("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._
`6_ 6 ) `-. ( ).`-.__.`)
(_Y_.)' ._ ) `._ `. ``-..-'
_..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,'
(((' (((-((('' ((((
K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
_________________________________________
WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
material. If you do not wish to read this
type of literature, or you are under age,
PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
_________________________________________
Scroll down to view text
--------------------------------------------------------
This work is copyrighted to the author © 2008. Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story. All rights reserved. Thank you for your
consideration.
--------------------------------------------------------
Princess Kara: Raped for her Country
by Deadly Crystal (deadlycrystal@gmail.com)
***
Once the eldest princess had her first woman's cycle,
she must give her body up to the people to ensure the
birth of the next female heir. Once she conceived and
bore this heir, she was the rightful ruler for the rest
of her days, or until she decided to give power to her
daughter. Until then, she would be fucked day in and
day out, until one man's seed took root. (MMf, nc, rp,
inc, 1st, bd, fantasy)
***
"Now, your highness, let us progress to the bloody
annals of the Priesthood of the Haydar Water Breakers."
Princess Kara fidgeted in her seat. Lectures with Fra
Daniar were always the worst. She frankly couldn't
care less about the obsessive and apparently deadly
religious practices of the Water Breaker people in the
Eastern Kingdoms. Her own papa's North Empire was
strong enough to crush any opposing army, no matter how
many of them were willing to cut out their own tongues
for their faith (yuck) and she could see no reason in
learning about them if they didn't directly concern her
or her kingdom. It was bad enough she had to spend two
hours a day learning the regional dialects of her own
far-flung territory. Why did so much of her day seem to
consist of learning this junk?
She was so proud of her father and the kingdom they
shared. Her mom had died in childbirth when Kara was
just three. The baby, a boy, had died as well. The
event was still mourned as a day of national tragedy.
King Terab and Princess Kara were all each other had.
They were fabulously popular monarchs, at least in the
cities, and Kara always felt a bit sorry for the
empires to the South and the kingdoms of the West,
which always seemed to be going through messy
revolutions and bloody coups d'etat. One of the first
lectures Princess Kara had ever heard had been from her
father about the unbroken, millennium-long line of
proud queens from which she had descended.
Kara tried to listen to her tutor. He was one of the
only men she knew other than her father. She preferred
it that way. Men, in general, made her nervous. Once a
year Kara's nursemaid dressed her in her finest gilded
silks and she walked amongst her people. This was
always a trying ordeal. Peasants were rude. The women
frowned as they looked at her and the men always
reached out to try to touch her, commenting on her
growth over the year and wondering aloud what she
looked like without her finery. Kara had always found
this unseemly. Only after one of the craftier peasants
had managed to slip past a guard and reach his hand up
her dress had her father agreed to allow her to be
carried on a litter. King Terab wouldn't shut up their
vulgar comments, however. He said that the open
relationship between royalty and the people was the
reason for their prosperity.
Fra Daniar droned on. Princess Kara was more than bored
today, she felt a bit sick, as well. She felt an odd
ache in her legs. She almost refused to go to the board
to answer the monk's questions, but it wasn't worth the
argument. She had taken two or three steps toward the
board when she noticed a conspicuous, terrifying red
wetness soaked through the front of her skirt. "What
is-?" she barely made out, before feeling incredibly
faint. What was going on? Why was Fra Daniar hurrying
to her with such dark excitement in his eyes, and why
did his pants have that same alarming bulge she had
seen in so many townsmen's trousers?
*
Darkness. She was aware of a cool darkness, smooth
sheets, a dull pain in her bowels, and the press of her
papa's hand in hers. She tried to open her eyes, but
felt too drowsy.
"Oh, baby. Oh, my little girl. I'm so sorry! I thought
this sort of thing happened in the late teens!" What
was Daddy talking about? Was she bleeding to death?
A harsh second voice that she recognized as her
nursemaid answered her father. ""There is no set age
for this. My Jena was eighteen when she had her first
time and I was barely nine. She'll do her country
proud."
