The streets of Ruar, capital city of the Kingdom of Zentara, were filthy. At least, they were filthy when you left the well-travelled main streets with the fine shops catering to wealthy noblemen. The back streets, the slums where the common man lived were not so well maintained. The late afternoon sun baked the trash and refuse in the streets, creating a foul smell that lingered in the air and seemed to follow you wherever you go. With her tall, noble bearing, sleek black hair, fine skin, and a vividly colored cotton dress, Jeanette Grennally, Crown Princess of Zentara stood out like a sore thumb. Even still, sometimes Jeanette felt more at home here than she did in the castle.



The people always flocked around her when she came to visit, though Jeanette was savvy enough to realize it was the alms they were primarily interested in. Jeanette believed that they were genuinely glad to see her, though. Jeanette took a personal interest in the people who would one day be her subjects; she did not just hand out coins out of duty or obligation. She knew their names, their stories, and their situations. She was always happy to offer advice, or an opportunity, or perform some favor. She bought goods from the shopkeepers and distributed alms to the unfortunate, spreading her wealth to each according to his means.



At least once a week Jeanette made her way to the slums of Ruar to meet with the people, each time choosing a different street or neighborhood. She always made sure to send out a footman or servant afterward to follow up on whatever promise she made, when she was too busy with another area of the city to do so herself.



As she made her way back to the castle after her visit, she didn't mind that the hem of her dress was stained from the muck, or that her feet ached from the hours of walking the streets. When she approached the castle, one of the footmen came out to meet her. "Your Highness, the King and Queen would like to see you when you are ready." The footman looked down at the soiled dress with a meaningful glance. The King and Queen were sticklers for protocol, decorum, and maintaining a presentable appearance at court.



"Thank you. You may send word that I have returned and will come to them as soon as I am able." Jeanette continued into the castle as the footman bowed, and made her way to her personal chambers to change gowns.



When she was finished, Jeanette hurried down the hall towards the royal apartments in Greenthorn Castle. Pausing before the door to her parent's chambers, Jeanette straightened her raven hair, adjusting the silver circlet on her head and then raising the neckline of her silk dress to help cover her breasts. Fashions called for a lower neckline and with her large bust it was hard to keep them covered. Jeanette's parents, naturally, didn't approve so she endeavored to appear more modest when in their presence.



Satisfied that her appearance was suitable for entering the royal presence, she signaled the footman who knocked sharply on the door, then opened it and announced loudly "Her Royal Highness, the Princess Jeanette Grennally!"



Jeanette swept into her parent's receiving chamber, head aloft. Her parents sat with their chancellor, Sir Raymond Drake, who rose with her entrance. "My Lady, welcome, His Majesty has important news for you." Jeanette didn't like Drake, who often looked at her with lingering, inappropriate stares.



King Rolf Grennally looked up at his daughter with an apprehensive smile. "Please my dear, sit, we have important news for you...Sir Drake has brought us an offer of marriage for you and we have decided to accept it. You're to be married to the Duke of Braden, Gilbert Ousten, brother of King Connor of Heste."



A look of horror and disgust crossed Jeanette's face. "The Duke of Braden? He's fifty if he's a day. Not to mention fat, covered in boils, and a lecher to boot! We've heard even here that not a serving girl is safe in his castle."



"I'm sure those are just exaggerations dear, besides, he's a gentlemen, he knows the difference between a commoner and a lady. You'd be treated with the utmost respect. There are important reasons for this alliance..."



Jeanette tried another tactic, "But father, I am the heir of the kingdom, marrying me to the Ousten's will subordinate us to Heste! Surely you don't want them to take by marriage what they couldn't take by force!"



"The alliance by marriage will ensure peace, my dear. And the crown will rest on your head, not his. Our line will continue, you'll simply have a king-consort. This matter has been decided my dear, you knew that you must marry eventually. With Heste's military support and Zentara's wealth and control of the major trade centers in the region, our prominence and power will be assured for the next fifty years!"



"I know father, but-"



"Jeanette!" her mother, Queen Amarice interrupted, "You will marry the Duke of Braden, and you will do it with the grace, good nature, and poise that befits your station!"



