appologies for the length, i hope its worth it
I lied on my CV about my experience as a chef and a waiter, but fortunately this lie got me work at Buckingham palace working for the queen herself, I would bring her cups of tea, and serve her at meal times; it grew to quite a strong friendship, perhaps even intense.

By an unexpected piece of good fortune, a few years in to my working for her, her personal aide was exposed to be a reporter for the sun, but like the pussy they all are, he ran away, and I, as her majesties favorite was able to slip in his place, helping her out in day to day life, organizing her diary, running errands, and even helping her with the new computer she'd just got, it was hopeless trying to explain the internet to her.

As we came closer through our work, she allowed me to dress down the posh suit I was wearing a little, loosing the tie and loosening the shirt at first, but as dress down Friday became everyday I dressed more and more casually, eventually to the point where I was wearing my old seventies attire a red and green tie-dyed t-shirt and flares.

Then I started to take advantage of her trust and fondness to indulge in my crush on her, I knew it was wrong to fancy the queen of England, but I couldn’t help it. I wanted her, and I was trying to let her know it with the informal dress by moving to shorts, tight cycling shorts, and an open shirt, surely she couldn’t resist that?

And by some miracle she couldn’t, we began to spend more time alone, and giving each other the odd peck on the cheek. But over the next few weeks it went like a whirlwind, falling head over heals in love.

Unfortunately it apparently wasn’t quite enough for me, as after a few months when I was working at the Charles - Camilla wedding. The queen, or Little Lizzy as I called her now, had offered me, as her personal aide, as a gift to Camilla to help her out on the day, so I helped her with her make-up, helped keep her calm, helped her with her dress, etc.

But it was in that last errand it came unstuck, while helping her put on her dress I saw all her beautiful body, and she noticed I was getting hard, one thing led to another and we ended up having a quickie on the floor.

This I could have kept quiet, were it not for the Chlamydia infection she passed on to me, god damn that hurt. Every time I went to the bog it was like pissing razors, fucking hurt my rude bits like id never felt before.

Unfortunately I had passed this on to the queen before symptoms showed up, I was a dead man. I had to tell her about the one night stand with Camilla, and as soon as I did she denied our entire relationship and accused me of rape, straight to the top of the sex offenders register I was put.

That march from the palace to the police van, in front of all the press and the photographers was totally humiliating, yet there was nothing I could do about it, it was undoubtedly the worst journey I’ve ever made. But that wasn’t the end of it, for the entire journey in the van to the cells angry subjects lined the route, hurling abuse and missiles, such road-rage I’ve never seen in my life and to add insult to injury, and a burning penis, I was barred from coming within 5 miles of Buckingham palace and the queen, for life.

So here I sit in prison, arse rapped thrice daily, I’m starting to get used to it now. My biggest regret in my life has to be sleeping with Camilla, if it weren’t for that I could still be happily working with the queen in our intimate relationship


no penis jokes please, mine still hurts
( wjh31, Sun 15 Oct 2006, 16:49, Reply)