Milk Princesses Novels & Stories

The lord of hell snapped, growling as he took a threatening step towards her; his stance seeming almost predatory. The princess repeated her long sigh, carefully reaching out to take the small glass of orange juice from Michael as her shoulders sagged in defeat; knowing that as usual they were giving her no choice. She sipped the juice slowly, the cold liquid soothing as it slid down her throat. Testing her stomach, she continued to drink the fresh orange, pleased when nothing happened. After a few moments, Elika placed the juice back onto the tray, hesitantly picking up the bowl of porridge. She gagged instantly, her stomach wrenching painfully as the bland porridge slid down her throat. Th

I asked, concerned when he left. “You should be more worried about yourself princess” My smile faltered. Princess. I almost forgot about him. Almost. In the next two minutes, our table was filled with three ice-cream milkshakes, a slice of apple pie, chocolate pie, cheese and onion pie, pecan pie, two slices of nutella brownies, large mayo fires, a jumbo cheese burger, three stuffed cheese sticks, three jam heart tarts, lemon tarts and chocolate heart tarts with a bowl full of Caesar salad and one Turkey on Rye.

I got my favorite chippy, Merk got a soft drink. "Hey idiots buy yours!" "You hate Trixie." I said. Is he like that when it comes to food, picky? It's like he's going to use it all up, there's so much. "What Trixie! Call me princess because I'm a princess!" Well, not wow. Princess where? princess of gluttons? "So, we should be called prince, then you are our princess." Merk promised. "Nope. You're my disciples and not princes, you're like my nannies bwahaha--ohoo tutangina water is a soft drink." I laughed when he choked.

“Bella you’re going to make me miss you.” “Good! I want you to never forget me.” “I will never forget you, ever!” groaned Crown Prince. He lifted her face from his d*ck and had her lean back into the bed. He took off her dress and started to suckle on her nipples. Bella let out loud gasps of pleasure. “Your breasts are bigger now.” Bella nodded. “Yes.” “Have you milk yet?” “No,” said Bella, shaking her head. “Not yet.” Crown Prince said, “Well, I’m going to suck on them like baby will.”

Evari said and few mistresses laughed which made the mistress mortified. "There is no way we can stop that !" Delilah objected, "There is no way we can stop you caring about your nonsensical beauty standard and starving the Crown Prince some nutrients ?" Evari replied so curtly and almost immediately, leaving Delilah shocked. "Did you just say the Crown prince is deprived of milk ?" Maidservant Lady Mira questioned, "Ofcourse !" Evari said. "The bill is passed, Henceforth, a mistress is entitled to a gallon of milk in a week, and a Concubine is entitled to two !" Maidservant Lady Mira said.

“Good morning princess.” “I’m not a princess, I'm not five.” “No you’re not.” I looked at her. “Here, I brought you something to eat and drink before we start.” She looked at the porridge and the glass of juice I brought her. “It’s not poisoned. I don’t want to kill you Milly. I just want your help. Once you’ve eaten, we’ll begin again and I promise you can have a shower and get out of these dirty clothes, okay?”

Delilah knew precisely who she was by the insignia on the red cape, the tremor in her voice, and the tension in her posture. “You’re…you’re…Princess Clara." The Alpha King's kingdom was close to Ornxville, and Princess Clara was a regular at many bars in town. So much so there was a cocktail created in her name that only true alcoholics and crazy people could handle. Unlike her siblings, Princess Clara enjoyed slumming it with regular folks and found many ways to embarrass her father's name. She had no care in the world for her title, or at least that's what Delilah thought.

But they sat there, real and solid, and nothing collapsed when I said them. I even believed them. A little. Mariah slid onto the bench and crossed her legs, still watching me. “Princesses have it made, you know.” I snorted, dabbing carefully under my eye in case my mascara smudged. “Yeah? How so?” “Think about it,” she said. “They have people at their beck and call. Stylist on demand. Hair and makeup squad. Someone to tailor every dress. If I had a chef to cook all my food and a trainer who worked me out every day, I’d feel and look like a princess too.”

THE MAFIA'S PRINCESS. THE END💕

I sucked in a long sip of my coffee, waiting for him to go on. “They forced her to watch his death, then they raped her, over and over, trying to impregnante her. Andromeda was a white witch though, and knew what to do to ensure she was free of pregnancy, and they kept her in such a terrible state that she constantly miscarried anyway.” He heaved a sigh, and his eyes were sad with regret for what had been done to the woman.