Jeanette's shoulders slumped in defeat, realizing that no amount of wheedling would free her from her parent's intentions. "When must I marry him...?"



"Before the year is out...some final negotiations for the marriage settlement must be agreed upon, and the details of the ceremony settled. In nine months time you'll be wed."



Jeanette's back stiffened as she stood up straight again. "I see. Of course I'll submit to your wishes, for the sake of the Kingdom."



The King smiled, "I knew you would see reason my dear. Really, this is for the best. Now that you're to be married, I think it is time we start expanding on your responsibilities at court. You already do a wonderful job seeing to the needs of the common man, and distributing alms, but it is time you start moving in higher circles. I would like you to begin overseeing the reception of distinguished guests and petitioners in the Castle. Welcome the nobles, and diplomats, and the more important merchants and ensure they are treated well. You need to have good contacts when you come into the throne."



Jeanette nodded along with her father's request. Ordinarily she would be happy at the increased responsibility, but the news of the impending marriage had dampened her mood. "Of course father, I look forward to it. Seeing to the needs of all our subjects is an important role the Queen. If you'll excuse me, Your Highness, I will go and begin preparations, both for the marriage, and for my new responsibility."



"Always so eager, my dear. Very well, we will meet tomorrow to talk more about the marriage. Have a good evening."



Queen Amarice smiled at her daughter. "It will be alright my love, all women feel this way when they face marriage. You'll come around. Do have a good night!"



Jeanette curtsied low, and left the royal apartments to think about her betrothal. With her dark hair, fair skin and shapely body, Jeanette was widely considered to be a great beauty among the nobility of the kingdom. At eighteen, she was old to still be a maid. She should have been married years ago, though the political maneuvering involved in marrying the heir to a kingdom were complicated and created delays. Even still, her sexual awakening had occurred years earlier, and she was eager to be wed and bed...just not to someone horrific, like the Duke of Braden.



Jeanette's sexual awakening began when she noticed her father in the company of a beautiful woman, and no one would tell her who she was. Finally, Sir Drake informed her that it was the king's mistress. Sir Drake took a perverse pleasure in telling her exactly what a king's mistress did, and why her father needed one.



Jeanette found the idea of the king's mistress to be exhilarating. As a young woman, she was bound by all manner of restrictive social conventions, and found the freedom of being a mistress to be intriguing. Even later, when she matured and understood the perils of being an unsupported, unprotected woman, the idea lingered, featuring heavily in her fantasies at night when her fingers explored her budding body. It was also Sir Drake who informed her of those dangers, when she convinced him to tell her more about the life of a mistress. Sir Drake told her that not all women got to become mistresses to important people. A noble's mistress needed grace, poise, refinement and education. Commoners had to become whores, working in brothels or walking the streets and docks which carried even greater dangers.



As Jeanette walked back to her room, an idea struck her. She knew how she would get back at her parents, and the Duke of Braden, for forcing her into this unpleasant marriage. A mischievous smile crossed her ruby lips as she summoned Garrett Daniels, one of her footmen.



"Daniels, I have an assignment for you. As I am to be married, it is time for me to take a more active role in the Kingdom and its inhabitants. As such, I wish to begin a charity for fallen women to help restore them to the path of righteousness. I need you to compile a list of five local houses of ill repute and their addresses so I can review which would be suitable for me to begin my efforts."



If Daniels found the assignment surprising or unusual, he hid it well and left the Princess with a deep bow, promising to return before the end of the day. Daniels was Jeanette's most trusted servant. Jeanette had met Daniels in the slums of Ruar when she was making her rounds through the city. Daniels was out of work and unable to support his wife and their four children. Daniels had tried to get money at the gaming table, but only fell deep into debt to a criminal element. They had roughed Daniels up, and were threatening to put his daughters in a brothel in order to repay the debt. He had approached Jeanette for alms, and upon hearing of his story, hired him into her service and arranged for the debt to be repaid. Daniels had been devoted to the princess ever since.



