Prince Julian of Havishem was bored.

This would surprise many, who naturally assumed that a twenty year old prince had ample things to keep him occupied. From hunting on horseback, practicing his swordsmanship, or even having a bit of fun with the scullery wenches.

But Julian had done all of that, and it provoked no interest in him. He was the tired bored. The sort of laconic boredom that keeps a man in bed all day. That eats away at motivation until only sluggish laziness remained. He was in his prime, his father ruled their admittedly small kingdom, and he had nothing to do. He exhaled deeply, pushing out his lip so he blew some of his nut-brown hair out of his eyes. Finally, he leaned over, picked up a bell, and gave it a ring.

The guard opened the door to the prince’s private quarters. “My lord?”

“Get me the jester, Ogoff.”

The guard hesitated. “Ah… I’m afraid, sire, Ogoff is no longer employed here.”

Julian stirred atop his chair. “He’s not? Why?”

“It seems he made an inopportune joke to your father, my lord, and was thrown into the moat, where a crocodile got him.”

Damn. Not again. Julian frowned, resting his chin in his palm. “Well, what am I supposed to do?” he demanded of the hapless man.

“Er, we do have a new jester, my lord.”

Julian’s ears perked up. “A new one?”

“Yes, sire. A goblin maid recently hired.”

Julian cocked his head. A goblin maid? He’d heard much of the lovely green women. Apparently they were skilled alchemists and flirtatious homewreckers, but jesters? That was a new one. His curiosity piqued, Julian gestured. “Well, summon her. The prince wishes to be entertained.”

The guard bowed, ducking back out. Julian sagged once more on his chair. A goblin jester? How curious…

As he was musing on this concept, the door suddenly burst open and in tumbled a flash of red, green and lace. Julian jumped up in his seat as the ball unfurled to reveal a green woman positively made of curves. Short, her breasts stretched the window of her top, revealing a teasing green valley within. A crown of jangling bells was on her head and her hair coiled in two buns. Her lips were painted a luscious red as she smiled at him, and her eyes teasingly ochered. A skirt with a broad, flaring hem whirled with gold and tassels as she bounded into the room, cutting a bow.

Julian was shocked at how lovely the goblin was. Not only because her large breasts were almost comical on such a short figure, but because her flaring skirt promised a similar dimension to her hips.

“Hello! Hello! And be pleased. Rammia, the fool, has come to play! She knows tricks! She knows jacks! She knows just where it’s at! My Prince, my King! It would please me to please you, and make your head spin!”

Julian stared at the goblin maid, for a moment too stunned to speak. She giggled and curtsied, the bells of her jangling crown ringing.

“I’ve rendered you speechless, my lord. What a fine thing for a jester to do! And now, if you’ll please, I’ll entertain you!”

Julian found himself staring down through the window of the goblin’s shirt, the firm, green valley of her breasts teased. He started, coming back to himself, flushing. Was that a smile on Rammia’s lips? Well, one would hope so. She was a jester. But it almost seemed like there had been more to it…

“Ahem.” Julian cleared his throat purposefully. “Yes, jester. I find myself bored. Entertain me.”

“You came to the right gob, my Prince. I’ll astound you! Delight you! Play the pipes for you. My skills are boundless as are my humours. Now, let’s begin! Some jokes, my lord?”

“Jokes?” Julian said, oddly disappointed. He shrugged, lounging back in his chair. “Sure, why not? Joke for me, goblin.”

“Certainly, my prince! But goblin jokes are very interactive! Shall you aid me in my joculisms?”

Julian wasn’t sure ‘joculism’ was actually a word, let alone plural, but he shrugged. “Sure, jester.”

“Great! You just have to watch my pretty hips sway…”

Julian had no problem with that. The goblin’s hips were perfect counterpoints to her overall hourglass figure. The sequins of her skirt flickered as her lower body swung from side to side, her hands stroking along her legs, her hips.

“What’s big and dumb and has horns?” Rammia cooed.

“A bull?” Julian said.

“Good job, sire! You’re a smart one,” she giggled.

