American "Adult" Film Star Jessie May Blanchard from Pine Ridge Nebraska know professionally as Mitzy Fucksalot contracts to marry Prince Reinhardt on cable TV
The rest as they say is history
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. Prince Boris is actually whipping Mitzy Fucksalot on the steps of the Cathedral!” Ralph Burgundy announced to several hundred public broadcasting viewers across the rust belt of the USA, “Bob Googleheim is at the ceremony, is this a publicity stunt Bob?”
Bob reluctantly turned to camera as Boris reached across and ripped Mitzy’s G string clean off her.
“No, Ralph, it’s no stunt, it looks like Prince Boris’s real pissed,” Bob insisted.
“Is this that English comedian, Baron Sasha Cohen and Mitzy doing a PR stunt?” Ralph asked.
“No, no way, that is genuinely Prince Boris, this is for real,” Bob said and he glanced round to see Mitzy’s ass was now completely naked and criss crossed by red weals.
“More on that story later,” Ralph said as they reluctantly cut away from Mitzy’s very sexy naked ass.
“Marry me!” Boris demanded.
“No!” Mitzy replied.
“That’s twenty sire,” the sweating security man gasped, “Shall I continue?”
“No, you, you take over, twenty more, then twenty more again!” the prince insisted, “Now will you marry me!”
“No never!” Mitzy cried, “I would rather die!”
“You,” Boris snapped, “You with the sword, shave her head!”
“No!” Mitzy cried, “It took me years to grow this!” she declared referring to her mass of golden ringlets.
“Marry me or go bald, your call,” Boris insisted.
Mitzy knew she was beaten, her hair was her trademark, that and her E cup tits.
“Ok you win, I’ll marry you,” Mitzy sighed reluctantly, “Can someone fix up my dress?”
“No time,” Boris insisted, “Anyway its not as if most people haven’t seen you naked in films already.”
“Boris!” Mitzy cried as the security men let her get up and she clasped the ruined dress to her bosoms, “I’m not wearing a bra!”
“Tough, we have a TV schedule to keep,” Boris insisted as he ripped the ruined dress away from her, leaving her breasts exposed above her corset and her crotch exposed and her bared buttocks all criss crossed with red weals.
All across the US and Europe TV channels began to pick up on the unfolding drama and men cheered and whooped as the near naked Mitzy with only her head in its veil and her legs in silk stockings but otherwise bare, was frog marched her down the aisle.
“Priest, ask her again!” Boris bellowed as they approached the altar with Mitzy trying to work out how to cover two breasts and her cunt with just two hands.
Suddenly Mitzy was aware of the cheering, deep coarse laughter and male voices raised in approval, she automatically bowed theatrically, which exposed her massive breasts completely, which encouraged the congregation, or at least the males, to even greater appreciation.
“Mitzy do you?” the priest asked.
“Just say yes,” Boris insisted, “Or good bye golden ringets, hello baldie.”
“Yes,” Mitzy replied.
“And do you Boris?” the priest asked.
“I already said so, yes!” Boris agreed, “Get on with it!”
“I pronounce you man and wife!” the priest announced hesitantly.
“Thank heaven,” Boris agreed, “Oh hell we forgot the ring, where the hell is the ring?”
“Here sire,” Heinrich said quietly as he handed the ring to Boris who promptly jammed it firmly onto Mitzy’s finger, the wrong on as it happened but the camera man got it on film which fulfilled their contractual obligations with Ospreys the jewellers.
“Right we have two minutes leg it!” Boris declared and he grabbed the still near naked Mitzy and rushed her up the aisle to the waiting carriage before the startled organist could even start to murder Mendellshon’s wedding march.
The crowd outside erupted with whoops and cheers as they appeared, Mitzy forgot to hide her rather magnificent E cup silicon tits as she waved happily to the crowd, and even forgot she had no knickers on either so wrapped up in the euphoria of the moment was she.
The carriage departed bang on time, “Where’s my dad?” Mitzy asked.
“Somewhere, do I look as if I care?” Boris asked, “But at least we can collect some royalties, you had me worried back there!”
“Do you really not love me?” Mitzy asked.
“No, of course not,” Boris replied, “We need the money but if your blow jobs are as good as in the movies I’m sure we will rub along just fine!”
“My friend Gobbie Gobroski does the close ups for me ‘cause I gag,” Mitzy said sadly, “She is very good.”.
“Great!” Boris said sarcastically, “Wave to the peasants.”
The carriage swept into the Royal Palace and out of the gaze of public and TV crews alike who believed that a magnificent feast was waiting whereas in fact it was chicken wings, parsnips, carrots and brocoli, with vegetable soup to start and deep pan pizza with strawberry topping for dessert, all washed down with very strong thick dark brown locally brewed beer, which was very good for staining pine wood to look like oak and tasted like a mix of engine oil and paint remover.
