("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._ `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