The New Minister [Fantasy] [MFF]

Lauren sits at her desk, pretending to herself that she’s being productive. She’s going through old email — sifting through seemingly endless newsletters and event announcements sent from citizens’ groups in her constituency. She deletes most of them unread. She’s really just killing time waiting for a call, and when it does come she picks up the phone after the first ring.

“Hello, this is Lauren McKelvie.”

“Hello, Lauren, it’s Judy Thompson. I have a lot of calls to make, so let me get to it: will you join my cabinet as Minister of Transport and Infrastructure?”

“Yes, of course, Prime Minister. Thank you, I won’t let you down.”

“Great. I’m sure you won’t. Olivia is on the line and will make arrangements. Thanks, Lauren, I’m looking forward to having you on the team.”

Lauren hears a click, and then another voice. “Hello, Ms. McKelvie, I’m Olivia Seymour. I’m an assistant here in the Privy Council Office, and I’ll guide you through the ministerial appointment process.”

“Thank you, Olivia.”

“Sure. First, we have to get you a service audience with the king, which will make you a Privy Counsellor and eligible for a ministry. Then on Tuesday at 11 we’ll bring you to the ceremony where you’ll be sworn in with the other ministers. After that you can start work with the principal private secretary of your department.”

“Uh, okay. Tuesday? I’m supposed to go home to my constituency first thing tomorrow morning, and I don’t get back till late Monday.”

“Oh, well, that might be difficult, um, but I don’t want to make you change your trip if we don’t have to. Let me talk with the chamberlain’s office and see what we can do.” Olivia hangs up.

Lauren’s not too worried about canceling office hours back home if she has to. She can’t help but grin. She had been pretty sure Judy would give her *something* — Lauren had been one of just a few who had supported her for Prime Minister four years ago, and Lauren had worked hard to pass Judy’s railway legislation when Judy was transport minister. With losses and retirements Lauren was well placed to take on a cabinet portfolio. But she had prepared herself, as a new member of the cabinet, for one of the less prestigious posts —culture, or perhaps agriculture or families and youth.

Transport might not be a premium spot like defense or foreign affairs, but it’s very good for a first-time minister. It gets a lot of attention in the news and provides a good platform for getting one’s name out to the public, through ribbon-cutting and groundbreaking ceremonies. And if Judy had successfully moved from Transport Minister to Prime Minister, maybe someday…

Lauren has just a few moments to relish her good fortune before Olivia calls back. “Ms. McKelvie, are you in Parliament House? if you can get to the palace in ten minutes, we can avoid moving your trip.”

“Ok — ten minutes? I’ll be right there.”

“Thank you, Ms. McKelvie. Call me back when you’re done with your audience.”

Lauren hangs up and walks briskly out of Parliament House across Dominion Park to the Royal Palace.

At the palace, an older woman in a black shirt and pants is waiting for her. “Ms. McKelvie, I’m Sophie Shaw, with the Royal Chamberlain’s Office. Thank you for coming over now; this is one of the only openings in the king’s schedule. Let me take you to the audience chamber.” She leads Lauren through the palace into what is clearly the changing room of the audience chamber, with a clothes closet and a small washroom. “I’m afraid I don’t have time to give you the full protocol briefing, but I’m sure they’ll get you through it. It starts off pretty much like citizen service, except that your initial line is different. The king says “Declare yourself,” and then your line is ‘Greetings, Your Majesty. I am Lauren McKelvie, member of the House of Representatives for Louisia-Kibblewhite, here at your summons. How may I serve you?’ Can you repeat that?”

Lauren does, with a few missteps. Ms. Shaw says, “That’s fine, you’re getting the point across. Call him Your Majesty, give proper respect to his position, and you’ll be fine.” She checks her watch. “The king’s scheduled to be in the chamber in ten minutes, so you’d better get changed.” Ms. Shaw leaves.