Nursemaid Myura must have heard Princess Kara stirring
because she slipped the thin gilded opium pipe back
between the young girl's lips, and changed the bloody
towel out from under her legs. Kara tried to stay awake
but slipped back into a fitful sleep.
*
The next time, it was the chanting that woke her. She
tried to sit up, and found to her horror that her
wrists and her ankles were bound to the mahogany
bedposts. Not only that, but her mouth was stuffed and
she could not speak.
At the sounds she made however, her father came once
again to her side. "My dear, tonight is the night you
give yourself as a gift to the empire."
What did this mean? Gifts were what the townsfolk left
at the gate on the occasion of her royal birthday.
Gifts were when bodyguards made up songs in her honor
and sang them at feasts.
He continued, solemnly. "Tonight, you become a symbolic
sacrifice, and earn your right to rule over your
millions of loyal followers."
Her heart was struck with horror. Sacrifice, like when
the Haydar Water Breakers ripped out their tongues and
burned them for their heathen gods? She could feel the
tears begin to leak out of her eyes, rolling down her
cheeks. When her father saw this he bit his lip a
little, and furtively pulled the gag out of her mouth.
Princess Kara gasped and burst, "Sacrifice? Are you
going to kill me, father? What have I done?" At this
the chanting stopped. Kara had almost stopped noticing
it. An old crone appeared at the princess' bedside, and
spoke to her father.
"Please do not tell me you have not informed the
princess of her sacred and holy duty."
The little princess recognized the old lady as the
Priestess Tamara, the oldest and most revered holy
woman of the capital city. She only gave worship on the
holy days, and spent the rest of the year in deep
meditation. It was stunning to see her here, and
speaking so to her father.
King Terab responded quietly. "I couldn't bring myself
to do so."
The old priestess glared and clutched her dark prayer
stick. "It cannot be changed. Know, though, that you
have done her a great disservice. It is the first new
moon after her sleep and there is little time to
explain now. Do your best in the minutes you have."
With this she crept back into her corner and resumed
her chanting, and as she did so Princess Kara became
aware of the sounds outside the castle. It was a
subdued clamor, the noise a crowd makes when it is
waiting for a great announcement. It was the sound she
heard on the mornings before the king went on his
balcony to announce a new law or tax or festival. It
was a sound that terrified her now.
She became aware of her father once more at her side,
gently pulling at the lacy ropes that bound her wrists,
loosening them a bit. "Does this feel better?" he
asked. Kara nodded, terrified, unable to voice her
questions.
"Our empire is blessed, Princess Kara. It is blessed
with fertile lands and contented peoples. Outside of
the occasional rebellion in the outlands which must be
crushed with a somewhat heavy hand, our people are
happy. They love their rulers, and they live productive
lives. Do you know why this is?"
Kara shook her head dumbly. She would have ventured a
guess, say, that it was because of the army's legendary
power, or her family's strength in rule, but she was
too bewildered by the question's timing and the fact
that her father was pulling his shirt over his head.
"It is because our empire is, at its crucial heart, a
democracy. Do you know what that means, my darling?" He
was unloosening the straps at his shoe, and pulling it
off.
"The Western Kingdoms used to be democracies," she
whispered. She had learned at least that from Fra
Daniar. Her father shook his head, slowly.
"Their form of democracy failed. The leaders failed.
Only one man or woman is truly capable of ruling, and
it works best in our form, a strong kingdom. And our
form has succeeded over the centuries not due to our
force or our luck or our will, but because we have been
blessed by the gods. In our kingdom, any man may be the
father of the next queen or king. From the mighty dukes
of the ocean cities to the penniless church beggar, any
man must love his queen and love his king because he
knows that maybe, just maybe, his seed was the one that
took root. Perhaps he or she is his child."
None of this made any sense to Princess Kara. ""I'm
just a girl, daddy. I'm not anybody's daughter but
yours, and I'm not old enough to be anybody's mother.."
