Kidnapped       
			    An Unlikely Story


Don't ask me how I got there - I don't know. She was on some 
kind of a visit to the area, and being a staunch Royalist, not to 
mention having expended a great deal of rich, masturbatory semen 
as a result of postcards and books bearing her famous blonde visage, 
I turned out to see her. 

She was on her own.

I say that, but of course she was surroundedby bodyguards and 
Special Branch officers and the usual entourageof flunkeys to spirit 
away the bouquets presented by camera-shy five year olds. But he 
wasn't with her - occupied instead with watercolours of a Hebridean 
scene -and the kids were quite reasonably at their school, where any 
ordinary children should be on such a day.

I was delighted to be so close to the barrier as she came past on 
her walkabout, and drank her in with my eyes. She was taller than I 
imagined - the official photographs always tried to make him tower 
over her, but she had an elegant and erotic stature even something 
of a wiggle as she walked.

I had not expected to get so much as a shake of her hand, but 
when that did come, I seemed to imagine that perhaps she lingereda 
little longer with my hand than with the others', and certainlyshe 
muttered something to the orderly next to her before her gaze and 
perpetual but convincing smile moved on. 

It was as I was wandering home, smiling to myself and slowly 
gathering the thoughts and sperm for a celebratory wank, when they 
jumped me. I was beginning to picture the slim thighs, poised and 
open above a white porcelain bowl, Royal Appointment knickers 
hooked around her ankles, gusset glistening stickily, just beginning to 
imagine the creamy lips slipping apart as the first gorgeous jet of the 
Royal piss sprayed forth, when...

Three men in suits and shades, so anonymous I could never 
again identify them hussled me aside, muttering. Before I could even 
speak I felt something cold in my arm and the world darkened and 
disappeared. 

When it re-materialised it was in a disguise I did not recognise. 
A huge Regency room in some kind of stately home or palace. 
There was no one in the room but me, and I lay on a chaise longue 
in the centre, fully clothed, and at liberty to walk about. I shook my 
head and found I could stand quite comfortably. I was discovering 
that against the odds, I felt perfect, when the door opened and I 
found myself in her presence.

"Sit," she said, as her perfect legs carried her effortlessly to the 
sofa opposite mine. "I'll come straight to the point. For the next 
three hours you are going to do exactly as I tell you. Afterwards, 
you'll be returned to where you were. You won't tell anyone, 
because let's face it, who'd believe you? Any questions?"

I could only gibber. 

"Then we'll begin," she said, and suddenly her skirt was 
yawning open. The long black stockings reached almost to the top of 
her thighs, and the clips of expensive suspenders held them tautly in 
place. "Come closer," she said. 

I left my seat and nervously approached the Royal thighs. She 
drew the pleated blue skirt back and revealed clearly what I had only 
glimpsed - the plump gusset of a silk g-string. Fine blonde hairs were 
escaping round the edge, and a spot of moisture punctured its 
centre. "Closer still - I want you so close, you're almost touching it." 
The powerful aroma of a pungent blonde pussy flooded my nose as 
I moved so close that only the thin fabric stood between me and it. 
Slowly, very slowly, she brought her fingers to the edge of the 
silk garment, and majestically drew it aside, leaving me gazing on the 
genitals of the Princess of Wales. 

And what genitals they were. A thick rumpled knob of a 
clitoris, sitting atop a clam-like furrow of beefy labial meat. They 
were red and angry looking, and slick with creamy juices. The 
Princess had managed a desperate wank before she had joined me. 
"You're not to put your tongue in!" she said, imperiously. "Not 
until I tell you. Open her up!"

Touching flesh many men would happily die to touch, I placed 
my thumbs on either side of her pussy, just where her buttocks 
began to flare out from her thighs, and spread the Princess's cunt-
lips.

They slipped apart glutinously, strings of white cream adhering 
to the inside of each lip. From the neat orifice of her vagina a large 
globule of froth was beginning to form.

"What do you think of her?" she asked. 

"She is flawless, Your Highness," I breathed, the heat and 
moisture bathing me in their proximity. 

"You don't think she's unladylike?"

"The opposite."

She surveyed me sympathetically as I panted to get my tongue 
into her vagina, and to scoop out her regal flavour. "All right. You 
can kiss me there. If you dare."

"Why shouldn't I dare?" I asked, already feeling the salty 
flavour of her juices on my tongue. 

She smiled enigmatically, a smile that rolled into ecstasy as my 
tongue penetrated her oily vagina, squeezing the tight ring open with 
a long thrust. She gasped, and grasped the back of my head, pulling 
my face into the delicious mush of her pullulating pussy, wriggling 
her open lips onto my face.

"Oh yes!" she cried. "Fuck me with your tongue!"

Her clitoris presented itself to me, proud and long, and I 
quickly sucked it into my mouth and chewed it avidly like a baby at 
a nipple. She went berserk, pushing forward so that I was pushed 
backward onto the carpet before her, and she was now sitting up 
above me, almost squatting over me, her slim stockinged thighs wide 
apart as she poked her clit in my face. 

"Suck on it! Suck on it you bastard!" she moaned, her bottom 
now off the sofa, as she stooped over my busy face. Her fingers 
reached through her pubes and she held her lips apart, wanking her 
clit as I licked. "Oh God!" she grunted "Oh God, I'm going to .... 
uh!" 