Lauren removes her pantsuit and underwear, puts on a sheer service robe from the closet, and walks into the audience chamber. To her it seems like a cross between a high-end hotel room and a service crib. It has a very high ceiling, with a large chandelier hanging down. Beneath that is a large bed made up with a duvet and pillows, with nightstands on either side. On her left she sees openings to a washroom, with soaking tub and separate shower. But the room also has a kneeling stool, a chair with a seat raised high off the ground, and a number of couches around the edges of the room.

As she is used to doing in the cribs, she kneels on the stool in the center of the room, facing the opposite door, making sure her robe doesn’t get caught underneath her. But she doesn’t have time to wait before she hears an unexpected voice from above and behind her. “Hi, you must be Lauren. I’m Caitlin.”

Lauren twists her body but can’t turn around enough to see in the kneeling position. “Wha—?” She nudges the stool around so she can see. Behind where she came in, above the changing room, there is a loft, and.leaning on the railing looking down on her is a nude woman. She is in her mid-twenties, with light skin and long blond hair; she is thin but has prominent, rounded breasts.

Lauren tries not to stare. “Um, I didn’t realize anybody else would be here.”

“Oh, I thought Sophie would have told you. I’m with the Service Office. When the king gets here I’ll be taking your portrait.”

“My portrait? with the king? But I thought I was here to provide service… and I’m not dressed…”

“Didn’t Sophie brief you at all?”

“No, she didn’t have time. What’s going on?”

Caitlin descends a narrow staircase that leads down from the loft, and kneels on the ground, putting herself on Lauren’s level. “All ministers have an official portrait taken. You must have seen the old ones, from back before Sexual Equity, the portraits of ministers that line the halls in Parliament House and the Executive Buildings? Well—”

At that point, the door opens and the king walks in. The women instinctively fall silent. Lauren has of course seen him from afar on state occasions, and in photos and on television many times, but she is still struck by him — he is tall and looks distinguished in his mid-fifties, with salt-and-pepper hair and an athletic build. He is wearing a spa wrap around his lower torso, of black silk shot through with gold thread.

“Declare yourselves,” says the king.

Lauren says, “Um, greetings, Your Majesty. I am Lauren McKelvie, member of Parliament for Louisia-Kibblewhite. How may I serve you?”

Caitlin says only “Greetings, Your Majesty.”

“Ah, Lauren. Please stand, and hang up your robe.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Lauren rises, and seeing a hook on the wall next to the door where she came in, puts the robe there. She then turns back and stands before the king, nude, head lowered.

The king reaches out with his right hand, strokes her face, then slides the hand down to her right breast, holding it lightly with his fingers while circling her nipple with his thumb. “So, Judy is putting you in charge of transport and infrastructure. What’s your take on the Ring Motorway?”

“Um, Your Majesty, I don’t think I should be talking about government…”

Caitlin, still kneeling, says, “If I may, Your Majesty, there wasn’t time to give Lauren a proper briefing. Lauren, that rule is for citizen service — It doesn’t apply in here. Just go with what’s happening — I’ll tell you all about everything afterwards, okay?”

During this, the king has taken a step to his left, moving himself very close to Lauren’s right side. His right hand moves down from her right breast, strokes her belly and mound, and then back up to her left breast. He keeps circling that nipple with his thumb as he moves his left hand to stroke Lauren’s backside, moving up to her back before down again to cup her buttock.

Lauren is having a hard time concentrating on transport policy. “Um, okay, I’m sorry, Your Majesty… um, I haven’t generally supported proposals to increase motorway lanes, ah, even aside from the environmental concerns, upgrading the Loop Railway to high-speed rail is, um, is a more effective way of moving large numbers of people more quickly, and improving port facilities in the provinces is, mmm, is a better way to help with freight.”

The king smiles slyly.. “You don’t think traffic will continue to get worse?”

“Oh-oh, no, Your Majesty, adding more lanes will just encourage… encourage…” Lauren loses her focus entirely as the king moves his hand down to her cleft and moves a finger through it. “ooh… Um, encourage more driving,” she manages to finish.

“Thank you, Lauren,” says the king, his smile getting just a little broader. “I think it’s time to move to the back.” He withdraws his hands, takes her arm and guides her over to a high armless sofa in the back of the room, on the wall between the door to the changing room and the stairs to the loft.