Julian smirked. “Hardly a test of my abilities,” he said.

“Absolutely, my lord! So here’s a harder one. But make sure you keep watching my hips! Watching them sway. Side to side. Back and forth. Back and forth.”

Julian did return to watching. It wasn’t hard. In fact, it was quite soothing to watch the lovely goblin sway. A dance just for him. He inhaled slowly, exhaled, sinking into his chair as he watched.

“What’s got two legs, two arms, and loves to listen to pretty girls?”

“Hmm? What?” Julian said.

“A bimbo!”

Julian chuckled, though he wasn’t sure why. The joke didn’t make sense. But it did make sense to laugh. If he laughed, Rammia would keep swinging her hips. And Julian loved watching that…

“Who does whatever pretty girls say?”

“Who?”

“A good boy! Gosh, my lord. You’re soooo good at this!”

“Well, maybe,” Julian said, blushing.

“Nooo, you are, my lord! You’re so clever and sweet and good for watching my hips sway. Wanna have even more fun?”

“Uh huh…”

“How about watching my breasts?”

Instinctively, Julian raised his eyes. Her breasts swayed with her hips, bound up tightly in her shirt, the window cutting a circle in it that entranced his eyes. Sequins sparkling like jewels. Shining. Glittering… Julian’s jaw slowly fell open as he stared.

“Do you like watching my breasts, my lord?” Rammia cooed.

“Yeah,” Julian breathed.

“Good boy!”

Julian blushed. “Um, what… what did you…”

“Oops! Did I call you a good boy? I’m sorry, my prince. It’s just that, like you said, good boys do anything that pretty girls say. And you looked straight at my breasts the second I said it. I didn’t mean to offend you. You can look away.”

Y-yes. Julian could look away. He knew this. But… but he also didn’t want to. Something about the way her breasts swayed in the tight shirt she wore just fascinated him. Enthralled him. Not to mention made him feel increasingly hot, and his pants increasingly tight.

“Th-that’s… I mean… I can keep looking…”

“Aw, you will? What a good boy my royal prince is!”

Julian felt his cheeks glow. He wriggled, the pleasant heat throbbing through him again at those words. “Um, yes. Yeah. I’m… right.”

“Wanna keep playing?”

“Yes,” Julian said instantly.

Rammia giggled. “Oooh! So eager! Then, how about we play a different game! It’s called ‘Guess the Word’, and for every one you get right, I take off some clothes! And if you get them all right, then you get my crown!”

She gave her jester’s cap another nod, the bells ringing soothingly. Julian sighed, smiling dimly. What a fun game that sounded like. And he’d get to see Rammia getting naked! That sounded like the best thing yet. He nodded happily.

“Okay.”

“Yaaaay! Oh my lord, this is a tricky one. What animal goes meow?”

“A… a cat?”

Rammia clapped her hands. “Yes! Well done my lord! Oooh, you are so smart! And that means I get to take my top off!”

Julian was practically drooling as Rammia zipper down her shirt, tossing it aside with a flick of her hand, revealing the plush curves of her breasts, bound up in a lacy patterned bra, twin stripes of red and white spiralling from the peaks of her breasts and down the fabric. Spirals that seemed to spin as she moved closer, still dancing for him. Still swaying for him…

“What animal goes moo, my prince?” she asked, her voice deeper. Huskier. Hungrier. A sound that made Julian acutely aware of her body and femininity. Aware of a strange, enticing feeling of helpless pleasure aching through him.

Julian had to think about that one. What animal went moo? It was on the tip of his tongue. A tongue that was licking his lips as Rammia teased her thumbs along the band of her skirt.

“Come on, my lord. You know it,” she breathed.

“A… a… um… a c-cow?” Julian said.

Rammia’s face lit up with joy. “Well done, my lord! You’re so clever. That’s right! A cow moos. A big… milky… fat titted cow moos…”

Julian swallowed hard as her breasts swayed. Closer. Closer. He suddenly realized she was between his legs, looking up at him, her breasts level with his far from subtle bulge. Julian felt hot with embarrassment, but couldn’t find the strength to move. He felt lazy. Soft. Weak. Pliable as Rammia’s breasts bounced before him.

