Pleasing Princess E-Book

Mena Thrace

• Herausgeber: Boruma Publishing
• Kategorie: Erotik
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2015

Beschreibung

Pleasing Princess

Leseprobe

Pleasing Princess

By Mena Thrace

Copyright 2015 by Mena Thrace

Cover Design by Fianna Branigan

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses or establishments, groups, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

This book is meant for sale to adult audiences only. It contains sexually explicit scenes and language which may be considered offensive. All sexually active characters in this work are eighteen (18) years of age or older.

Thank you for supporting the work of the author.

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Table of Contents

Welcome To Whimsyland

A Note To My Favorite People In All The Worlds

If You Liked This Story…

Welcome To Whimsyland

Once upon a time there was one very disgruntled tomboy who did not want to be a pretty, pretty Princess but had no choice in the matter.

Well, that was not actually true- to be fair Wendy had a choice, despite only being two years into her five year contract with Whimsy Land Enterprises- but it was as good as true as things could get. If she backed out before her five years was up she would be sued for breach of contract and that would make things ugly as hell for her; besides all of that, there were some serious perks to her job that she adored and she knew she would not find at any other place of employment. So she sucked it up twelve hours a day, five times a week, and was the best damn pretty, pretty Princess she could possibly be.

It took Wendy two hours every morning to have every inch of herself prepared for her job. She would arrive at work at seven AM on the dot, a stumbling wreck with her hair going every which way and a dazed, slightly displeased look on her face. She was usually clutching some energy drink, the largest can she could find, and she would enter her makeover room (or, in work terms since even behind the scenes the workers were expected to stay in character, the Princess’ Closet) and try her best every morning not to throw her can at one of her Fairy Godmothers.

They were a darling trio and Wendy adored them but she could never understand their unceasing ability to stay in character. She had once joked that if she had to arrive at seven AM to be made up and get in character than that meant the three of them had to arrive at five AM...which meant the three of them either never went home or never broke character. And who dressed them and prepared their makeup, anyway?

They just clucked and petted on her, one of them always trying to pull her can away and just laughing and cooing at her when she growled.

No one was taking her caffeine from her, especially not that damn early in the morning. It was her lifeblood, for goodness sake. How was she supposed to get going if they took her magical elixir away from her?

Somehow each morning they made it through the tiring ordeal of getting her into her proper wardrobe, fixing her hair just right and getting her makeup on. By the time they were done she never recognized herself in the mirror. Where had Wendy went, she of the untamable hair, the torn jeans and the oversized boots? In her place was this lovely being, each detail perfect. She sparkled, she shone. Each strand of hair was just right. She looked the part of a Princess. If that wasn’t magic she was not sure what was.

It was all thanks to the Fairy Godmothers that she staggered in a tired and frazzled tomboy and waltzed out a radiant and shining Princess.

She did love them, despite their unending positivity and abundant energy (and no energy drinks needed, from what Wendy had observed). True, she did not understand how they never seemed to lose their enthusiasm, especially so early in the morning, but she had to admit that over the years they had grown on her.

Even if she was not a morning person.

Never had been. Bless their hearts for being able to deal with her so patiently. Never once pulling her hair or tightening the corset too much; no accidental poking of any eyes as they did her makeup. No, they bubbled and chortled around her for the time it took to get her physically prepared so that by the time she moved on to orientation (in work lingo: Royal Proclamations) she was usually in a pretty good mood.

That good mood never lasted for long. It usually died within a few minutes of her entering the main room where everyone was gathered. People were partnered or grouped up according to what area of the park they worked in and what story their characters had come from. For being so early in the morning it was usually a pretty loud affair. It reminded her of morning assembly in high school. A lot of laughter, rowdy calls and an overall energy she found satisfying. She liked sitting amongst all the energetic, cheerful sounds; she never contributed, just soaked it all up and enjoyed it for what it was.

Until.

“Took you long enough.” James did not bother glancing her way as she sat down beside him. It was not so much the words he greeted her with, necessarily, as the tone he delivered it in. He managed to sound condescending and bored, as if he expected nothing less from her.

“Shut the fuck up, James. I’m not late.”

“Tsk, tsk. That’s no way for a Princess to talk.”

“I have your Princess right here and you know wh [...]