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Old 02-10-2018, 11:05 AM   #1
Snuggle Hoarder
Join Date: Jun 2013
Location: California
Posts: 26
wafflecone can now change their title
Default Arrangement (BHM, FFA, XWG, Dining, Stuffing)

~BHM, ~FFA, ~XWG, Dining, Stuffing)

A young royal couple discover they're at their happiest when the king can avoid anything like serious responsibilities and the queen does her best to indulge him.

by wafflecone

Part One

It had all been arranged when they were young. Amalia had been raised knowing who her husband was and what a good match it would be for both of their kingdoms. They met once as young children before they married, but when they were sealed to each other before a crowd of thousands, it may as well have been the first time.

The first few months were pleasant. Prince Connor was athletic and made their marriage bed quite inviting. Amalia liked him well enough. She found him a bit lacking in political skill but reassured herself that his interest in matters of governance would grow once they were both crowned.

Amalia was right, to a degree. When they were both crowned six months later, after they had both reached the rightful ruling age of twenty, Connor did his best to be a kind and just king. But Amalia had learned her husband’s moods well in their short marriage. She could see how tiresome he found it and how frustrated he often was. Amalia, being a political adept, did her best to help. She counseled him well whenever he asked and began to take on other things. She handled his political correspondence and attended council meetings regularly so he wouldn’t have to. This gave Connor more freedom to do as he liked most days, and he was happy.

Amalia found herself quite happy, too. While other monarchs found the hard work of governance beneath them, Amalia took great pride and pleasure in knowing everything that was going on in her nation. It was her duty and she might as well do it right.

Unfortunately, because she was only a ruler by marriage rather than birth, there were many things she could not do. While she could advise Connor about important lawmaking decisions, she could not actually enact most of them on her own. Amalia found this irksome. Connor had no desire to rule. He wanted to ride horses and eat and drink his fill and flirt with courtiers. Why should he be bothered when she was the more capable one?

Years passed. Amalia still had little real power, but she did the vast majority of the work that kept the nation running. Connor seemed to be running less and less these days. To be fair, running was a bit difficult for him now that he had begun to grow rather plump. He was still quite handsome and very energetic in his marital ministrations. Amalia found that as muscles had given way to fat, she had found him more desirable. She liked how relaxed and indolent he had become. He still rode occasionally and danced quite well and took part in more leisurely activities outdoors. But for some reason, food and drink had become more pleasurable to him than most of his old athletic hobbies. Amalia wasn't about to discourage him. He had introduced her to one of her own new favorite pastimes: watching him eat.

She found herself delighted when he overextended himself at meals. His cheeks would grow red from all the wine in him and his belly would bow out beneath his clothes. He would whisper to her that he required her “most especial attention” and belch and groan as discreetly as he could manage. Amalia would then request some of his favorite treats be brought up to their chambers. They would make their way to their rooms and dismiss all the servants. She would undress him and herself, let him get settled on the bed, and then bring platters of culinary delights with her as she joined him in bed to straddle his lap and hand-feed him mouthfuls of treats.

She loved that when he could swallow no more he would command her to massage his belly with warm oils. She always obliged, and was secretly delighted when she noted that his belly was surging ever forward, his lap disappearing inch by inch.

It was during a council meeting (one of the few the king had attended that entire year, and only because the council had specifically requested his presence) that Amalia realized her husband’s voracious appetite might actually work in her favor.

The royal councilors cleared their throats and looked at each other meaningfully. Connor sighed heavily. “Just spit it out,” he snapped. He was missing his usual midday meal to be at this meeting and the grumbling of his pampered belly was making him irritated. Amalia put her slim hand over his, reminding him to behave. He slumped against the back of his chair in a bit of a huff, but tried to calm himself with the knowledge that his dear Amalia had promised she would feed him like a prize hog after this inane meeting was over.

One councilor finally spoke up. “Sire…” She cleared her throat. “It has come to the attention of the council that you have not been to a council meeting in over eleven months.”

“And what of it? Queen Amalia acts as my eyes and ears here.”

“Yes, sire. That is our concern. As your spouse, she is welcome, of course, but as she is not of our nation’s royal line by blood, everything must be decided by you in the end. It has become a tedious process. Important legislation has had to wait because you have been difficult to reach. We need you here, sire. At least once a month.”

Amalia felt a twinge of sadness and irritation. She had done her best to ferry the king’s wishes and signatures back to the council as quickly as possible, but it hadn't been enough. Her husband didn’t want any of this, and yet he was going to have it foisted upon him because of outdated laws. And she would have every scrap of control that she had spent so many years consolidating taken from her.

“Amalia is my equal. There is no reason she shouldn’t have just as much say in things. She’s the one who is here.”

“That may well be, but the law says…”

The king slammed his fists on the table and stood, startling everyone. “Damn the bloody law!” He took a deep breath. Amalia was near enough to hear his stomach growl. “If there is any other business today, you may discuss it with Amalia. I’m taking my leave.” He stormed out.

Amalia soon followed, pausing only to ask a servant to pass along the king’s lunch order to the kitchens. When she arrived at their chambers, the king was shoveling candied fruit into his mouth at a furious pace. He was pacing across the room. “My love…”

“It isn’t fair!” he cried. “I didn't ask to be born a king. I don’t even want it.” He popped a particularly large hunk of sugared mango between his lips and chewed it angrily. He tried to speak around the mango, but Amalia couldn't understand a word. A small part of her was amused at the thought of Connor being anything but a king—as some peasant who would do anything to try the latest spices from the East, or a noble’s coddled son, eating his way through the family fortune. Only a king could eat as he did without consequence.

She crossed the room and reached out to him, hands moving to his soft stomach. “We’ll find a way to fix it, sweeting. We can draft a new law together and propose it at the next council meeting.” She moved so that she was behind him, her hands kneading his love handles and stroking over the dome of his belly. “For now, enjoy your treats. Here, come sit.” She led him to his favorite chair. It was wide and comfortable, easy to spread out in. He sat down. Amalia kneeled between his legs and took the plate of fruit from him. She watched the bulge in his pants grow.

She fed him a morsel. He sighed contentedly. “This is all I want. For my dear Queen to pamper me, to taste all life’s pleasures, and not be bothered with bureaucratic nonsense.”

“I’ll make it so.”
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Old 02-20-2018, 11:47 AM   #2
fat hiker
Join Date: Oct 2005
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The start of something grand! Or at least regal.
"Eat, Eat! You will gain weight and be more attractive!"
- Russian Tour Hostess of the 1980s, as reported in National Geographic
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