Iris Valderia.
Born the youngest of King Aldric Valderia’s seven children—a man with a bushy beard and a steely gre who ruled the kingdom of Valderia with an iron fist.
Her arrival was greeted with trumpets and celebrations.
As the baby of the family, everyone spoiled her at first: they draped her in dresses stitched with golden thread, threw parties with cakes so tall they looked like turrets, and servants practically tripped over each other to carry her toys.
But that was just the beginning.
As the years rolled by, while her four older brothers and two sisters began shining like stars in the royal sky, Iris…
Iris faded into the background, like a candle snuffing itself out in a forgotten corner.
Her siblings were prodigies—or so everyone said.
Emily, the eldest, was hurling fireballs like dodgeballs by age five, leaving tutors sck-jawed.
Leonar, the second-born, awakened his aura at eight, splitting logs with a single sword swing to wow the king’s generals.
Even the twins, Darren and Cra, tapped into holy powers before ten, healing wounds and winning over the royal priests with their charm.
And the younger ones, Theo and Mina, excelled at strategy and politics, moving pawns on the kingdom’s chessboard like they were born for it.
And Iris?
Nothing.
No magic, no aura, not a spark of divine glow.
Zilch.
Her hands stayed as empty as her list of accomplishments.
She tried to make up for it, of course.
At twelve, she threw herself into studying politics and economics, flipping through dusty scrolls in the royal library while tutors watched her with a mix of pity and boredom.
But she was a disaster: she mixed up trade agreements with grocery lists and once suggested the kingdom “sell more cows” to fix a budget crisis.
Her brothers ughed in her face, and her sisters—especially Mina—nicknamed her “airhead” with a venomous smile that hid daggers.
“Dumb Iris” became a running joke in the castle halls, and though her parents, Aldric and Queen Livia, never said it outright, Iris had overheard their whispered disappointment behind closed doors more than once.
“Such a shame,” her mother would sigh.
“She didn’t inherit anything useful,” her father would reply, words that stung like thorns.
By the time she turned eighteen, things got worse.
Her mother showed up in her room one day with that tense look she wore when bad news was coming.
“Iris, darling, we’re going to… dey your debut in society again,” she said, fiddling with a ring on her finger.
“And marriage… well, we’ll figure that out ter.”
Iris wasn’t stupid—or so she liked to think.
She knew right away her parents didn’t want to parade her in front of the nobles.
Why bother?
She was the useless princess—no magic, no political savvy, nothing to offer but a hollow title.
Rumors swirled among the maids:
“They’ll leave her single forever,” they whispered.
“They don’t want anyone knowing how clumsy she is.”
And to top it off, her father gave her a blunt order:
“No interacting with men outside the family.”
No suitors, no guy friends—just her brothers and the king.
Iris figured they were terrified she’d fall in love and spark a scandal that’d smear the Valderia name even more.
So, back to the present: there stood Iris in her bedroom, heart pounding like a war drum, holding Kai in her hand.
It was the first time in years she’d touched a man who wasn’t family, and though this tiny guy was dressed in weird clothes—a beat-up blue jacket and tight pants that looked like they belonged in another world—his presence had her teetering on the edge of a meltdown.
Her fingers trembled slightly as she gripped him, the warmth of his little body against her skin sending her pulse into overdrive.
Biting her lower lip, Iris had no time to spin more theories about this wizard’s motives: the maids were about to barge in, and if they caught her with a man in her room, goodbye cushy life.
‘I’m not ending up a peasant!’ she screeched internally, picturing herself in a grimy shack, peeling potatoes with filthy hands and wrestling chickens for a crust of bread.
‘No, no, no! I’d rather die than live without my feather pillows and vender baths!’
The thought was so absurd she almost ughed, but panic kept her sharp.
She gred at Kai, still squirming in her grasp, and narrowed her eyes with a mix of embarrassment and resolve.
‘Whoever this wizard is, for messing with me, he deserves… this!’ she decided, and with a swift motion, she lifted her free hand and yanked open the front of her white panties.
From Kai’s perspective, it all unfolded in slow motion.
Iris’s giant fingers tugged the fabric, revealing a sight that left his jaw hanging: a wild tangle of golden curls framed a pink, glistening vagina, its plump lips shimmering faintly under the candebra’s light.
The smell hit him like a freight train—a heady mix of sweat and something… sweeter, almost overpowering.
“Hey! What the hell are you doing?” Kai yelled, filing his arms like he could somehow break free.
Iris didn’t answer.
Her face was tomato-red, hands shaking as she tried to stuff him inside.
‘The maids’ll never find him here,’ she thought, biting her lip so hard she nearly drew blood.
But it wasn’t as smooth as she’d hoped: Kai wriggled like a maniac, his kicks tickling her palm.
“Stop, stop!” he shouted, but with a frustrated grunt, she finally opened her hand and let him drop into her panties.
Kai nded with an “Oof!” right in front of Iris’s crotch.
Heat washed over him like a tidal wave, a sticky humidity that pstered his clothes to his skin.
The golden curls scraped his face, coarse and tangled, and the scent was so intense it nearly knocked him out—a blend of musk, sweat, and that mysterious sweet note he couldn’t pce.
Behind him, the panty fabric clung to his back like a damp net, probably from Iris’s nerves.
‘No way! I’m face-to-face with a woman’s vagina!’ Kai thought, eyes wide as saucers.
It was his first time seeing one up close, and the scale made it downright surreal: Iris’s vaginal lips towered almost as tall as he was, pulsing faintly with her every ragged breath.
‘This is the most screwed-up realistic dream I’ve ever had,’ he thought, still dazed by the absurdity.
He tried rolling aside to escape, but before he could budge, Iris let the panties snap shut with an estic twang.
The fabric smmed over him, pinning him against her crotch in a suffocating heatwave.
Darkness swallowed him, the golden curls jabbing his face as her warm, wet skin pressed him tight.
He could feel her racing pulse through her flesh, and every time he squirmed, it seemed to send tiny jolts through her body.
Outside, Iris yanked her nightgown down with shaky hands, smoothing the fabric like nothing was wrong.
‘I did it… I did it…’ she thought, her face burning with shame.
But just then, the door burst open.
A gray-haired maid with a stern face marched in, bowing quickly.
“Princess Iris, forgive the intrusion. I’ll accept any punishment, but we had to check your room urgently,” she said firmly, as three more maids filed in behind her, scanning every corner like hawks: under the bed, behind the curtains, even inside the wardrobe.
Iris swallowed hard, struggling to keep it together.
“I-it’s fine…” she stammered, forcing a tight smile.
But down below, Kai kept shifting, brushing her sensitive skin with every attempt to break free.
His hot breath tickled her, and an unexpected jolt of pleasure shot up her spine.
‘Oh no… it feels… good…’ she thought, squeezing her thighs together on instinct.
Every little move from Kai—a twist, a shove—made her tremble, her breath hitching as she fought to stay upright.
The maids finished their sweep and gathered by the door.
“All clear,” one of them announced, a young girl with braids.
The head maid bowed again.
“Sorry for the misunderstanding, princess. We thought… well, never mind. Do you need anything before breakfast?”
Iris opened her mouth to reply, but a gasp slipped out as Kai, trapped below, pushed harder.
Her cheeks flushed deeper, fists clenching as she bit her lip.
The maid frowned, concerned.
“Princess? Are you alright? You look… sick?”
