All three of my holes were full now, full entirely of the cocks of these men I had known my whole life. I could barely do anything—I was just a vessel for their cocks, an entrance to all of them. Completely dehumanized and objectified. I loved it. This was what a slave was meant to do. Hurrain and Harrell slid up next to me and I wrapped my hands around their thick, hard cocks, stroking as hard as I could. It was hard to breath with Dr. Jarvis's cock stuffing into my mouth so strongly. Sometimes the other three men fucked me so hard that I forgot where I was, and my hands only kept stroking on the step-brothers’ cocks by the force of the fucking that I was under.
My mouth slid over loosely the hardened knob of Dr. Jarvis. He had administered medicine to me when I was very young; gave me my first flu shot. Now, the cock of my old doctor was driving my mouth up his shaft. I moaned, hoping to coax hot, fresh precum down my throat.
It worked. In fact, it worked for all of them. They all wanted to cum. I could feel their precum sliding over my hands, into my cunt, my asshole, from all five men. They were all so fucking turned on, and just for me. Out of the corner of my eye, past the seeming forest of manflesh and cocks that surrounded me, I saw Diane obediently fingering her cunt as she watched.
“Fuck,” said Dr. Jarvis. “I can’t hold out. Are we cumming together?”
“Just go whenever,” grunted Bryant, on the bottom of the pile. “I can’t hold out either, and—oh, f-fuck!”
Just like that, he started to cum up my asshole. It was so thick, so warm, so potent and good. Not as hot as my Daddy's cum, but still, it was absolutely perfect. The rest soon followed his actions, unloading like he did. When I felt the first wave of cum, I orgasmed immediately, like an obedient slave, and this must have only excited the other men.
Hurrain and Harrell sprayed all over my tits. Dr. Jarvis seemed content for a moment to shove his spasming cock down my throat further, but then he decided to pull out and spray all over my tits as well, mixing his cum with that of the other two men. It was so hot, so perfect to have my tiny young body slathered in their seed.
But best of all was when Daddy came, finally he came! Right inside my pussy, my slavecunt, my babymaking womb. It was just for him—made just for him.
There was no protection. He came into me knowing full well how fertile I was, how perfectly capable I was of getting pregnant from any load inside of my cunt.
For a moment, everyone just breathed hard, looking at the cum-covered angel they had before them. I swallowed for several moments, trying to take down all of Dr. Jarvis’s cum.
“Thank you, Sirs,” I breathed, grinning. “Thank you for letting me serve you.”
* * * * *
They fucked me all day long—through the rest of the games. I was much more entertaining than anything at the Colosseum When they tired of me, they fucked Diane, and she screamed like a siren for them; just for them.
But only my Daddy fucked my cunt. He wanted to be the one to get me pregnant. He wanted to be sure it was his baby inside me.
Now, it's some time later, and Daddy can be absolutely sure of what he's accomplished. Both Diane and I have big, thick baby bumps now. Being a slave is so very good. We want this life for anyone, even those closest to us. My Daddy never doubts me anymore, and I never doubt myself either. I serve him and love him with all my heart.
Diane and I both love to serve our Daddy.
# # #
Sold! Property of the Taboo Princes
I was ready.
I knelt, bound, before my two dark-skinned princes. They would have me. The two imperial brothers, so perfectly muscular and handsome, would do whatever they wanted with me in this opulent palace bedroom.
And I would welcome every last, dirty, deviant act that they could dream of. My limbs bound with thick, soft ropes. My tightly toned ass desperate to be spanked with the crop I had given them. My entire lusciously curved body ached for their manhood, their princehood, to fill my needy holes.
I was ready...
* * * * *
I saw it first, like you would see anything in a helicopter, from a distance. Even from far away, it was a gleaming white mountain of luxury shining out to the heavens. My heart caught in my throat, and I struggled to maintain my composure.
There. There would be my new home.
It would be understatement to say that I was adequately prepared for the opulence of the Palace Imperial. The majestic structure was home to the entire upper echelon of society in Bande, capital of Imperial Hundret.
Normally, the trip to the fifteenth level of the Palace Imperial was a process that could take individuals their entire lifetimes, never once earning the right to step foot inside the most sacred level of imperial privilege. I, a slave from Talnesha, arrived straight at the top on my first visit there, and all thanks to the Guild of Service.
The small helicopter I traveled in set down slow and steady. When we touched the ground, it was as smooth a landing as any could have been.
I was dressed simply—my lithe, toned form covered in a slight wine-colored gown with a scooping neckline went out of its way to enhance the swell of my already substantial breasts. My hair, pure Talneshan brown, but braided in the Imperial Hundret style, dangled down to nearly my waistline.
When I stepped out from the helicopter, I was greeted by a small, thin Hundret woman with dark brown skin and a gorgeously arranged curly hair. The day outside was a little windy, but only just, and the flowers arranged on her business suit waved slightly as she approached. The helipad we landed on was above a large series of apartments, all featuring with the white marble pillars and arches of the Hundret style. I could see satellite dishes and antennae on some of the roofs. Bordering the helipad were thick rosebushes, their red flowers apparently quite sturdy to stand up to the whipping winds conjured up by the landing helicopter.
The woman held out a hand to greet me. Immediately, I knelt and kissed it.
Being taller than her, with longer legs and considerably higher-heeled shoes on my feet, no doubt she saw it as something of an erotic gesture. As I had no idea who she might be—even my new owner, possibly—I very much wanted to leave the potential of my eroticism available to her. That was what I had been trained for, after all.
“Welcome to the Palace Imperial, Francesca,” she said, voice as smooth as silk. “We’ve been anticipating your arrival highly.”