Lauren lies on her back on the sofa. The king stands beside her, his right fingers alternately running through her labia and teasing her clitoris. He reaches down to his penis with the other hand. “Cait, I think Lauren’s ready, but I will need some assistance.”

Caitlin says “Of course, Your Majesty,” Caitlin rises and comes over to the king. She removes his wrap and hangs it on a hook next to Lauren’s robe, and then bends down and takes his penis in her mouth. Lauren looks down at them as Caitlin stimulates him with her lips and tongue.

The king gives an “Mmm” sound but then, as Caitlin continues stimulating him, says “Lauren, you’ll also be responsible for electric and water infrastructure. Do you think Osborne Dam should be raised?” On the final word he inserts a finger into her vagina and begins stroking her inner walls.

Lauren finds this a bit much and lies her head back and closes her eyes. She repeats the answer she gave during the campaign to this question. “Your Majesty, fresh water is hard to come by on our island —ah—and, um, raising the dam gives us an opportunity to store water and generate, mmm, carbon-free energy at the same time. So I think it ought to be studied, to see if the impacts can be mitigated.” She feels a hand on her breast, lightly rubbing her nipple: she opens her eyes and is surprised to find it is not the king’s, but Caitlin’s.

“Mmm, I see,” says the king. He is silent for a few moments, but eventually he says “Thank you, Cait. I think you can go upstairs now.”

Caitlin removes herself from him, says “My pleasure, Your Majesty,” and heads up the stairs to the loft.

With that, the king is finally ready. Lauren spreads her legs and the king moves forward and enters her, her lying on the sofa, he standing in front of her, between her legs. Lauren looks at him and moans softly as he slowly moves in and out.

“Okay, Lauren, that’s great, just look up here and smile.” Lauren looks up to see Caitlin in the loft, positioning herself forward over the railing, holding a camera pointed down at her. Without thinking Lauren looks at the camera and gives her best photo smile, the one she’s done over and over, having her picture taken for campaign literature and with constituents. “Ok, Lauren, can you just hold your knees a little higher, please? Use your hands if it helps.” Lauren pulls her knees up with her hands. “Your Majesty, keep fucking her, please. Lauren, that’s good, but keep them spread more so we can see.” Lauren does and hears Caitlin take a photo. “That’s great, just let me just get one or two more,” says Caitlin. “Back just a little bit, Your Majesty,” she says, and the king begins pulling out a bit further between thrusts. “That’s great, just perfect. I’ve got it. Please go ahead, Your Majesty..”

The king says “Thank you, Cait,” and then begins thrusting faster. As Lauren lets go of her knees, the king grabs her legs and pulls himself closer, changing the angle of his thrust slightly. “Touch yourself, Lauren,” he says, and Lauren begins rubbing her clitoris with one hand and a nipple with the other. The king continues to thrust; Lauren can feel her breasts bounce until finally he reaches climax inside her.

He withdraws and sits on the side of the sofa. After a moment, Lauren gets off the sofa and gets on her knees before him. She says, “Is there any other way I can serve you, Your Majesty?”

The king, says “No, thank you, Lauren. You’ll have to excuse me – I have to receive the new Mexican ambassador tonight and I need to get ready.”

“Of course, Your Majesty. Thank you for the opportunity to serve.”

The king takes his wrap from the hook, puts it around himself, and walks out the door from which he’d come.

Lauren pauses. The king had climaxed, but she hadn’t. She says, “Um, Caitlin – usually after service I need a moment…”

Caitlin says, “Sure, go right ahead. Do you want me to help? Or if you’d rather use a toy, they’re in the nightstand by the bed.”

“Uh, well…” Lauren realizes she can’t really ask Caitlin to leave. “I guess I’ll get something from the drawer.” Lauren goes over to the nightstand, finds a bullet vibrator, and comes back to the sofa. She lies back, closes her eyes and uses the vibrator on her clitoris; before long, she has an orgasm. She opens her eyes to find Caitlin staring down at her from the loft.

“I hope you don’t mind; I like to watch. That’s why I took this job in the first place,” says Caitlin. “Plus, I’m the only one who gets to see all the portraits.”