As her lovely face twisted in the painful pleasure of orgasm her 
vagina began twitching in and out involuntarily, so that I could feel 
the ring of muscle clenching round my tongue. And then the most 
outrageous thing happened. As she sighed deeply as the rush of her 
orgasm hit her, there burst from beneath her clitoris a majestic 
torrent of golden piss. I was startled but delighted as this most 
extreme of fantasies came true. She lifted her cunt from my face 
and swirled the hot stream all over me, over my face and neck, and 
into my open mouth. 

At last the flow stopped, and I was able to look up and see the 
Princess standing, stockinged legs astride me, stroking her still 
twitching open pussy, as the last few drips fell.

"Did you enjoy that?" she asked, patronisingly.

I remained speechless.

"Well I did," she pouted. "I love pissing on the lower orders.
It keeps them in their place. If they're very arrogant, I shit 
onthem. Shall I shit on you? I could you know - " She turned 
around and bared her magnificent bottom to me, a with a palm on 
each buttock, spread the cheeks apart. To my astonishment and 
slight misapprehension, she began twitching the brown ring of her 
arsehole in and out, as if indeed she might let out some great 
sausage-like turd from her feminine behind. But she straightened. 
"No, I'm only joking," she said. "Shall I suck your cock?"

This was such a ridiculous question I didn't even think of
answering. I just stood up and watched dumbfounded as she 
pulled my cock from my trousers, and squatting before me like a 
porn starlet, took the whole thing deep into her throat. Her nose was 
pressed into my pubes, my sperm-laden bollocks resting against her 
noble chin. She went three times along it, up and down, into her 
gullet to the hilt, and right back so that the tip was resting between 
her lower lip and tongue. Watching the Royal saliva trailing along the 
length of my shaft for the third time as very nearly too much, and, 
ignorant of the etiquette of coming in the mouth of the future Queen 
of England without her permission, I pulled away.

"What's the matter?" she complained like a spoilt child. "You're 
not nearly there already, are you? This always bloody happens. One 
of these days I'm going to have to go out in disguise and walk the 
streets. Soon as anyone realises they're fucking the Princess of 
Wales, they shoot their wad."

I looked apologetic.

"Okay, I'll tell you what we'll do. I'm going to lean across this 
sofa and give myself a good old diddle. You sit there and watch. If 
you feel like a lick, help yourself, but you're not to come. When I 
get close to coming, I want you to stick that cock of yours right up 

my arsehole."

"Highness?"

"Yes, that's right. I want you to give me one up the shitter. 

Okay?"

I nodded dumbly, and sat on the carpet, watching as she knelt 
across the sofa and pushed up her bottom. The extravagant 
sandwich of her pussy-lips pouted slickly, beef spread liberally with 
mayonnaise. I watched as her superbly manicured fingers, snaked 
back between her thighs, and stroked the moist, fleshy bundle a few 
times before concentrating her slim middle finger on knob of her 
clitoris, working it round in quick little circles. As she did so, the lips 
gently separated, revealing once more, the juicy, fruit-like opening of 
her vagina. The hole was periodically clenching in and out, getting 
slightly faster as she worked.

Unable to resist, I leaned forward and quickly thrust my tongue 
deep between her labia, sticking it as far into her vagina as I could, 
and then fucking it in and out. I swore I could feel the little 
contractions of her ring on my tongue, but before I could be sure, 
she moaned:

"Oh, yes, I'm nearly there, nearly there! Bugger me, you stud! 
Bugger me!"

Not pausing to question whether I deserved the epithet "stud" 
given my earlier staying power, I quickly stood up and gently applied 
the slick helmet of my solid cock to the yielding brown opening of 
the Princess's shit-tube. It was incredibly tight, but slowly I pierced 
her with the full knob of my cock. 

"More, more! Stick it all up me! I can take it!"

With this reassurance, I leaned into her, and watched the whole 
length of my cock being swallowed by her magnificent bottom. She 
squealed in what I assume was a mixture of pain and ecstasy, and I 
was fully inside, my cock fully encased by the hot, contracting 
muscles of the Royal rectum. I dared not move. I was on the very 
edge of coming, and an awareness that my bollocks were resting on 
the open lips of her wet vagina, their hairs being moistened and 
matted by her cream, stroked occasionally by her feverish fingers as 
they worked her clit, did not help.

"Okay," she said, raunchily, over her shoulders, "I'm going to 
come, and I've got a nice present for you. Pump me!"
At the command, I pulled my cock from the amazing suction of 
her shit-tube, aware that my sperm was already rushing down its 
length. As the rim of my knob stroked against the tight ring of her 
arse and I began my downstroke, the first dribbles bubbled into her 
anus. It was as I thrust forward and down into her again, depositing 
the first full squirt of semen deep into her colon, that I discovered 
what her 'present' was.

As my balls came back into contact with her open, clenching 
pussy once more, they were bathed in hot liquid, rinsed in a fantastic 
fountain of golden piss discharged from her open, orgasming pussy. 
I gave her two more energetic strokes in her back passage, pumping 
a healthy load of semen onto her waiting stools, before pulling out 
quickly (causing a cry of discomfort), and masturbating my cock in 
the hot stream of her piss. The last few thick spurts of jism squirted 
up onto her buttocks, down one blonde-haired lip of her cunt, and 
finally, accurately, down the middle of her split, most of which was 
pissed away and which clung to her big clitoris, lower down. 

She paused for a moment, shuddering. Sperm was oozing and 
bubbling from her tightly clenched anus, and splattered all over her 
hindquarters and genitals. I tried to take in this scene and believe it 
properly, but I could not. 

Then she stood up, pulled down her skirt, said "Home time, get 
dressed!" When I'd done so, she pressed something to my arm and 
said. "Cheerio".

When I came round, I was at home.