Now the king had his back turned to his daughter, and
was pulling his pants off. She could see the roundness
of his naked rear end, something she hadn't glimpsed
since they used to take baths together when she was
tiny. He bent his head.
"I'm probably not your father, baby. I'm just the man
your mother decided to marry. By the time I got to your
mother it was weeks into the ceremony, and you were
already on your way. I love you just the same, though."
More tears rolled out of her Kara's eyes, and she
thought of what she might be able to say to make her
daddy let her go and play with the apothecary's
daughter, or even get her daytime clothing on and do
some homework.
She felt it difficult not to scream as she heard her
father's footsteps coming nearer to the bed. She heard
her father mutter to himself, "it's probably better
this way." She lost the opportunity to scream as she
tasted the gag once more in her mouth. She would have
done, once she felt a cool sharpness and heard the dry
clatter as her father's dagger sliced through her
nightdress and several of the pearl buttons went
bouncing away on the wooden floor.
King Terab's heart broke for her daughter as he looked
at her stretched out on the bed, naked as the day she
was born, her moonlit skin shimmering with cold sweat
and her big blue eyes darting around the room, resting
nervously at the sight of his cock, fully erect and
pointing up toward his stomach. He was ashamed. He knew
his role in the ritual, but he wasn't expecting it to
be so easy to become hard at the sight of his baby
girl.
She looked so young, her whole body hairless and
undeveloped, her breasts just whispers of a woman's
bust. If it had been his choice he would have waited
until she was ready, until she was at least 15, but the
centuries-long tradition was unbreakable. Once the
eldest princess had her first woman's cycle, she must
give her body up to the people to ensure the birth of
the next female heir. Once she conceived and bore this
heir, she was the rightful ruler for the rest of her
days, or until she decided to give power to her
daughter.
The king leaned over to brush some fair hair out of his
daughter's face and he could feel the tip of his penis
brush across the mattress. He would be gentle. This was
their tradition.
He found himself wishing he had explained everything
earlier as he crawled over his child's little body. But
how could he have expected her menarche to come before
any other signs? His own wife had been thirteen at the
time of her ceremony, and later described it as a very
painful but necessary test of the ruler-to-be. If only
she were here. She would have explained it so well.
He looked down at the small form beneath him and
lightly kissed her forehead as he had done so many
times before. He reached down and grasped his penis.
He tugged it a bit to get it harder, and guided it to
her naked pussy. At the first touch he breathed
sharply. It was so long since he had done this. He
rubbed it around the lips, trying his best to get it
wet for her with his pre-cum, wishing tradition would
allow him to at least use his saliva to moisten her to
make it easier.
It was then that Princess Kara whimpered softly. It was
that, the sound she made, so close to the sound her
mother had made when she was about to orgasm that
pushed her father over the edge. He couldn't wait any
longer, not when he had this prone body beneath him
that looked so much like his own dear queen. He located
his daughter's tiny hole, positioned his cock's head at
the entrance, and thrust inside, forgetting his
caution. He immediately became lost in the unbelievable
pleasure, lost in that suction sound he hadn't heard so
long, the sounds of Kara's pain muffled by her gag.
He closed his eyes and reveled in the feeling, the
unbelievable tightness as he pushed himself further
inside, the warmness, and he pressed his lips against
his daughter's and pushed his tongue in her mouth. It
was so like her mother's mouth, so dainty and hot,
with the subtle taste of buckwheat. He was dimly aware
of ripping through, pushing deep through the womanly
barrier he was charged with breaking, and only somewhat
sentient of yelling... the priestess yelling. He
couldn't hold it any longer, he was going to cum any
second, cum inside his precious little baby.
"Your majesty, you are not to fill the vessel; you are
only to open the channel! You must do your sacred duty,
my lord! You must not fill the vessel!" It was only
then that he remembered what he must do, what legions
of kings before him had done. He thrust deep once more,
then reluctantly slid out of his baby girl's warm hole
and clutched at his dick, beating away with his eyes
squinted, his other hand gripping his daughter's inner
thigh.