Bounce.

Bounce.

“This one’s for all the marbles, my lord,” Rammia cooed, leaning in closer. “All the pretty, sparkly baubles. If you win, you get my hat. And I just know you can do it, my lord. Who wears a jangly crown all loaded with bells?”

“Y-you?” Julian gasped.

Rammia giggled. “Mmm. Soooo close, my lord,” the busty goblin tutted, her finger running up his bulge, making the prince gasp, groan as his cock throbbed in his pants, so hard, the rest of him so weak. “Who? What do we call those who wear this kind of crown?”

“Um… uh…” Julian gasped, his mind oozing, melting, sloshing with liquid arousal. He was so horny. She was so beautiful. Her eyes shining. Her breasts bouncing. Pressing forward. Pressing against his cock, stroking him through his pants. His breath caught as sweetest pleasure ached from his groin.

“Come on, Julian. You know who wears the silly crown. Who wears it?” Rammia breathed, reaching back, undoing her bra with a click. She cupped her breasts before it could fall off, squeezing those ample orbs around his bulge. “Who? Who wears it?”

“Ah… the… um… the j-jester!” Julian gasped, the idea popping into his head like a bubble. “Jester! Jester wears it!”

“That’s right!” Rammia squealed, leaning in closer, her breasts pressing down on his groin, making him groan in pleasure. “That’s right! Only silly jesters wear the crown! Only silly bimbo dumb dumbs! Well done, my lord! I knew you could do it. And here comes your reward!”

Giggling, Rammia climbed into his lap, planting her curvy bottom firmly on his groin. Julian groaned aloud as her rump ground against his cock, her hands leaving her bra to let it fall away, lifting off her comical hat, crowning him with a jingle of bells.

“There we go! Oooh, you look so good with it on, Julian! And who wears the silly crown?”

“Th-the bimbo,” Julian gasped, the bells ringing in his ears.

“And what does that make you?” Rammia cooed as she slid her ass back and forth against his cock, feeling the dampness of his pre in the fabric.

“Th-the bimboooooh,” Julian moaned, his face flushed, his head thumping, fit to bursting with the arousal surging through him.

“Very good! And you know the best thing about bimbos? The best, most wonderful, silliest thing about them? They always cum… for their mistress! They just can’t help it. They’re just so horny and dumb, they’ll cum only for their mistress like good boys! So if you cum, Julian, what does that make you?”

Her eyes burned like molten gold. Her ass pressed down on his cock until Julian was trembling beneath her, panting in desperation. His head tilted back. He couldn’t resist. Couldn’t fight back. Every instinct screamed for him to say it. To beg for it.

“Youuuur bimboooooo!” Julian wailed as he came, his cock throbbing in his pants, spurting helplessly under the goblin’s ass. Searing white pleasure swept through him in a wave of submissive bliss. Julian sagged in his chair, whimpering as his cock gave a last few pathetic spurts.

Rammia giggled, lazily rubbing herself some more atop him. “Mmm. There’s a good jester. Did you enjoy our game?”

“Y-yes,” Julian gasped.

“Yes what?” Rammia cooed, giving her ass a particularly forceful grind atop his cock.

Julian groaned. “Y-yes m-mistress,” he said.

“There we go! You’re lucky I like my jesters dumb.”

Julian felt lucky. More than that. He felt lucky and soft and delightfully tingly as he sat under the goblin’s curves.

Rammia’s eyes shone. Her smile broadened as she reached between them and teased open his pants. “Now, my silly jester, shall we play another game?”

“A-another?” Julian gasped as Rammia drew his manhood out of his pants, her fingers toying with his cock, teasing the tip and head until he’d stiffened back to full staff. “Y-yes please!”

“Good boy! This is the game we’re gonna play. It’s called The Naughty Prince! And I think you’re gonna be suuuuuper good at it.”

