The growing princess

chapter 1

My name is Senator Minerva Winterbourne; I clothe myself in black, and hold a respectable position in the castle, 'neath our kindly ruler, the King.
My duties are to accept and process reports, pass on communiqués, and, as of later years, to attend to the demands of the King's only daughter and soul heir, Princess Evelyn.
The Princess had been a constant demanding presence during my two years of employment; and, as I could only assume, had also been a terribly brash child in years-gone-by. However, as she grew, developing into a young lady, her childishness did not diminish, as many would expect, but, on the contrary, became invariably more severe--with a good portion of the corresponding duties falling upon me. All of this annoyed and tired me, I must confess; for, while privileged, I myself had grown in a household that emphasised proper etiquette and delicacy of manner--in both of which Princess Evelyn was dismally lacking.
She was a fair child, pale of complexion, with eyes of remarkable splendour. Should she be seen and not heard, there could be no doubt that she would be perfectly agreeable; but, as soon as the Princess made an utterance, there could be no doubt that she was anything but. She wore clothes of the dearest cloth, amused herself with trinkets painstakingly crafted by the King's toy makers and carpenters, and dined on the finest cuisine, meticulously created by her own personal chef. I had not been at the castle upwards of a fortnight, 'fore I observed that it was this latter, more than anything else, that the young princess seemed most to enjoy. She had plainly been raised with an abundance of food, for she would easily consume more at meal times than I, a grown lady of one and twenty, possibly could; and she would dine far more frequently, at that.
I thought little of it for my first two years of employment. It was not until the eve before the Princess' sixteenth birthday, that my opinion of the spoilt, demanding little girl began to alter.
Of course, Princess Evelyn's birthday was going to be a monumental event. Most everyone in the kingdom had been invited (though I doubted that this was so much a magnanimous gesture on the part of the Princess, as a bid to obtain as many gifts as possible); and the entire castle had been in a uproar for what seemed an age already. We were all trying to make sure that everything was perfectly executed on Evelyn's special day.
The Princess was washing in her own enormous bathing chamber, when I was sent to consult with her, so that I might inform her of the guest list for tomorrow morning's breakfast feast.
With my scribe board clutched 'twixt my darkly-gloved hands, I knocked upon the door, and was soon bid: "Enter!" from within.
Warm mist swirled around the hem of my floor-length Gothic gown as I stepped into the bathing room. I spied the Princess reclining in her enormous bath, her skin pink and sweaty from the heat, her blonde hair pinned back to keep it from the water. On the floor beside her stood a snack platter, with the remains of what would evidently have been more than a snack to the average kingdom citizen. Spoilt girl, I thought with scorn.
The Princess herself was clad only in a scanty little white nightie, evidently serving this eve as a bathing costume. I approached, being mindful not to lose my footing on the damp floor.
Repressing a yawn, the Princess spoke: "Oh how grand. I knew it would be but you, Senator. I should not have permitted Father admission while I am so indecent!" She giggled.
I granted her an indulgent smile, wanting to make my business with her as brief as possible. What I had not counted on, was that I should be so very taken aback upon beholding her properly. Never before had I seen her so scantily-clad; it was, after all, the maids' jobs to see to dressing her.
I had always thought of the Princess as a child, but, indeed, her form was far from immature. The sodden, immodest gown clung to soft curves; normally, mine eyes would never be thus drawn to a woman, but her voluptuous form did not permit me to look away. Her breasts were modest, and of little interest to me at that moment; her thighs were think and hefty-looking, and, most pleasingly of all, her belly was really quite prominent, rounding out into a nice little pot that tickled the tops of her thighs. Absent-mindedly, it seemed, she rubbed her soft tummy and glanced in disdain at her empty platter.
"Senator, you know I simply cannot concentrate when I am hungry," she said angrily, looking at me as though her condition were my fault. "I see no need to send for a maid when you are here. Fetch me another platter from the kitchen! I am too hungry to wait until supper!"
"...Yes Milady," I stammered, my mouth horribly dry; the scribe board slipped from my hands and clattered to the floor. I retrieved it at once, completely out of sorts. The Princess regarded me very sternly, but mercifully did not speak.
Once out of the room, I accosted a passing maid, and instructed her to see to the Princess' demands. I also burdened her with the clipboard.

That night, I could not rid my mind of thoughts of the Princess. It was little wonder she should be growing corpulent, considering the way in which she ate everyday. It was with the help of corsets, no doubt, that she had thus far kept her expanding form hidden from us. I searched my memory, and summoned recent images of her indulging herself at mealtimes, consuming almost as much as the King himself.
It did not surprise me that I should be thinking in such a way; I know my own mind, though never would I have thought that I should apply my deviant desires to Princess Evelyn, but my thoughts were dangerously potent. Try as I might to assure myself that she was but a spoilt child, I somehow justified my thoughts, as they were not, per se, indecent. I did not wish it, but, within a matter of minutes, sweat had formed upon my brow, and through bared teeth I did repeatedly snarl into my pillow: "Spoilt girl."
7 chapters, created 6 years , updated 6 years
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DemoniaFFA 6 years
Thank you!! smiley
Knightorder 6 years
This is wonderfully written.