to royalty. And as her stepbrother, he felt it was his solemn duty to familiarize Princess Adelaide with the practices of the royal household. Visiting relatives was very much a part of the prevalent customs, anyway.

  What balderdash!

  If anything, one thing Kenrick could be counted on was to call a spade a spade. Or at least, that was his personality till now. Even if it was unearthing his own secret yearning, he would be the first to identify it, declare it and acknowledge it. That took courage, he knew, and he took pride in his own guts. Where was the need to hide something, and whom to hide it from?

  This recent thinking of his – of him doing this 'noble duty' towards his latter day stepsister – was so much baloney. And deep inside, he knew it.

  How long will I keep fooling myself, he wondered.

  God, this was not who he was. He had developed feelings for her – his stepsister – and now he was in denial mode. Then it dawned on him.

  She was the one who made him this way. She was the one who had changed him. She was the one, yes Princess Adelaide, who'd turned him into this hypocritical moron.

  And he hated her for it.

  Suddenly he was seized by a huge wave of disdain for the princess. This girl, virtual stranger to him and to his royal heritage, wielded so much great power on him!

  He could not fathom that. He could not figure out for the life of him how he could be so pliant, like putty in her hands. Was he such a weakling, such a worthless nincompoop, that he was reduced to being this, this ridiculous idiot certainly not worthy of being a prince, and the sole heir to the royal throne?

  The thought filled him with vengeance. Rapidly, Kenrick's mind rose to a restlessness never known before. He was quickly transforming, like a werewolf on a full moon night, into a beast he didn't know existed within himself. A monster that had to be appeased, that had to be fed when hungry… and it was hungry right now.

  He got up, breathing heavy, rolling his fingers into a violent fist. The enormous energy inside him had to be released, his mind focused on something. He walked around the room like a vagrant soul, his brain in complete mayhem.

  That was when, like history recycling itself, the two women appeared below the window again – the two menial workers he had encountered once in the past.

  Without a moment's hesitation, and without thinking, he ran out of the room, down the stairs, through the corridor, out the large wooden door, out in the open, and bang inside the room – all in a matter of seconds.

  Once inside, he closed the door in a flash, its bolt hitting home with a thud that reverberated in the entire manor. Right then and there, without a word, he caught hold of both the petrified women. He held one in each hand – he seemed to have the strength of an ogre – and ordered them to strip.

  The women, shaking in fear, started to remove their clothes.

  "Quick you bitches," he barked.

  "I don't have all day!"

  They hurried up, until both women were down to their bra and panties. In one fell swoop, he tore the bras baring their breasts. Without pausing to admire the heaving bosoms, he stripped them of their panties. Now they just stood there, their hands cupping their shame in front, and now reaching on top to cover their chest in addition, and failing at both.

  The same lunch table, minus the lunchboxes this time, was waiting breathlessly for his exploits.

  He took both the women, turned the shorter one around (the one he let Pat take the other day, which he had not). The taller one (whom he had taken) was made to lean on the table, baring her bosom and pussy towards him.

  His cock, enormous even without an erection, now rose to the occasion. He took it in his hand, not unlike a weightlifter lifting a heavy dumbbell – or Rambo aiming his awesome machine gun – and thrust it between the tiny buttocks of the shorter woman. He held her with his large left hand, squashing her breasts the other side, which were grazing the sharp edge of the table anyway. And he was thrusting, and thrusting, and thrusting, each thrust pressing her breasts into the blade edge of the table. She was moaning.

  The other woman, meanwhile, was at the mercy of his large right hand. While pumping the first woman, his hand was creaming the tits of the other woman; the big breasts turning into easy meat within his clenched grasp. Her pink nipples grew red as they were ruthlessly tweaked between his thumb and forefinger (which was larger, stouter and harder than the penis of many a lesser man). Then at once, his forefinger traveled down and dug deeper between her legs, with scant regard for the noise she was making, the cries of pleasure she was emitting…

  This pounding of both women went on for a while. The river flew and flew, going through many curves and crevices in its journey… and it finally reached its destination.

  At once he removed his dark tool, still dripping with passion and semen, and wiped it on the thigh of the hapless woman. Both women were panting, gasping, sated beyond words; both collapsed on their knees before falling on the floor.