“Right. The photos. What’s the deal with the photos?”

“So, like I said, there used to be portraits hung of all the ministers outside their offices. Well, portraiture is a matter of honor and dignity, and after Sexual Equity came in, it was decided that since for women honor comes from providing service, portraits would be inappropriate unless they showed the act of service. We hang them in the waiting rooms of the cribs nearest the office of that minister.”

“The waiting rooms we’re not allowed into.”

“Right. Only men waiting to receive service can go in, other than Service Office staff – the cleaning and security staff of course have to be able to go in, and me, since I make the portraits and decide how to hang them. But nobody else. You’re allowed to see your own, of course, and the king is, since he’s in it, sort of. Do you want to choose your official portrait?”

Lauren does, and Caitlin comes down the stairs with the camera. Lauren sits up, and Caitlin sits next to her on the sofa, showing her three the photos on the camera’s display. “We’ll crop out all of the king except just his cock – it’s just you, plus just enough of him to show what’s happening. I think your smile is best in this one.”

“And every minister has a picture like this?”

“Sure. Every minister has to be a member of the Privy Council, and you get to be a Privy Counsellor by providing service to the king, so we almost always take the photos as that happens. Even if somebody’s already on the Privy Council before she becomes a minister, the easiest way to get a portrait is for her to come provide service to the king again. Every once in a while someone like that has a portrait done with a duke, or a citizen volunteer, but that’s rare. You can’t really tell who the men are, but since it’s an official portrait, it does have to be during an official act of state service, not just a random fucking.”

“Okay. I guess that one with the smile is fine. I’ve never seen a photo of myself fucking before. I didn’t know about this. I knew I’d have to provide royal service to be a minister, but not about the photo, and it all came so fast.”

“Well, yeah. But the way it was explained to me is like this. In Sexual Equity, only women can run government, right? But in return, only men get to decide things about honor and symbolism. They keep all that mostly to themselves — they’re the ones who are kings and knights and lords and members of the umpteen Most Noble Orders of whatchamacallits. They gave up power and that’s what they got.

“The downside for women is that women don’t get to choose what we’re honored for. We might want to be honored for what we did in school or in government or whatever. But men decided that what they want to honor us for is mostly the state service we perform. So you used to be the Honorable because you’d performed state service, and now you get to be the Right Honorable, because you’ve provided service to the king and are now a Privy Counsellor. The portraits are just part of that. Men get to decide what we’re honored for, and the portraits are just one kind of honor.

“And you know, it’s not a bad thing to be honored for serving others, for giving generously of yourself for someone else. The king is a man, but he represents the whole country, and by providing service to him you’re really serving the whole country, right? So that’s something you’ve given back. You might not think it’s the most significant thing you’ve done, but that doesn’t mean somebody else can’t think it’s important. So take your recognition where you can get it. And in the meantime, you’re the one who gets to decide about the Ring Motorway or whatever dam, not some man.”

“Okay… that helps. Thanks. I am glad to serve others by bringing them pleasure, I just didn’t know about this.”

“Yes. Usually women are briefed before I see them — Sophie volunteers to show her own photo as an example, which makes it easier for most women to get used to it. But I still have to be here and be the one taking the photo.”

“And help out… I guess you must serve the king a lot in this job? I haven’t had anybody er, fluff someone like that before.”

“Yeah. I didn’t used to need to do that, until the last year or so. I guess I can tell you, now you’re a Privy Counsellor… I’ve gotten good at knowing what works best with him, so I can get him hard, but it doesn’t happen easily anymore. As far as I know the only time he’s doing audiences is when he has to, and that’s when I’m there. And I never see him come down to the seraglio anymore…”

“You live here?”

“Yeah, I’ve always lived here, but I only moved from the family side to the seraglio after I got this job and had a service obligation.”

“Family side? Oh! *Princess Caitlin*. I’m so sorry, Your Royal Highness, I didn’t recognize you, I didn’t mean to–”

“Lauren, it’s fine. Call me just Caitlin. Outside I’m a princess, but in here I’m another woman giving service, just like you, so here we just use first names with each other. OK? Most of the time my princessitude doesn’t even come up when I’m working.”