“Is this it?” Mitzy said as she surveyed the bare oak table with its motley collection of folding chairs and wider variety of cutlery.
“What do you expect, we sold the family silver years ago,” Boris affirmed.
“Something fit for a Prince maybe?” Mitzy suggested.
“Only on camera, but eat your fill,” Boris suggested, “We have an hour and twenty minutes before the consummation.”
Heinrich sidled up with Alicia on his arm, “Congratulations,” he said staring at Mitzy’s tits, “You were magnificent!”
“Magnificent,” Alicia said absent mindedly as she too stared at Mitzy’s perfect E cup tits.
“Ain’t they just,” Mitzy said, “Best two hundred dollars my dad ever spent, guy in Mornsville North Virginia did them, turned my life right around, you ought to get some.”
“Right,” Alicia agreed, “So you feel comfortable being naked around people.”
“Sure do, when its just crew and folks what pay to perv,” Mitzy said, “Why does it freak you out or something?”
“No, I just wondered,” said Alicia as she wondered what she was to do now Boris was married and probably didn’t need three mistresses anymore.
The Consummation ceremony was scheduled for the long room, Boris had hired a four post bed with lighting rig from a porn movie studio in Karlsbourg and tiered ranks of movie cameramen surrounded the bed on all sides leaving barely room for the newly weds and the various functionaries and official witnesses who had to attest first that the bride was a virgin and secondly that intercourse actually occurred.
Boris took a swift sip from a bottle of Budweiser he had smuggled in and downed three max strength Viagra tablets the 500 mg ones, then he finished his portion of strawberry topped pizza and announced, “The time is nigh beloved!"
“Hey, you don’t expect me to go through with this do you?” Mitzy asked.
“Indeed,” Boris said.
“‘Cause no way am I a virgin,” she explained rather unnecessarily in view of the fact that 98% of the Adult population of the country had seen her in “Mitzy fucksalot’s world fuckfest episode 77 Mitzy fucks Transylvanians,” which was set in the mountains just over the border.
“Mitzy,” Boris said quietly, “Your father signed to say you were a Virgin.”
“Sure, and I was, before I was fucked,” Mitzy explained patiently, “And no guy ever spunked in me, well not in my puss, lest his condi busted that is.”
“Just pretend it’s another film,” Boris suggested.
“Except you’re white and I ain’t fucked a white guy since last summer,” Mitzi explained.
Boris sighed, he tried to concentrate on the royalties on the ceremony and merchandising which might just keep the country solvent, he got the idea from England where Prince William made the country a whole mint of cash with his wedding to some ordinary girl who looked more like Alicia. than a pornstar. Hell she wasn’t even blonde, and she was near thirty, and her sister was a goddess which poor Boris just couldn’t get his head around..
Mitzy by contrast was every guys fantasy, twenty one years old, E cup tits, none too bright, blonde long shapely legs, nice tight ass and the USA’s top grossing porn star six years running.
Boris felt the viagra coursing through his veins and moments later he took Mitzy by the hand and they walked along nearly a hundred yards of corridors from the dining room to the long room because someone had lost the key to the door on the direct route.
Suddenly the state trumpeters sounded the prelude to the nuptials by Webber, and Boris guided Mitzy to the opulent four post bed where several chamber maids wearing black French Maids dresses with crisp white aprons were waiting to help the couple undress.
Mitzy wore so little that she was stripped naked in seconds as her corset, suspenders and stockings were slipped off, but Boris took longer as his starched jacket seemed to have moulded itself to his shape and had to be forced off his shoulders.
Functionaries clustered around the bed ogling Mitzy’s mountainous tits and sweet carefully waxed hairless pussy and her bleached ass hole. They awaited the team of physicians who would observe and attest to Mitzy’s chastity, but first Mitzy had to relax her cunt muscles.
Two women stood by in traditional robes holding feathers waiting to relax the bride. Actually they were Boris’s two senior mistresses, Margurite, his former nanny, and Gerta a school friend of his mothers, both the wrong side of forty.
“Start the inquisition,” Boris cried.
“Sire!” Margurite agreed and she started playing her feather over Mitzy’s left nipple while Gerta started on the right.
“Hey that tickles!” Mitzy gasped.
“What say you physician, is she pure?” Boris asked the first rather elderly physician.
“I must wait until she moistens,” he replied playing for time.
“Looks pretty damned damp to me,” Boris muttered, “Get on with it!”
The physician gently felt between Mitzy’s legs and as the cameras homed in he inserted one, two, three then four fingers into her sopping hole, finally four fingers and a thumb gently slipped inside until he was sheathed to the wrist and only his fancy chunky imitation rolex stopped him inserting his whole forearm inside her.