It was another one of those whimpers, of those hot baby
sounds, that finally made him cum all over his little
girl's stomach and neck. Thick streams of it landed on
her, sticky and white, and when he opened his eyes to
the sight of it he gulped, ashamed. She was covered in
it. He noted with disgust that a glob had even made it
to her face and was stuck in her hair. He turned away
from his girl, her eyes wide with horror, and dashed
off,.
The priestess calmly dabbed a white towel both in the
blood that trickled down Kara's stretched legs, and the
copious semen coating her flat belly.
With a triumphant smile she flung open the window and
thrust the cloth outward toward the crowd below.
"The princess has been opened! May the gods bless our
sacred ceremony!"
*
Nursemaid Myura had the softest hands, which you
wouldn't expect from castle help. She was so gentle in
washing her princess' body, sponging her clean, that
Kara did not wake up crying.
"What's going on, Nurse?" She noted with sadness that
her wrists were still bound, now behind her back in the
tub.
Old Myura petted her hair and rubbed some soap into it.
"You fainted is all. Not unusual. You're a woman now,
pet." She chucked Kara under the chin and smiled.
Princess Kara gulped. "How could I be a woman? Just
last week Cook boxed my ears for pouring ammonia in his
mince pies, and he said I'm nothing but a spoilt little
child." She rubbed her ear in memory of the sting.
Nursemaid Myura laughed at this. "Did he now? Cook's
been talking about how prime you are for a good fuck
for ages now, I guess that shows him for a real
pervert, calling you a child."
"He said this? He should be flogged, he should be
beaten!" Kara sat up in the water, furious. Myura
gently pushed her back down.
"None of that, love. Until you're with child, any man
of this kingdom has the right to take his way with you,
once it's his turn, so until you've given birth to a
girl and are crowned empress any man has the right to
say such things about you, and most do. Your own Uncle
Rila's been hiring child-wenches at the Yumar Temple
for ages, saying it gets him ready to really stick it
to you, get you pregnant when his number's called. I
don't know if what he's doing works, but he's already
got one of 'em with child, and she's but eleven years
old."
Somehow this did not ease the princess' worries. The
priestess had told her that the ceremony would begin at
dawn the next day, and continue until she showed signs
of being pregnant. It was a trial, but they all had
confidence in a healthy, strong girl such as herself.
Kara did not feel so confident.
*
The lottery was empire-wide, but obviously not every
man would be able to take the time away from his farm
and family to claim a number, and to stay the weeks he
may have to wait for his turn if his number was
particularly high. And then, there were always the few
who chose to abstain from the lottery for personal
reasons. This still left teeming thousands of outlander
men who had made the pilgrimage from their home towns
for this joyous occasion, the conception of their
future leader.
Merchant ships returned home mid-voyage upon news that
little Kara had become a woman so early in her life.
They never would have risked the voyage if she had been
thirteen or fourteen, but nobody had expected a girl
who had just celebrated her tenth birthday to be called
to bear the nation's child. It was no less exciting for
the novelty.
Prayers were uttered, and meticulous books were taken
as the numbers were dolled out, to be sure no rich
merchant could buy off the lottery number of some lucky
mendicant. The Yumar Temple whores were busy as they
were no other season They began to recruit old women
and young girls who had obviously just been weaned off
their mothers to pick up the slack. Temple priestesses
were eager for the ordeal to be over, for the outlander
men who did not care for their sacred vows of chastity
were all to eager to slip a cock up their holy robes
when even the youngest and eldest whores were otherwise
occupied.
With all the thousands of men waiting for their turn
with the princess, it was a point of special pride that
this time a man from the capital city was selected as
the First. Old Bosc Harga, the fishmonger's father,
fainted dead into his grandson's arms when his number
was called out from the announcer's horn. He couldn't
believe it.
