Henrietta de Tristain - Drabble 1 (Patreon)

So I've decided to make the Henrietta drabble a little series like the Irisiviel one, simply because there's none for her and I'd love to see some. Hopefully a little series will inspire others to do so.

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Henrietta de Traistain was in a bit of a pickle she realized. Keeping her head ducked low, the bodacious purple princess tried to keep people from looking at her face and realizing whom she was. Originally she’d drawn Saito, her dear Childhood friend Louise’s familiar into her plans and hoped he’d be able to help her, but they’d been separated in the chaos of the busy street crowds.

Borrowing Louise’s uniform might have been a bad idea, it was a conclusion she was forced to come to with all the male attention on her. Louise was both shorter and much more petite than Henrietta was she remembered, as such there were some size issues when it came to her wearing the simple white shirt and black skirt combo. For one, the sleeves looked slightly roleld up to her wrist, but more than that was the plunging neckline, for she couldn’t button up the top few buttons and it left the cleavage of her large rounded breasts in clear view, jiggling with each step she took an the light rain that left a shiny sheen on them and made the shirt slightly see through wasn’t helping at all. 

The black skirt was almost more like a belt, barely reaching the middle of her full creamy thighs, the blue lacey panties she was wearing being glimpsed at with each few steps as the skirt sqished up and down with her walking. The thin black fabric done nothing to hide the curve of her rounded rear, molded almost to a skin like degree with how it curved around her bouncy ass cheeks.

“Ah!” Henrietta gasped as somone bumped into her rather roughly. She wlmost fell, but a stong hand clasped around her wrist and kept her up. She was pulled up and had to look down slightly at the boy apologizng to her. He was a handsome young man with spiky black hair with a red fringe and tanned skin. When she  got her balance back and he looked into her eyes, his own ruby red ones widened in recogniztion.

She realized he knew her in an instant. He opened his mouth, “Princess Henriett-” she cut him off, pulling herself tight against him and on instinct kissin at the side of his lips so she could whisper in his ear;

“Quiet,” she hissed quickly, “i’m under cover at the moment, I can’t afford to be found out here.” she explained to him rapidly, paling slightly when she caught guards in the street looking towards them curiosly in the corner of her beautiful blue eyes.

His eyes lit up in understand, just as one of the guards shouted out at them, “Hey you, what’s going on there?” he dmanded.

“The name’s Jokuro,” he whispered back, swinging an arm around her shoulders and turning them around, “Don’t mind us, my fiance here was just so excited to see me since we’ve been apart the last few weeks,” the boy, Jokuro replied back to the guard and as if to make his point, his hand haning around her shoulder drooped down and took a handful of her round bosom, his palm sinking into her large breasts like a cushion.

Henrietta squeaked, turning red but did nothing to shake him off. For one he was helping her, for two it was so sudden and finally an odd thrilling tingle went down her back with the way he just grasped her breast without a moments hesitation.

The guard ushered them on, and not once did the younger boy take his hand off her breast. In fact, his other hand dropped down as they passed the guard to grasp a feel of her ass, squeezing and kneading thee bouncy rounded cheeks shamelessly.

Henrietta felt weak in the knees.