Retiring to her chamber, Jeanette dismissed her servants and reclined on her bed. Jeanette ran her fingers down the silky contours of her dress, pressing the soft fabric against her breasts and rubbing it around her nipples. The feeling of the silky material encapsulating her nipples send a shiver of pleasure through her, and the naughty thoughts racing through her mind made her slit moisten and her thighs press together.



Jeanette found the perfect rebellion against this match: she would live out one of her favorite fantasies. Of course, she couldn't become some nobleman's mistress...that was too much of a commitment, and she was too well known in the noble circles. She could, however, be a whore...at least for one night. Jeanette planned to lose her virginity to some nameless stranger in a brothel to prevent having to giving it away to someone as loathsome as the Duke of Braden.



One hand tickled down her abdomen, and began pulling up the skirt of her dress. Jeanette imagined lying in a dirty bed as a faceless man lay atop her, thrusting into her relentlessly. Her fingers pressed into her now exposed slit, tracing the curve of the moist flesh, spreading the labia apart with her fingertips. Her slender digits soon found her clit, caressing the little button. Jeanette thrust her hips into her hand as she pictured wrapping her legs around the client, fucking him back eagerly as he used her for his own pleasure.



"Oooh...mmm....yes....fuck me...mmph...aaah...." Jeanette moaned eagerly as she began to rub her clit faster and harder. Her heart quickened as the heat welled within her. Soon she was picturing herself on all fours, naked and exposed to the man with a queue out the door. As he finished and climaxed on her back, another would soon take his place with a jingle of coins landing in a cup next to her bed. Each man in her fantasy was a nameless, faceless commoner using her for his own pleasure. Jeanette cried out shrilly as her fingers slid up and down over her clit, wantonly grinding into the button.



Jeanette's hand crumpled the fabric of her dress around her breast, groping her tit as she imagined a man would maul it. Her tit spilled out of the low cut dress, allowing her to squeeze and pluck the nipple as she bucked into her other hand. As she approached her climax, she released the breast and thrust two fingers inside her, while the digits of the other hand continued to work her clit. The fingers slipped deep inside her pussy, her hymen having been torn while horseback riding years ago. She began pumping them in and out as she crossed and uncrossed the digits. Her knuckles pressed against the sensitive inner walls of her pussy as she rode her own hand.



Her fantasy shifted again, this time imagining that one of the clients taking her at the brothel was someone she knew. She imagined that one of the men she met in the city slums discovered her in the brothel. That he looked at her with shock, surprise, and arousal. In her mind she heard the clink of his coins in the cup and saw him lie atop her. In her fantasy, the man's calloused hands held both her wrists above her head, while his heavy body pressed her to the bed.



Jeanette's pleasure grew as her mind got dirtier. In her fantasy the man talks about how he always wanted her, how he always thought she was a whore. He fucks her hard, painfully slapping his body to hers. Jeanette's hand began moving faster, slapping into her labia as she fucked her fingers harder. One hand gripped the sheets of her bed, twisting them in her fist as she cavorted on the mattress, humping her hand furiously. The wet sound of the fingers sliding through her juicy folds filled the room as she pushed her hips hard and high into her fingers. The reality of the fantasy, the enchanting notion that she might actually be living it that very night pushing her over the edge, and as she imagined a commoner shooting his seed deep in her belly her climax struck, and she cried out in pleasure as her body clamped around the fingers. After tensing and freezing for several moments, each little twitch of her finger on her hypersensitive clit making her jerk and spasm, Jeanette exhaled sharply and collapsed back on the bed panting, basking in the afterglow of her orgasm and eagerly anticipating the return of the footman.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



Jeanette wrapped her cloak tightly around her to conceal her large tits as she slipped out of the castle. Wearing a servant's dress taken from castle stores, the garment was unable to properly cover her breasts and left generous portions on full display. The princess made her way into the streets of Ruar, capital of Zentara. Daniels had returned to the castle that evening with a list of six local brothels. Jeanette wanted a brothel that was close enough to the castle that she could make it at night with relative safely, but far enough that she would encounter any of the castle servants. The princess selected one several streets down from the castle on one of the major roads of the city named The Soiled Dove. Hopefully, being close enough to the major trade streets would prevent any of the men she met in the slums from being there either.



