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