Seventy years ago he had been among the very last to
fuck the princess' great-grandmother, back when he had
been a strapping lad of thirteen. He had dropped his
load rather quickly, uncomfortable at the sight of the
older girl's already swelling belly. It had been a year
of great political strife so the ceremony had gone on
longer than strictly allowed, to allow any and all
dissidents to feel that they'd had their chance to make
a new leader.
He had never had a chance with the princess'
grandmother, as he had volunteered to fight in a
foreign war.
He remembered the princess' mother with great fondness.
He had been lucky that time, too, called during the
princess' second week, when the sensation was still
somewhat new. He remembered her bright eyes, pleading
with him to be gentle with her, saying she recognized
him from the village market. He had enjoyed going
slowly with her, kneading her breasts, pinching her
pubic hair, trying to make her cum. He remembered
sucking on those growing breasts, and the taste of her
perky nipples. She did not cum, but he did. Great
gallons of it, it seemed like, potent stuff, too. He
had eight kids with his own wife and the sixteenth
grandson on the way, so it stood to reason that little
Kara he was going up to see today might very well be
his own daughter.
She was not. He knew it as soon as he was led into her
bed chamber and he saw her up close, tied up to the
bedposts, as fetching here as she always looked during
her birthday parades. No kin of his had those sad blue
eyes, that pale skin. That made it no less special. The
thought of being the first man to cum inside the little
princess made his shriveled old dick spring to life. He
had thought those balls of his were dried up and done,
but he saw those big shiny eyes and he saw that flat
naked body and he felt as virile as a stud in spring
time. He strode over to the poster bed
Kara closed her eyes and whimpered, which had much the
same effect on Bosc Harga as it had on her father. He
grunted, and shoved his stiff dick in her little
passage. Her father's work had hardly loosened her up,
and it was agonizing to have this dirty old man pumping
and shaking on top of her, making his grunting noises.
He pushed his way in and left it there for a moment,
grinding inside of her, and asked "Do you like it,
princess, do you like my cock?" She could see that he
was missing three of his front teeth. She turned away
and stared at the priestess, whose eyes were closed in
prayer.
He resumed his thrusts, quicker and quicker, and
finally came in shuttering dry spurts, squirting his
weak cum inside of her. A guard handed him his clothes
as he reluctantly slid out of her pussy. He tweaked her
little nipple as he was leaving. "Not quite as busty as
your mom was, are ya?" he joked, as he walked away.
He had been the first. Nothing would ever compare to
that feeling. Later that week he tried to recapture the
sensation by raping his youngest granddaughter, but she
had bit his cock when he tried to make her suck it
afterwards. His son never let them be alone together
after he complained about it.
From then on it was a fairly constant stream of men.
Dark men from the mountain lands of Lilac Bay muttered
prayers as they took her from behind, the traditional
position of their people. The cum of the Zora Valley
Plainesmen was incredibly thick and dark-colored, and
they always shot buckets of it, so Kara had to be
bathed after one of them visited so the next man would
not complain about the mess. She had been allowed to be
untied after one of the priestess' acolytes had awoken
to the muffled sounds of choking, as the traditional
mating technique of the red-eyed cave-dwelling Gardar
Tribes involved a deep-throated fellatio technique no
ten year-old girl could be expected to master.
It was four days into the ordeal when the castle guards
managed to bribe Priestess Nica into taking a much-
deserved break for long enough for them to take their
turns outside of the lottery system. Apparently this
sort of thing was tolerated in moderation, for Nica had
not seemed surprised as the offer. Instead, she had
happily taken their money and gone to watch a dog fight
across town. It was with trepidation that Princess Kara
saw the two men approach, and sadness when she
recognized one of them as Maliki, a kind man who wrote
her songs on her birthday.
"Which end you want first, Sade?" her old friend asked
his companion.
"Oh, I don't know, I think her mouth would be nice. I
doubt old Was Miller with his farmer cock managed to
stretch out her little mouth, did he, Kara baby?" Kara
sniffed.