“Sure. Caitlin. Thank you. I’m just a little starstruck, I guess. I used to wonder what it was like, to be a princess.”

“Yeah, I get that a lot. Honestly, being a princess doesn’t really mean that much, most of the time. King Kevin was my dad, so I get a fancy title and all, and I have a guaranteed place to live in the family quarters for life, which sounds great until you realize it’s basically public housing with better carpets, which is why only a few people actually stay there. And I was my dad’s first kid, and so most people know who I am. But you know, I have like fifty half brothers and sisters, and we all get to be called ‘Your Royal Highness’, and that’s pretty much all we get. If I didn’t have a job and lived in family quarters I’d be on the dole like anyone – I’d get room and board here but not a penny for clothes or toiletries or anything else. My life is not exactly ‘The Princess Diaries.’”

“Caitlin, I’m so sorry, I didn’t understand that, especially when I was a kid.”

“No, I get it. And the truth is, if I weren’t a princess, I probably wouldn’t have gotten set up for the job I have now, or gotten to live in the seraglio. And I’m really lucky — my job is basically to take pictures of people fucking, which for me anyway is a big turn-on. And I have a service obligation, but lots of guys are pretty excited to get it on with a princess, and it’s nice to be wanted like that. So it’s a good life. At least for now… But what I was saying was, when the Privy Council meets in October, I’m going to have to propose electing a Crown Prince to take over Jeremy’s audiences, and I don’t know how Jeremy’s going to take it. Jeremy’s more than just the king to me — he was Crown Prince when my mom died and my dad was sick, and he took a lot of time back hen helping me through it. I don’t want to hurt him, and I don’t really want to have to figure out how to be the portraitist with someone else, and maybe live in the seraglio with someone else, or move back to family quarters. But Jeremy’s not being a good king right now.”

“Caitlin, I think you have to talk to him.”

“Sure. ‘Hey Jeremy, now that you’re impotent I think that you should quit!’”

“Obviously, not like that. But I think you can tell him you’ve noticed the trouble he’s been having, and ask if he’s thought about doing something else.”

“Yeah. I guess. I thought… I actually thought about asking him to marry me, which would give him a way to abdicate without looking bad. But there wouldn’t be any point in marrying if we weren’t going to be exclusive, and… I love Jeremy, kind of, he’s been very kind to me and I enjoy fucking him, or I used to. But I I don’t want to quit my job and be just with him forever, especially if he can’t…”

“No, that doesn’t seem like a good solution. Anybody marrying him would have no sex life, it sounds like. But I think you need to talk with him, and then you need to talk with the President of the Council, and the Selection Committee.”

“I’m actually on the Selection Committee — everybody agreed the committee needed to be made up of women willing to make sure the candidates could hack it physically, and that sounded like fun, and mostly it has been. If you ever have a chance with the Duke of Helenia, don’t turn it down. Mmmm. Anyway, yeah that’s how I was going to bring it up in October.”

“Oh, okay. If there’s any way I can help, Caitlin, I’m happy to do that. I can tell them about what happened.”

“Thanks, Lauren.”

“Listen, Caitlin… if you ever want to just talk about stuff… you can reach out to me, okay? I don’t know if you have other people to talk to but you have me.”

Caitlin breathes out slowly, and looks over at Lauren with a grateful expression. “Thanks. I have a few friends I can talk to, but I can always use another.”

“Me too.” Lauren reaches over to hug Caitlin; she’s just a bit uncomfortable as their bare breasts squeeze against each other. “I have to get back to my office and get ready to go back to Louisia tomorrow. Thanks for everything, Caitlin.” Lauren gets up, takes her robe from its hook and starts to go through the door to the changing room. “Just one thing — let me know when my portrait is up, okay? I want to hear what men think about it.” Caitlin laughs, and says “Sure.”

Lauren goes out, turning her mind to calling Olivia back and starting her new job.

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/f6440k/the_new_minister_fantasy_mff