  He put on his trousers and shirt in a hurry, turning to go. He opened the door, stepping on their discarded clothes. Anger seethed through him like a knife.

  "Get this shit out of here!" he yelled at the top of his voice.

  "Worthless bitches!"

  He picked up the clothes in one hand and flung them at their faces. Then he turned to step out – and stopped there as if hit by a thunderbolt.

  In front of him, standing, was Princess Adelaide.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Before Cate returned home the following morning, they had yet another chat on the prince's invitation.

  "It isn't something I can wish away," said Addie.

  "I need to make a decision."

  Cate was quiet. They were seated at the breakfast table, Mrs. Bradford standing at a discreet distance.

  "Well," replied Cate, placing her spoon and fork on the plate.

  "Why don't you just go and meet him? Maybe it won't be as bad as you imagine."

  Addie was studying the royal emblem on the corner of her plate.

  "After all, he's the prince, and your stepbrother," Cate continued.

  "And he's invited you twice already. I don't know for how long you can avoid it. He must be expecting you any day now."

  "Cate." The tone that said something was up.

  "Will you accompany me?"

  "What?! Are you mad?" Cate couldn't believe it.

  "You know I can't do that."

  Addie went back to studying the royal emblem.

  "I mean, I know I'm your best friend and all, but this is strictly your family member, for heaven's sake. And he's invited just you, not the two of us, so I've no business being there."

  "Must I go?" Addie looked up, a huge pleading in her eyes.

  "What now – do you want me to say 'no'?"

  *****

  After Cate had left, Addie sat down with the calendar. She decided on a date three days later. Three days – that would give her enough time to prepare for it mentally.

  "Mrs. Bradford," she called for her governess.

  "Yes, my child."

  In moments, she was by Addie's side. Addie always wondered how she could be so nimble footed, and how she could walk making no sound.

  "Mrs. Bradford, I've decided to go and meet Prince Kenrick on Thursday."

  "Very well, my dear."

  "Will you tell me how to get to the prince's chambers?"

  "Why, I'll rather come with you."

  "You will?"

  "Why not?" replied Mrs. Bradford.

  "That's why I earn my salary, to be with you and take care of you."

  "That would be fabulous!" Addie cheered, relieved. She was glad that she would not have to go alone.

  "So by eleven in the morning, let's reach his chambers."

  "Very well. Please write and inform him about it."

>   Addie's shoulders drooped.

  "Is there a need for that?"

  "Well, that's the practice."

  "Is it the protocol? Suppose we just drop in unannounced – a kind of surprise?"

  "That's not covered by protocol," clarified Mrs. Bradford.

  "But you are the princess and you can go anywhere in the palace at any time. It's your right."

  "Whoa," Addie was smiling now.

  "Let's exercise that right, then."

  *****

  Thursday.

  At about ten o'clock, Addie had a map in front of her, sprawled out on her large desk. It was the map of the palace. She figured out where her own chambers were and traced the route to the prince's chambers.

  "Mrs. Bradford," she called for her governess, who was next to her in an instant.

  "Are these not Prince Kenrick's chambers?"

  "Yes," replied the old lady, peering through her glasses.

  "And this is how to get there, right?"

  Addie ran her index finger along long corridors and staircases.

  "Yes," answered the old woman.

  Addie looked up from the map.

  "Mrs. Bradford," she suddenly said.

  "Is there a different way to reach there?"

  "A different way?"

  The old woman was confused.

  "Yes," answered Addie.

  "From the back, or through the workers' quarters… Where, for example, you live... I'd like to see how the common folk live within the palace premises."

  "Oh, all right."

  "Is there a detour through your quarters?"

  Mrs. Bradford hesitated.

  "Yes, there is. But do you really want to do that? Would you like it – it may not be very spic and span…"

  "Mrs. Bradford," Addie spoke slowly.

  "I was in those kinds of surroundings all my life. In fact, till a few months ago."

  *****

  Sharp at half past ten, both of them set out.

  Addie wore a simple white tee shirt and blue jeans, and covered herself with an understated gray pashmina shawl. Mrs. Bradford, as usual, was in her formal suit with a folder in hand.

  "Why do you carry that folder always, Mrs. Bradford?" Addie asked her while walking.

  "It's mandatory for us, my child," answered the governess.

  "It has reports of various updates about you."

  "About me?" She was surprised.

