Category fiction/erotic humour

From Pine Ridge to Princess.

The afternoon sun shone brightly on the Berghoff, its snow covered peak dazzlingly white against the clear blue sky.

The city was almost deserted everyone seemed glued to their TVs or lining the streets from the Palace to the Cathedral for today Prince Boris was to marry and they were to have a new princess who would one day be their queen.

A glamorous young woman from the USA, Jessica May Blanchard from Pine Ridge Nebraska known to the whole world as US number 3 Pornstar, Miss Mitzy Fucksalot.

“Do you Mitzy Fucksalot, ah I mean Jessica May Blanchard take this man, Prince Reinhardt Boris Albert Karl Ubrecht Glissanbourg Friedrich De Rhennsberg Stanschloss to be your lawful wedded husband?” the priest asked in American so Mitzy could understand.

“No,” she said quietly.

“To love him and cherish him and,” the priest continued.

“What!” the prince snapped.

“I can’t your highness, sorry,” Mitzy said awkwardly as she stood before the cathedral’s high altar dressed in a hundred thousand dollar’s worth of dazzling pure white see through wedding dress, with some three million Euros worth of diamonds round her neck “It’s not right.”

“What do you mean ‘It’s not right.”

“I don’t love you!” she declared.

“I don’t love you either,” Boris replied honestly in barely accented American, acquired whilst at Harvard. “But who cares, you fuck in movies for a living, surely you can fuck me, for three million euros worth of TV and Film royalties where’s the difference?”

“But this is like god and all that,” Mitzy protested.

“Really,” Boris replied, “So why wait until now after we spend over two million Euros on a state wedding service before you decide it’s not right?” he asked.

“I just can’t marry you, ok? surely you can claim on the insurance?” she asked somewhat naively.

“What insurance,” he queried, “Anyway we are on prime time TV in twenty seven different countries, and we have to be through before the world cup qualifiers start so pull yourself together and say ‘Yes!”

“No!” she repeated.

“Sire,” Heinrich the prince’s groomsman cautioned, “The time passes, the world cup soccer tournament.”

“I know,” the Prince snapped, “I know, I ask again, will you marry me?” he asked her again.

“No!” she said.

“Oh for heaven’s sake,” he snapped in exasperation, “How can you be so stupid?”

“I don’t know, my teacher said I was stupid so I had my tits done instead of taking examinations,” Mitzy replied coyly as she stared into Boris’s rugged but hansom face, “I guess I done ok with the porn and modelling and everything, but, anyway you’re way too old for me, and these people deserve a decent clean living princess not a LA pornstar.”

Boris recoiled in shock, he never realised Mitzy actually cared about anything beyond the next black cock she had to screw and while he knew he had the air of an elder statesman he was still only twenty nine and Mitzy was at least twenty one. Suddenly his anger boiled over and he stamped his foot in a fit of rage.

“Guards,” the prince shouted, “Seize her, and seize that so called manager father of hers what ever he is, take her outside, and him, just keep him here!”

“But,” Alicia, the prince’s long time number three mistress and chief bridesmaid exclaimed, “If she won’t marry you I will.”

“I thank you for that but we need Mitzy’s money,” he replied sadly because Alicia really was quite something, ok, maybe a tad lacking tit wise, but beautiful unlike his two other official mistresses Margurite, his former Nanny, and Gerta a school friend of his mothers, who were frankly past it.

Boris turned to his bodyguards, “Outside with her!” he said somewhat nastily, “Now!”

Strong hands gripped Mitzy‘s slender arms as several smartly dressed security guards scrambled to their feet and grabbed Mitzy and man-handed her to the main door of the cathedral.

All across Europe news services suddenly realised a mid European non event was getting interesting as several US based porno outfits with several different TV and Video crews started to contact the major networks to try to sell real time footage as the wedding turned to farce.

Coverage changed from remote cameras at the altar to the big bulky turntable mounted Cameras set up to cover their departure in a pure white carriage drawn by pure white horses following the service.

Mitzy protested but four burly security guards dragged her protesting down the aisle, while another three struggled with the train of her opulent wedding dress.

“Bend her over your knee and lend me a belt,” the Prince called as they exited the massive vaulted doorway, the security men struggled to comply.

“Sit on the top step!” the Prince added, “Now man, just do it.”

“Sah!” the senior security man replied, in local dialect, “Spin her round, hold her down Dornberger, you take her over your knee,” he said loudly and then whispered, “And no groping!”

They spun her round and a Dornberger sat on the top step they pushed Mitzy down over his knee and tried to pull the massive silken wedding dress train aside.

“Belt,” the prince ordered, “And get rid of that damned train, hack it off if you have to, lets see her ass!”

“No!” Mitzy protested, “It ain’t insured!” she insisted, “The dress I mean.”

“Then you’ll marry me?” the prince queried.

“I can’t,” she said awkwardly.

“Bare her ass than,” he replied, “Now!”

A soldier resplendent in his red livery stepped forward, his badges proclaiming him to be a lieutenant general “Allow me!” he suggested as he took his ceremonial sword and hacked easily through the layers of thin fabric, revealing the outline of Mitzy’s famous buttocks, though in reality footage of Karen Horten’s ass was usually used in Mitzy’s porno’s because her ass was disappointingly bony.

“No!” Mitzy pleaded as they hacked the ten metres of pure white see through parachute quality silk away.

“Marry me!” the prince demanded.

“No!” Mitzy refused as coast to coast TV stations began to show the action in real time as the hourly news shows came on.

TV and video crews jostled for the best view, the crowds waiting to see the Prince and beautiful new Princess leave the cathedral pushed forward for a better view, pushing the thin green line of policemen backwards up the steps. The prince took a stout leather belt from a security man and struck Mitzy’s ass through the tanged remains of the wedding dress.

Mitzy barely felt the blow, “This is useless,” the prince exclaimed, “Cut the damned thing off, cut the lacing! Use your sword.”

The soldier deftly slipped the slender sword blade under the lacing on the back of Mitzy’s already ruined wedding gown and turned it to slice through the silk laces with its razor sharp edge.

The prince himself pulled the ruined garment aside before ripping the underskirt down to reveal Mitzy’s silky white G string and suspenders.

“Maybe this will persuade you?” the prince asked as he slashed the belt down diagonally across Mitzy’s exposed buttocks.

“No never, I hate you!” she cried, “Ouch!”

He hit her again but the heavy ornate uniform was hampering him, “Here, you have a go!” he said to a security guard, “Take your jacket off, put your back into it!”

“Whack!” the belt flashed down.

“Agghhhh!” Mitzy cried.

“Absolutely bizarre news is coming in live from the marriage of Prince Boris of Waszockstan to LA pornstar Mitzy Fucksalot at the Cathedral of the Holy Virgin.