Was Miller had been memorable in three aspects: his
cock had been monstrously thick, it had hurt a great
deal, and he had pulled out before he came, deciding
instead to jizz all over her pussy and asshole, rubbing
it in with a fat finger and laughing. He had spent two
days and two nights in the stocks for this stunt, but
he was widely admired for his gall. Tab Oaks, a
fisherman of Gardar stock, had compared his dick to Was
Miller's, declared it at least half-an inch thicker and
a whole inch longer, and boasted that he would fuck a
hole straight through the young girl's head.
Mothers across the city privately hoped his number
would never be called, but several bars had begun
taking bets on whether a girl could actually be fucked
dead. They would never try it on the princess, and it
was generally believed the priestesses would never let
it go that far, but Tab Oaks was lined up to try his
luck at the youngest Yumar Temple whore, a tiny girl
barely four years old. Maliki and Sade had already
bought their tickets to the show.
Sade was thinking of all this when he absent-mindedly
brushed away one of Kara's many years, and laid his
plump cock at her pouty lips. "Now, your majesty, we
have you for the whole hour, and if you're good we
won't take any longer than you need to. You could have
a whole half hour to yourself, to do whatever you want,
no supervision. Just open that mouth and suck on my
dick and it'll all be over soon."
Kara was discouraged from sucking men's dicks too much,
since it did nothing to get her pregnant, but sometimes
she had to in order to get a man hard, she knew how to
do it, more or less. She began to slurp on his red knob
when she felt herself being lifted on her knees from
behind, as her old friend Maliki positioned himself
behind her. This had never happened to her before, and
never without the priestess in the corner, watching.
She began to choke on Sade's penis as he thrust too
deeply, and he smacked her on the side of the head and
thrust deeper.
"Just open your throat and relax and this will be
easier," he said.
She could taste his sweat and his pre-cum as she felt
his cock move in and out of her lips. It would have
been so easy to just bite. She felt him pulling out a
pop, and then there it was, his penis, right in front
of her eyes. He squeezed the foreskin over the head and
rubbed it over her face. "Be nice to me, princess, and
I'll be nice to you." He smacked her cheek with his
dick, and slid it back into her mouth.
"Don't hit her, Sade." She felt Maliki's fingers push
their way into her snatch. "I used to change her
diapers. She's special." Then it was his dick at her
cunt, diving deeper like so many men this past week.
She was astonished: he was scraping against her in a
very pleasant way, in a way that almost made her forget
how uncomfortable it was to have Sade's cock gushing in
and out of her throat.
She could feel Sade begin to speed up, and she knew
what was coming. She used a free hand to cup his balls,
and rubbed at the shaft. The sooner he finished, the
sooner it was over. "Oh God! Were you doing this to her
when she was in diapers, Maliki? This royal bitch is
amazing! Oh... oh God!"
Maliki laughed, and it felt amazing. Kara felt herself
rocking in rhythm with Maliki, trying to get him to
come deeper inside of her, to keep touching on what
some men referred to as her clit, which hadn't felt
good until now. "You know what, Maliki? Maybe I should
have. She actually seems to be enjoying this! Can you
believe it? A hundred of men tap this and we're the
ones making her cum."
Sade didn't respond, because he was in seventh heaven
with this little child fondling his balls and sucking
so hot on his dick. He came like crazy, making high-
pitched noises and pulling Kara's face towards him,
disrupting her rhythm and erasing the pleasure she was
feeling from Maliki's deep thrusts. She swallowed what
she could, and was just getting back into the groove
with her old babysitter when he began to come inside of
her. He came in sudden rough thrusts, as if he wanted
to punish her body for feeling pleasure. He scraped at
her chest as he did so, and collapsed on top of her
when he finished.
"Did you like that, little muffin?" he asked her, using
their pet name since childhood. She did not answer. She
rarely spoke nowadays.
Maliki shrugged. He indicated to his friend, who looked
utterly spent. "Here, help me with her legs." Kara
looked nervous at this. "No, you're off the hook for
this one, I just want to give my sperm all the help it
needs. I want my turn to be the one that does it."