“Is she chaste?” Boris asked rather pointlessly.
“Chased and caught,” a cameraman muttered, “More times than I’ve had hot dinners.”
“I am not sure,” the physician replied desperately playing for time.
“It is very cold in the mountains this time of year, we have a holiday home there,” Boris reminded him, “For functionaries, maybe you could take a holiday there for the rest of your miserable life.”
“She is pure!” the physician lied as he withdrew his arm with a loud ‘Plop.’ “God save Princess Mitzy!”
“Michelle,” Mitzy’s father piped up, “The new series is Princess Michelle fucks the world! not Mitzy.”
“God save Princess Michelle!” the physician shouted.
“I think a second opinion,” the second physician suggested.
“He just wants to feel me up!” Mitzy protested.
“Fine, feel away,” Boris said distractedly as he stripped off his shirt and put on a striped nightshirt.
The second physician also inserted his whole hand into Mitzy’s cavernous cunt, “Oi!” she shouted when he tried to get his other hand inside as well, “You’re taking liberties!”
“Just checking thoroughly sire,” the second physician apologised.
“Are you satisfied?” Boris asked, and when no one demurred he announced, “Then to the consummation!”
Boris strode to the bed, naked but for the nightshirt he advanced towards Mitzy who lay back on the bed her legs spread wide, “Oh,” she said as she saw his erection spearing against the night shirt, “Is that it?”
“What?” Boris asked.
“Your cock, is that it?” Mitzy asked.
“Yes,” he agreed, “What of it?”
“Gee I ain’t seen one that small in years!” Mitzy declared, “Dad said you was hung!”
“It is twenty centimetres, eight American inches, what do you expect?” Boris demanded.
“Gee, twelve usually, some of those big buck negros is fourteen,” Mitzy explained, “But they got surgical implants and they got a hard on all the time and can’t piss except up in the air.”
“For heavens sake!” Boris exclaimed as his own erection started to falter, “Just lie back and think of dollar signs.”
“You sure say the sexiest things!” Mitzy said and she meant it and Boris climbed over her, pulled his nightshirt out the way and guided his penis gently into Mitzy’s sopping cavernous hole.
“Is it in yet?” Mitzy asked innocently.
“I don’t know, is it?” Boris asked, “It feels like it is.”
“Looks like it,” Alicia agreed, “Can I feel?”
“No!” said Mitzy and Boris together.
“Physician is it in?” Boris asked.
“I have my wrong glasses sire,” the physician lied.
“Oh damnit to hell, let us just assume it’s in,” Boris cried as his cock shrank even more and Mitzy’s cold hard silicon tits jabbed painfully into his rib cage.
“Long live Princess Mitzy!” the physicians shouted in evident relief.
“Long live the Princess!” the people cried and the cry was taken up outside.
“They have fucked!” the people cheered, “We have a new princess!”
Boris tried hard to stay hard but it was hopeless and after five minutes of pointless humping he tried to fake an orgasm, which gave Mitzy her cue for a potentially Porno- Oscar winning faked orgasm and in a tumult of faked passion during they remained oblivious to the fact Boris’s penis had slipped out of Mitzys cunt they faked their passionate love for each other.
They lay together with the curtains around the bed closed while the functionaries departed and they were quite alone apart from the six burly security guards.
“Don’t worry, lots of guys can’t keep it up,” Mitzy said reassuringly, “You can get special pills.”
“I know, I took three,” Boris agreed and he thought about slim beautiful Alicia, and his cock stiffened.
“On second thoughts!” Mitzy cried and she jumped on Boris and impaled herself on his now stiff cock.
Boris closed his eyes and dreamed it was Alicia bouncing on his cock, which was strange because when he fucked Alicia, which was rarely and only if the other two mistresses had their periods together, he had to dream he was fucking a pornstar like Mitzy. He wondered if he ought to have seen a psychiatrist instead of getting married.
Mitzy found the whole thing bizarre, for one thing she was not entirely sure Boris’s cock was actually inside her, as it was so small compared with the big black cocks and huge dildos she usually fucked, while for another it seemed weird that no one was filming her.
She continued bouncing for a while until she got bored and Boris’s face contorted, she thought he had cum but actually it was pain as his cock had gone soft and slipped out and she was bouncing up and down and crushing his balls.
“Whew!” she exclaimed, “What now?”
“What do you mean what now?” Boris asked.
“Usually wardrobe and makeup fix me up and they bring on a new guy for me to fuck with,” Mitzy explained.
“Then how about you give me a blow job before we have anal?” Boris asked.
“Hell I ain’t had no enema nor nothing and I don’t do cock sucking,” Mitzy insisted, “It’s in my contract.”