“O-oh?” Julian gasped. “Um, okay. How um… what do I…”

“Well, as you know, you’re my bimbo jester,” Rammia said as her hand lazily stroked his twitching cock, making Julian whimper and twitch with obedient pleasure, her other hand opening his shirt, playing along his slender abdominal. “But for this game, you’re going to pretend you’re a prince! You’ll act like a prince. Talk like a prince. And do all the fun, princely things there are.

“But at night,” Rammia breathed, leaning in closer, her golden eyes gleaming, drawing him in deeper, drowning him in molten awe as her hand stroked him to full, twitching attention. “You’re going to invite me into your room alone, and mistress will reward you for playing the part so well! We’ll have so much fun and make you cum and moan and be a good bimbo. And don’t worry about making any decisions. Mistress will tell you what to do every day! You’ll do everything she says, because you’re not really a prince. You’re my cute, dumb jester. Won’t that be fun?”

“Y-yes!” Julian gasped, his vision swimming, pulled into the goblin’s eyes as she shifted atop his lap, holding his cock, angling it towards the warm, molten heat of her pussy. “Yes! F-fun! Gonna… gonna have fun! Be good. Good game.”

“I know you will, my pretty, brainless bimbo. And here’s your prize!”

Her hips dropped, sheathing his twitching cock within her in a single go. Julian cried out, his world melting in hot ecstasy as her tight pussy stroked him, the goblin maid moaning, riding him, bouncing on his lap. Her green breasts mashed against his chest, her eyes wicked, amused, adoring as she claimed him.

“That’ssss it,” Rammia moaned as she fucked him, her cheeks glowing a deeper green of pleasure. “Oh yessss! Fuck me, jesterboy! Fuck your mistress! Ooooh! That’s iiiit! Gimme that cock! Gimme your royal dick!”

“Yesssss!” Julian moaned. His hands grabbed her hips, plunging her down atop his cock, her rump bouncing off his lap with a lewd slap. “Mistress! Love you! Love youuuuuu!”

“Of course you do! I’m your… mnnn… mistress. Now c-cum, stud. Cum for me! Cum in me!”

“Mistresss!” Julian cried. “Mistress! Yes! Yes! Oooooooh!”

He came again, an orgasm so powerful, so numbing it felt like the whole world had slipped away. As if he were pumping it into the lovely goblin maid with every needy spurt. Rammia hilted herself on his lap, her cry as intense as his, muffled as she kissed him with hard, heated passion.

Julian melted under her kiss. Her body. Strength oozed from his limbs and his mind blanked in ecstasy and pleasure.

He lay there beneath the naked goblin maid, her head against his chest, his cock still sheathed in her pussy. The busty green girl cooed, lazily tracing patterns on his chest as she soaked in the afterglow of their orgasm.

“Mmm. Julian?”

“Y-yes, m-mistress,” Julian gasped.

Rammia giggled at the love in his voice. “Hmm. I was just thinking, tomorrow, while you’re playing at prince, wouldn’t it be suuuuper fun if you invited the rest of my troupe?”

“T-troupe?” Julia breathed.

“Oh yes,” Rammia cooed, lifting her head, her golden eyes swallowing him anew, her smile teasing and adoring. “A whole band of my sisters who would just love to play with you. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Having a bunch of pretty goblin girls always around? Always there to tell you what to do? How to be a good prince bimbo? You’d love to be the personal stud of a whole bunch of pretty goblins, right?”

Julian gaped at the image conjured. A dozen goblin maids as lovely as Rammia? As perfect? He moaned as her pussy lazily tightened around his cock, reminding him of how good it felt just having Rammia to serve.

“Y-yes,” Julian moaned. “I… I’ll do it, mistress. Do it for you. Love you. Love you, mistress.”

“Aw, I know you do, stud. And I promise,” she purred, stroking his cheek, drawing his dimly smiling face down. “We’ll have so many more games to play...”

Her lips met his, and Julian moaned, his cock stiffening in the goblin again, especially as she began to once more rock her hips, riding his cock. Riding him into his chair, the bells of his crown ringing.

Jangling.

Singing with his submission.