Maliki and Sade worked together to tie the girl's legs
on he second post of the bed, so that her bottom laid
almost directly beneath them. She scowled at them.
Sade laughed. "Look, I'd be happy to fuck that mouth
again if you'd prefer that. Give me ten minutes and
I'll be ready to go again." Maliki absently laid a
finger on Princess Kara's clit, making her shudder
against her will.
"What, you don't want to fuck her normally? Don't you
want your shot at knocking up royalty?"
"Aw, I just like blow jobs."
They left her there when they went downstairs, cum
drying around her lips and dribbling down her back. She
stayed like that until the priestess came home hours
later, chattering about her winnings at the fight.
*
In time the men seemed almost to blend into each other,
distinguishing themselves only in that sometimes they
would try to stick their penises in her bottom, or they
would jerk themselves off by using her thin thighs as
friction. Depending on the priestess on duty they would
either be hastily sent away, or merrily encouraged. A
boy, barely older than Kara herself, insisted that he
could only get hard if he was allowed to first rub his
small penis against the princess' soft hair. He ended
up cumming near her ear, and a thoroughly disgusted
guard marched him out.
An older, dusky-skinned man had briskly plucked her out
of bed and sat her down on his meaty cock, ignoring the
resistance in her still-tight anus, sending jolts of
searing pain into her as he hummed to himself. He
bounced her up and down, his strong arms lifting and
dropping her as easily as if she had been made of
feathers. He came quickly enough, squeezing on her
arms as he did so. He grunted for emphasis several
times, and finally plucked the girl up off of his dick
as easily as he had put her there. Kara felt like
someone had stuck squeezed a turkey baster up her
bottom and shot boiling-hot gravy inside. It hurt like
crazy.
"Enough of that, now, entertaining as it was. Plant
your seed where it may grow and be gone, sir."
Priestess Valar smiled at the man, and nodded at him to
continue.
He grinned in response, and responded with an accent so
strong it was difficult to understand. "Oh, no, I'm
done here," he leered. "Never did want to be a father.
If you want to let me have another go at her bum I'd be
much obliged, though." Priestess Valar seemed to
consider it for a moment, but then shook her head.
"I don't think she could handle much more of that, sir.
Look at the girl." Indeed, Princess Kara was curled in
a ball on the bed, her shoulders shaking. Cum was
dribbling out of her, mixing with the semen from
earlier that hour. The older man laughed.
"Ach, she'll be fine. I've nieces and nephews of my own
village, and they reacted the same the first time. The
second time's always easier." He winked. With this,
his wilted shaft perked up a bit again. But it was too
late, the guards were already escorting him out.
*
It was to great celebration and religious fervor that
the announcement was made: the princess had skipped her
second period. Townsfolk and outlanders alike whispered
that the gods must truly favor their princess to get
her with child so soon, and at such a young age, too.
Just to be sure, the ceremony continued, perhaps with
even greater enthusiasm. The princess was given some
time off, however, which she spent wandering the castle
in a daze.
She greatly missed her papa, but could not find her
among the twisting halls of the estate. She caught a
glimpse of the cook carrying piles of hot plates. She
did not know how he did it while carrying all that
food, but he managed to balance everything and make a
lewd gesture at her as well, fondling his manhood over
his trousers. "My number's almost up, your highness.
I've got some tasty meat right here for you."
Princess Kara walked away from him without saying a
word. She took her meals in her rooms, often in between
men cumming inside of her. Often meat pies and sherbet
deserts would be flavored with the taste of the
empire's various races of men, several of which
insisted on the privilege of fucking her mouth as well
as her more sacred hole. Kara found it disgusting, but
had given up protest.
Fra Daniar's turn was as boring as his lectures. He
climbed on top of her, pushed inside, and emptied his
balls without ceremony. He had the decency to say
"Thank you" as he left, and Princess Kara mentally
resigned herself to keeping him as a tutor after the
ordeal in gratitude. The princess was grateful that
Priestess Tamara's spell declared her unequivocally
pregnant a week later, and she was relieved to bed rest
for the duration. Cook's number had indeed been close,
and Kara wanted nothing less than to accept his fat
penis inside of her.