“Then we must go to the wedding disco,” Boris announced, “We thought it more appropriate than a ball and much much cheaper.”
“What about my dress?” Mitzy asked but already maids were arriving with Mitzy’s party dress and makeup to prepare her for the dance.
Boris saluted and left for his own rooms, “May I help you?” Maria, Mitzy’s new personal maid asked as Boris pushed rudely past her.
“Nope, I don’t reckon there’s nothing left to do, I sure have fucked my life up real good," Mitzy said sadly.
“With your dress madam?" Maria asked.
“Why bother, all I am is a set of tits and an ass to them," Mitzy insisted.
“But madam,” Maria argued.
“It’s highness or some shit isn’t it?” Mitzy insisted.
“Look madam,” Maria explained in far better English than Mitzy could speak, “I did three years at Heidleburg University studying classics before I took this lousy job, I thought you would be some elegant, educated dignified aristo not some fuck anything low down alley cat, so don’t get uppity with me. I could get a job in banking so if you want to be pedantic get another maid."
“Gee,” Mitzy agreed, “You reckon you’re something special ‘cause you done some learning, well you ain’t, you wanna get on in this life you need some of these," she said cupping her huge E cup sillicon tits, “That’s what gets you ahead in life, that and balling big black cocks every day."
“Really? my heart bleeds for you,” Maria sighed, “So are you actually going to the ball completely naked?”
“Yep,” Mitzy agreed, “You’re fired.”
========================================
The last rays of the setting sun shone brightly on the snow covered peak of the Berghoff, making it glow orange against the darkening sky.
The city lights twinkled in the cool air as guests assembled for the wedding ball of Prince Boris and Princess Mitzy but in the palace voices were raised, “She cannot greet the guests naked!” the Queen insisted.
“Oh yes I can it’s in the contract,” Mitzy countered, “That’s what the folks paid a hundred dollars a ticket for, to see my tits for real.”
“You are not going to the ball like that!" Prine Boris insisted.
“Watch me!" Princess Mitzy replied.
Downstairs in the magnificent though crumbling palace ballroom the crowd awaited their new Princess.
The State Orchestra played traditional ponderous tuneless waltzes and polkas on a weird collection of ancient instruments with local pop star Aluitious Hilter who came seventy first in the Eurovision song contest one time providing vocals and putting in some riffs on Bass Guitar.
Suddenly a Fanfare rang out as barefoot and naked Mitzy dodged past Boris and hurtled down the Ballroom steps.
“Hi boys, come and get it,” Mitzy shouted which outraged the Royal family with the lack of decorum normally required of a Royal Princess, but within seconds she was surrounded by men (and women) keen to grab a piece of her tits and ass.
“You think to make me look a fool!” Prince Boris shouted.
“You don’t need no help,” Mitzy shouted back as a big burly Lumber- jack or woodsman hoisted her onto his twelve inch cock and fuck waltzed her around the dance floor, as she wrapped her lags around him and bonnced on his cock to the sway of the music.
Mitzy‘s agent quickly realised the potential for “Fuckdancing with the stars" as a pay TV show as Mitzy shouted “You ripped my dress off remember.”
Boris looked distraught and Mitzy almost felt sorry for him, but there was other guys to ball and she hoped he dad was keeping records of who to bill, because she didn’t speak the lingo.
“Look!” the King gasped, “She fucks on the dance floor!”
“Do you remember when we?” the Queen asked.
“Frankly no,” the King replied, “It was so long ago.”
“Oh,” the Queen agreed as she jealously watched as Mitzy climbed off her Lumberjack and spread the guys cum around her ass hole so she could climb aboard as two new guys DP’d her, the new princess on the dance floor as other revellers waltzed around her.
The schnapps flowed and guests mingled with film camera men as they got footage for Mitzy’s next half dozen porno’s “Princess Mitzy fucks Peasants I to VI.”
“Phew!” Mitzy exclaimed after an hour and about thirty five cocks as she sat between the Queen and Prince Boris.
“Disgusting!” the queen opined jealously.
“Well they wanted a pornstar for a Princess so that’s what I’m delivering,” Mitzy insisted.
“Then if you cannot be faithful Boris will have to divorce you,” the Queen insisted.
“Hallelujah!” Mitzy cheered.
“It would be good for the TV ratings Ma’am,” one of the officials who just couldn’t take his eyes off Mitzy’ tits suggested, “We could have the divorce in Sochi as part of the Winter Olymics?”
“There is no way I am fucking in the snow again,” Mitzy insisted.
But fate had not been kind to Mitzy and come morning she had an ugly rash and an itchy snatch.
“Goddamnit!” she exclaimed and she packed her suitcase and caught the early morning train across the border and hopped on the first plane back to the USA.