The building was a large establishment, with a rowdy tavern on the first floor and numerous rooms on two upper levels. Jeanette chose this cathouse based on Daniels' description. It was large enough for one girl to get lost in, and large enough that it would likely take on a new girl with such short notice. The princess made her way to The Soiled Dove without incident, and entered the bawdy house. The smell of smoke and liquor, sweat and sex filled the room as the raucous noise of the inhabitants deafened her ears. A makeshift stage was erected on the far side of the room, and a dozen girls paraded about, calling out to the patrons and trying to entice customers. The room was crowded with men, probably at least thirty of them at the bar and at the tables in front of the stage. There were probably even more of them upstairs with some girls right now. Just next to the stage, an older woman stood guard over the stairs leading to the upper levels. Taking her for the Madame, Jeanette cut a path through the men, blushing as some groped at her, smacking her pert, round ass or squeezing a handful of titflesh. Jeanette's heart raced, pounding furiously as she reached the end of her journey, and the beginning of the fantasy. The touch of these men was just foreplay before the main event, but she was already soaked beneath the linen servant's dress.



"Good evening, Madame..." Jeanette opened her cloak, presenting the large tits to the older woman, the tightly cinched dress keeping them held aloft. "I was wondering if...if you needed another girl tonight?"



The Madame looked over Jeanette approvingly, knowing that her endowments, soft skin, and ravishing beauty would make her immensely popular. "Just for one night? I don't take on girls by the night...they always come with problems...be it an angry pip, a bawling baby or diseases that dirty up all the customers."



Jeanette bit her lip, "Please Madame, I really need the money..."



"For what? Paying a woman to get rid of some babe in your belly? Don't want your parents to find out? If you really need the money I can take you on regular, you'd be a big hit I'm sure..." The Madame smiled at the princess, reaching forward the brush her thumb over Jeanette's hard nipple, giving it a soft flick before tugging the neckline of the dress down to let her tit fall out.



Jeanette gasped as her breast became exposed, a rush of pleasure at the exposure rippling through her. Some of the men standing nearby hooted and cheered. The princess felt their eyes on her, and her pussy gushed further with the thought that they would soon be lining up for the chance to fuck her. Her thighs slid together as she gripped the skirt of her dress, knuckles going white as she clutched the fabric around her fingers.



"Please Madame, I...I'm sorry, I lied...I don't need the money...in fact...I can pay..." Biting her lip, Jeanette pulled a small purse from a pocked in the dress. "Five gold marks...to work here for one night." Jeanette leaned in toward the Madame and lowered her voice. "I work for a great lady...I displeased her, and she's ordered me to work here for a night...she gave me the money to help convince you...she...she urges you let her patronize your place...and to make use of me...you can...you can keep all the money I earn of course..."



The Madame looked at Jeanette again, not entirely believing the story. The girl carried herself too well, and spoke too eloquently. Still, five gold marks was a lot of money, and the girl would earn more that night. It was too good an offer to turn down. Besides, who was she to try and question the games the nobility played?



"Very well my dear...I'll let you work here tonight. In fact, I think I can get you started right away..." Turning toward the men who were eagerly watching, she raised her voice above the din of the crowd. "Who wants a piece of my new girl here?" A massive roar was the answer and a line of men began to form. "But first we need to make sure she's Soiled Dove material don't we?" The men laughed in response, cheering and egging the Madame on. Jeanette stood frozen under the attention of all the men. When the Madame pushed her against the wall and began lifting up her skirt, she groaned softly and spread her legs. The Madame lifted the skirt of the dress above Jeanette's waist to expose her pussy. The Madame snickered as she pressed her fingers against the wet folds. "Wet already! She's eager for it boys! And she looks clean enough, so I don't see any reason to hold this up any longer!" The Madame released Jeanette's dress, letting it slide back into place then wiped her fingers on Jeanette's face with a smirk. She finally nudged Jeanette towards the stairs, giving her bottom a smack to send her on her way.