It was a personal tragedy to the princess when, after
months of patient waiting, she gave birth to a
beautiful, pale-haired boy. He looked up at his mother
with her own wide, lovely eyes and she felt sick to her
stomach. This child would not do. A girl needed to be
born to continue the succession. Princess Kara gave in
to her tears as the boy was whisked off to a wet nurse.
Of course he was important; he was royal, but most of
the castle's staff ached for the girl's bad fortune.
Nursemaid Myura sighed sadly as she helped the midwife
stitch up the child's bleeding snatch.
*
It was some months later when the ceremony began again.
Some men simply never left the capital city, especially
those who knew their number would be called soon and
for whom it was not worth the trek home just to turn
around again. Princess Kara requested that a language
specialist be brought in along with the priestesses to
help continue her education in the months that
followed. She privately hoped that Mrs. Penna, as her
teacher was called, would also discourage the bolder
men from being too creative with her body.
Obviously, the ceremony started differently this time.
There was no ritual opening of the vessel, no gleeful
anticipation of the first lottery winner. There was
just a knock on the door, and the relentless chanting
of the old priestess.
A guard went to open the door, and Princess Kara was
shocked to see her father standing there, stark naked,
no mistaking his massive erection. She had not seen him
since that night over a year ago. He had not even been
there for the birth of her son.
"What are you doing here, Father?" She sat up in bed,
and pulled a sheet around herself. She still felt
inexplicably modest around her papa. "I think we can
agree my vessel has been suitably opened."
King Terab grinned. His daughter looked even more like
her mother now, with those tiny budding breasts and
gentle birth plumpness. Her pussy even showed the
lightest of downy hair. He stepped toward her with
purpose.
"I know, baby. This time I had to enter the lottery
like everyone else." And with no further commentary,
the king fucked his little girl senseless.
Epilogue
When Princess Kara's baby girl was born, spontaneous
festivals broke out around the empire. Temples were
rededicated to the new Empress, as Kara was soon
crowned, and when news broke out that the baby girl was
to be named Daris, the name quickly rose to be the
number one name for infants, girls as well as boys.
Whispered arguments soon spread through the capital
city as to who the girl most looked like. General
consensus was that it looked nothing like Kara's
father, and baby's jet black eyes discounted her sired
from anyone else within the girl's immediate family.
Princess Kara quietly suspected Maliki, who had visited
and raped his princess far more often than should have
been permitted.
He had nearly smothered Kara when she had started to
scream that she wouldn't have him this time, that he
had had his turn. This had infuriated her former
babysitter, and as Kara was gasping for breath she
could feel him thrust angrily inside her, bumping
against her cervix with his dripping cock as he bit
into her neck. He had stayed inside her long, limp,
even after he came, long and in hot spurts. He
whispered dark suggestions into her ear.
No one protested when she had him executed the day
after her (and quite probably his) daughter was born.
It certainly wasn't the cook's baby. Despite his grand
suggestions, Cook had not been able to grow erect. Even
the princess' half-hearted oral attentions were met
with only the barest reaction. He had shuffled out,
shame-faced, squinting his eyes angrily as Mrs. Penna
called out that perhaps kitchen boys were not the best
preparation for getting their sovereign with child.
No matter the gossip, the important fact was that it
was the people's daughter. The North Empire was once
again looked upon with shining favor, as the hundreds-
year old dynasty was assured once again. Empress Kara,
being motherless, was one of the youngest rulers ever
crowned. Her power was absolute. At first the people
feared her, since her first decrees were the beheading
of one of the palace guards and the castration of her
own father. But they soon saw her as the kind ruler she
turned out to be, a warm and affectionate mother, and a
wise politician. She never married, and was extremely
happy when her own daughter turned out to be a very
late bloomer.
The End
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 61