Amazing how quickly things had turned as stressful as they had. Jeremiah Gottwald was a complete wreck already, though it certainly didn’t show on the surface. He had been temporarily appointed as Viceroy until a replacement could arrive, and had barely been in the role for twenty-four hours before Cornelia herself arrived at Area Eleven to take the reins. He had learned of this fact late last night, that she was already on her way, which meant that he had absolutely no time to sleep last night. How could he sleep when a life of the Imperial family was in jeopardy and another was on the way to check on progress? He felt obliged to have <i>something</i> to report when she took over the investigation.
And he had nothing but empty hands to show for his efforts. He felt a bit of a fool standing at the head of the procession. No clue at all to where his highness could have been whisked away. Not a shred of evidence regarding the culprit. His second failure to protect royalty in an otherwise distinguished career. This would be his ruination, but that was nothing before the shame he felt.
All that was left to him now was to stand there at attention in front of the very finest that the Britannian military within Area Eleven could offer, turned out smartly as the plane arrived before them. The door opened, and Jeremiah swallowed nervously in anticipation of the hellish fate that awaited him.
Then he saw her, felt his jaw slightly unhinge and his veneer of professionalism take a quite thorough beating. There she was, Princess Cornelia. New Viceroy to Area Eleven. Striding out of a plane in what he could best describe as a battle dress. A cape flowed behind her, white outside and dark purple on the inside. That dark purple seemed to be her motif, in a way: The rest of her dress was mostly the same colour, and he had seen her Knightmare was painted the same way. She was wearing a pair of long white boots and gloves that seemed to glitter, though it was most certainly an optical illusion considering how they contrasted so much with everything else.
As for the dress itself, calling it low cut was quite the understatement. The upper portion of it appeared to be designed for one simple fact: Draw attention to Cornelia’s bosom. And what a bosom it was! He could not recall a time where he had seen a pair so large, and the very nature of this dress left so little to the imagination that his eyes felt absolutely transfixed to them. Of course, Jeremiah felt that it was rude to stare so obviously at a member of royalty’s assets, so he attempted to shift his gaze. Whereupon he met Cornelia’s condescending gaze, and his own swiftly returned to a more comfortable location. Behind him he could hear some men sigh as though lost in a dream, and before he knew it Jeremiah made the same manner of noise.
“So easily subdued,” Cornelia tutted. Her cape was shrugged off and passed to whomever was standing next to her. Probably Guilford, but checking for their identity meant looking away from the magnificent sight bouncing away. “Is it any wonder my brother was so easily captured by enemy forces? No matter. I would have given you more time to investigate on your own, but two factors made it necessary for me to visit Area Eleven immediately.”
Cornelia took a few steps down the stares and the eyes of everyone in the parade followed, their heartbeats spiking a little bit on each step as they caused the most fascinating jiggling sensations in her fantastic tits.
“To begin with, there is a chance that my brother Clovis is still alive. I will not risk the possibility of his death to anyone else if it can be helped. Secondly, my sister is within Area Eleven as well, and I would much prefer to maintain her safety.”
“Of course, your highness!” Jeremiah saluted. By this time Cornelia was standing directly in front of him, and he was becoming quite painfully aware of the erection pointing directly at her within his trousers. Quite unprofessional, but he wasn’t exactly thinking about that just now. “What are your instructions? Threaten the Eleven population in some manner? Perhaps question the Honoraries about what they know?”
Cornelia slowly shook her head, and suddenly her hand shot out to squeeze his dick through his trousers. Jeremiah couldn’t help himself. All he could do was stand there, squirming, fighting the urge to come. But it was so difficult when those breasts were <i>right there</i> and her hand seemed quite determined to make an experience that should be painful pleasurable instead.
“There’s the problem with Area Eleven right there,” she said. “You’re so cocksure that you’ll rush off and do the very first thing that comes to mind. A strategy like that could well get my brother killed, Margrave! Though we must act with speed, we must also act with care.”
She released her grip, and the proud Margrave sunk to his knees with a growing damp spot in his trousers, which suddenly felt a good deal tighter than they had a few minutes ago. Strange thing, but he almost thought that he felt a great deal heavier down there, perhaps twice as much? No doubt an illusory effect of being thoroughly groped in that manner.
Of course, she was completely correct. Running off half-cocked would only do one thing: Give the criminal barbarians an excuse to execute Prince Clovis. It would not guarantee success by any measures. He was allowing his disgust, disdain and hatred for the Elevens to cloud his judgement, but with his neck craned up to stare at the underside of the most magnificent breasts he had ever had the opportunity to behold there was also a strange sort of clarity. This was a serious matter. It should be treated that way!
“Here are your instructions,” Cornelia said. “We’re going to have a party.”
<hr>
The life of an everyday Eleven is full of misery, despair and a complete lack of hope. In that kind of environment it’s only natural that the majority would indulge in a little escapism. Many turned to Refrain, true, but most weren’t quite that self destructive. Then again one might argue that the avenue of escapism they tended towards had even worse deleterious effects on the brain. Yes, one might argue that television rotted the brain worse than a highly addictive chemical with hallucinogenic properties. If one’s brain had already rotted to a dangerous degree.
Regardless.