  "Yes – topics like your health, sleep patterns, food habits and consumption levels, overall disposition, and so on."

  '"Oh." Addie found it interesting.

  "But why do you have to carry it wherever you go?"

  "Our orders are that we must have it on our person. Ready for inspection or review anytime."

  "This goes for everyone in the royal family?"

  "Yes; for kids, even toddlers."

  "And what purpose does it serve?"

  "We immediately know what to do in an emergency. When action is taken in seconds, lives can be saved."

  "Oh."

  "Your lives – the lives of all the royals – are so precious…" Mrs. Bradford petered off.

  "And the lives of commoners?" Addie could not stop herself from asking.

  "Well," responded the old lady.

  "Every life is valuable…"

  "But that of the royalty even more so."

  "Precisely."

  She paused.

  "The royal blood is special."

  "Because it's blue in color?" Addie asked, fake innocence writ large on her face.

  "Yes," said the missus, and at once realized that she was trapped.

  They walked for a few minutes in silence, ascending a staircase to take the back route to the prince's chambers.

  "My child," commented Mrs. Bradford.

  "You're too simple for these complications."

  Addie just smiled. This life was indeed complicated, she thought to herself.

  Back in her middle class neighborhood, life was lived as it happened. If an illness struck, it was taken care of with one of several home remedies, or grandmother's treatments. For this, you could go to any family nearby and your medicine would be administered. And it got cured sooner rather than later. Only when it got too bad would you think of visiting the local physician.

  They passed through the area that had the workers' quarters. Addie looked around. It looked so familiar to her; clothes hanging on lines, little kids playing, a tiny tot swinging in a tire hanging from a tree, women going in and out of their homes, some women talking to their neighbors across the fence. Something inside made her happy. These were the sights and sounds she had been missing. This was life!

  Then she noticed something. The moment they approached, everyone fell silent. They all curtseyed at her – to which she nodded in acknowledgment and smiled back – and promptly ran inside their homes. The kids, too, stopped playing when they saw her and fell into their automatic curtsey routine.

  Was this true respect or mere programming, Adelaide wondered.

  There was another reason, figured out Addie. She was just like them, a commoner barely a few months ago. So envy had to be the first emotion; then came revulsion; and then, the doctored respect.

  Mrs. Bradford noticed the change of color on Addie's face.

  "It's because they've never seen a royal personage in these parts," she offered.

  "Oh, okay," replied Addie.

  "I get it."

  They walked in silence again.

  "But these royals," Addie started, then corrected herself.

  "I mean, the royal family – they have nothing to do with the servants?"

  Even as she asked the question, it sounded so naïve to Addie. And she already knew the answer.

  "Well, no," answered her governess.

  "But not to blame them too much. This is how it's been happening for generations and centuries… In fact, from the beginning of royalty itself, back from the time of the Magna Carta. And these things have a way of seeping inside your veins, my child, and no one can ever change habits – on either side."

  "That means," mused Addie, trying to lighten the moment.

  "Only a blood transfusion can change things around here."

  Mrs. Bradford was silent.

  "Where's your quarters, Miss?" Addie asked after a pause.

  "It's in this lane, right at the end," replied the old woman, pointing to an alley they'd just crossed.

  "Can I come visit your place one day?"

  This unexpected question from Addie stumped the old woman.

  "Such things are unheard of, my child." Mrs. Bradford kept it short.

  "Let's rather live out our lives without rocking the boat too much."

  Addie took it as a piece of advice as much as an admonition. There was a way for things here, a lay of the land, and anyone trying to bring about a change in them would only end up changing themselves.

  They turned a bend, and there were a few rooms as part of a long shed.

  "What are these, Ma'am?" Addie asked.

  "These are rest rooms for the workers. To have lunch, or to relax in between work–"

  Suddenly a door opened, and a man's rude voice hit them.

  "Get this shit out of here!"

  It was Prince Kenrick. And inside, they could see, were two naked women with their clothes thrown at them just that instant.

  "Worthless bitches!"

  The prince saw them and stood there transfixed.

  "Well, you were wrong, Mrs. Bradford," Addie found the presence of mind to whisper in the old woman's ear.

  "The royals do have a thing to do with the servants."

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Kenrick stepped inside and closed the door instantly.

  He was seized by a panic – what was Princess Adelaide doing here? And with that old hag in tow.