Tamaki flopped onto the couch in his apartment - it must be noted that the use of the word ‘apartment’ is quite generous here - and switched on his television. It was always the same after any kind of big job they did. Lie low, watch for another opportunity, build up your courage and then lash out again any way you can. Not that courage was any problem for him, no sir! The only reason he wasn’t out picking a fight with any random Britannian he encountered was rather simple: He didn’t want to miss the bullshit they’d throw out about what was really going on in Shinjuku. Typical propaganda piece, no doubt. Designed to make them look like the bad guys, make Britannia look awesome, and oh, but it was the perfect way to keep your hatred up for the enemy when you saw what lies they told about you.
<i>“This news broadcast has been interrupted for an emergency announcement.”</i>
Tamaki blinked a few times in muted surprise. He changed the channel, and it was the same everywhere he looked. Every single damned network had been hijacked by the exact same thing!
The screen was showing a beach. Real picturesque sort of scenery with the sun sparkling off the ocean, sand laid out all nice and neat. Then suddenly a bunch of chicks rushed right by the camera in a variety of bikini designs, carrying balls, buckets, spades and what have you. They set about swimming in the ocean, building sandcastles, playing volleyball and what have you.
“Ugh, what is this?” Tamaki rolled his eyes. “Dumbass perverted Britannians interrupting everything for some sorta beach party? Hey, camera guy! Maybe stop being such a horndog and stop lingering on their huge… barely covered… knockers… Come on, I ain’t watching a buncha busty Britannian bikini babes on the beach, that ain’t what I tuned in for! Get them off the air before I hurl.”
“Hello, Area Eleven!” a voice from offscreen announced. To Tamaki’s ears, it sounded arrogant. The sorta voice that looked down even on the people that looked down on the Japanese. It pissed him off, and that was even before his mind picked up on the fact that he’d called Japan by the title Britannia stamped on it as if it were an item of luggage to be claimed. Another chick stepped out, and he very nearly choked on his own spit. This new one put the others to shame, at least in terms of looking like a complete whore. Boobs that big do not occur in nature, and she quite obviously had no problems in body image. She was wearing a purple outfit, with the top comprising a pair of thick bands that went down around her shoulders, over her boobs, under her arms and presumably met up at the back. Lower half of her costume wasn’t visible.
Whoever she was, those other sluts frolicking in the beach came off like virgins by comparison. “I am Cornelia li Britannia.” Oh, well, that explained it then. “And it is my pleasure to invite you all to Clovisland Pool Resort, which I shall be personally opening to the public tomorrow at midday.”
Personally? Tomorrow at midday? Tamaki frowned a little and unconsciously moved closer to the screen. His attention was rapt, and the Princess placed her hands behind her head while the cameraman seemed to take pains to ensure that the very centre of the shot was entirely consumed by Cornelia’s breasts. “Even Elevens are welcome,” Cornelia said with a peculiar lilt to her tone of voice. “They will not be restricted or searched. I would be completely helpless, especially if the group responsible for the events in Shinjuku were to appear in person. Remember. Tomorrow at midday, I shall appear in person. For more details, visit the Clovisland website. See you there.”
Tamaki’s phone rang, and he answered it almost immediately. “Did you see that?” Ohgi asked him. “The Clovisland Pool Resort advertisement. Check out the website.”
“Yeah, yeah!” Tamaki grunted. Funny thing, he was already thinking of doing exactly that. The bunch of them had already picked up a couple laptops and some of their more techy guys had fixed things up so they had a wireless connection all set up. Not that he ever used it if he could help it. “Could hardly believe what I was seeing, buncha Britannians flaunting their goods. Completely shameless marketing plug.”
He honestly wasn’t surprised to find the picture of the Princess on the main page of the website. Same bikini as the advert, barely covering anything. It almost seemed to create the illusion that it was animated, like her breasts were just sorta jiggling around beneath the fabric that was doing a pretty poor job of keeping them covered up.
“You think we got a chance of grabbing her?” Tamaki asked. His trousers felt a bit tight, so he slid them off to the floor. “Imagine. Taking a Princess as a hostage.” He noticed there was a link off on the side that read “Learn more about Princess Cornelia.” He clicked it, and was treated to a folder of images that seemed to create a slideshow of her trying on a bunch of different outfits.
“It does seem a little suspicious,” Ohgi said. His voice sounded a little bleary, maybe a little distracted? “Especially in light of what’s been going on recently. Then again, a chance like this doesn’t come along often.”
True enough. Tamaki sniffed, but his eyes didn’t waver from the screen, which had started cycling through all of the images. The rest of the room around him sorta seemed a bit fuzzy all of a sudden, and the hand that wasn’t holding the phone suddenly took hold of his member. “Yeah,” Tamaki slurred. “Gotta grab hold of a chance like this. Gotta go for those boobs…”
“Never get a breaster chance,” Ohgi said. “I’ll… Call you back later.”
And the funny part that Tamaki didn’t even notice was the smirk on Cornelia’s face in each and every single picture in the folder. It was as though she was laughing triumphantly at the weakness of her enemies, or perhaps the certainty that she had already won without firing a shot.
- Euphemia sees the advertisement, and pouts in frustration about her sister’s antics.
- Euphemia sees the advertisement, and jumps Suzaku there and then.
- Meanwhile, orgy at the student council building!
- Cornelia’s advertisement has some unexpected side effects.
- Something else
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