“Thank you, Madam,” I said. These were the first words I had spoken in my new service, and I thought them good enough. “You are very kind to meet me here.”
“Madam, is it?” she laughed. “I’ll take it, though my name is Margot. Stand, please. We’ve arranged a suite for you at the other end of the Palace.”
I followed her through the large arches at the end of the helipad, and right away we entered a long hallway full of mirrors and portraits of Emperors past. To my pleasure, I recognized many of them; my extra efforts toward my education of their culture had paid off.
The Palace Imperial, as it was called, was built on top of a large hill in the middle of the Imperial capital, Bande. The walls of Bande had stood in place for nearly a thousand years, never giving way to any intruder nor insurrection. Even in the past century, with the advent of air power and artillery fire and all manner of immense bombs, Bande had remained unscathed.
As such, so had the Palace Imperial and its fifteen levels. Each level stood on top of the last in a sort of long, gigantic staircase, with the bottom level being the widest and longest. Every step, except for the top, featured two sections, equally divided. Half of the level was open to the air above, and the other half—falling beneath the “step” of the level above it—was underground. The underground workers were largely menial or utilitarian—butchers, janitors, handymen, electricians, grocers. Anything and anyone who kept the Imperial Capital running. The outside levels, on the other hand, renowned for their beautiful gardens, opulent water fountains, and spectacular views of the river and mountains just beyond the city’s limits, were reserved entire
ly for people of “status.” Dignitaries, ambassadors, lobbyists, bankers, visiting royalty and the like all made their homes there.
In this way, it was easy to discover what a person’s social standing was just by asking them where they lived. The fifteenth level underground (or “in step,” as it was known), for example, gave a person a higher status than the first level in step, but a lower status than the first level outside, or “out of step.”
The Palace Imperial was an immense building, built over a period of hundreds of years by thousands of laborers. Some freemen, some indentured, some outright slaves such as myself—though of course, not processed like myself. That sort of slavery—for labor—had long ago been outlawed in every state of Aurona.
The process was reserved more for engendering feelings of obedience and love of service in concubines and other such pleasure slaves. There was no real requirement for slaves of labor to feel love for their Masters, and with their lifespan so short (and often, tragically, shortened) no practical use for it either. And so, even though the process that had trained me to be so perfectly loving and obedient had been borne out from taskmasters trying to find the perfect manner in which to break the mind of a laboring slave, it was now reserved only for slaves such as I—made entirely for the pleasure of the men or women who owned us.
From what I had understood of my many lessons of Hundret culture, more than twenty percent of their economy for nearly a century had been devoted to building this enormous palace. Considering that, during that entire time, Imperial Hundret had spread its arms farther and longer than almost any other nation, and had managed to remain a strong player on the international stage for that entire time—putting down the Brickhill Rebellions (or two of them, at any rate) and fielding the largest land army in the second Eastern War—this was no small feat.
At the end of the long open hall of mirrors, Margot stepped into a portrait and roughly pushed it aside. We stepped together into a much smaller hallway, painted blue, which I assume Margot thought was more private, as she only then began to speak to me.
“I assume you have been told of your situation? You are now to be owned by royalty.”
“Yes, Madam. Or rather, I had inferred as such.”
“What were you told, exactly?”
“It was a silent auction. I had merely been informed, as was no more than my right, that a member of the highest station of Imperial Hundret had purchased me for his use.”
“I see. Then you don’t know quite everything. Your situation...” she stopped briefly, putting a hand to her head, “it is rather...unique.”
“I wouldn’t know, Madam. Politics are not my realm.”
“Neither are they mine. But I do pay attention, these days.” She paused, peering at me curiously. “So, you are perfectly prepared to serve two men at once?”
“I have been trained in all manner of lovemaking and pleasure, including service to two men at once. A slave has many holes, after all.”
She raised an eyebrow at this. Perhaps I had been too crude. My Trainer, Cochran, liked for us to talk dirty. To admit that we were nothing without cock in us, that we were made only for our three holes and to make babies. I had assumed, initially, that he liked this because all men liked this.
“That is not precisely what I meant,” said Margot. “By serving two men at once, I mean, specifically, that you will have two Masters at once. This is something they trained you for, also?”
The idea was rather foreign to me. “Do you mean I will have one Master and then quickly one after that?”
Margot had been perfectly clear. I think I said this only to try and negotiate with the notion in my head for a moment.
“Not at all. I mean it as I said. Two masters at once.” She gripped my arm. “At the same time, two Masters.”
“...I see.”
“So, they did not train you for that?”
“No, Madam.”
We finally arrived at my quarters. Across from the door was a small entry out into a balcony, beyond which were the Hule Mountains. Their wide, sweeping expanse was evident even through the small vantage I had through the door.
Inside, the room I had was small, but lusciously furnished. There was a wide bed at one end. Across from that was a velvet lined couch, the top of which was brocaded with some manner of gold cord. Thick black buttons the size of thumbnails dotted over the top of the back. On the opposite wall stood a tall chest-of-drawers, made from oak, I think, though it could have been cherry or walnut. I am not all that educated in the realms of that particular manner of wood. It would have held all the clothes I had easily in just one small corner of one of its drawers. I had no idea what to do with the rest of all that storage space.
Indeed, I had little idea what to do with the entire room. I had forgotten that so much personal space could be allotted for anyone, let alone a slave.
“...extravagant,” I said softly.
Margot raised an eyebrow. “What was that?”
“Nothing, Madam. Nothing important.”
“Very well.” She straightened. “As you are not familiar with the nature of your service, would you like for me to fill you in?”
“If it please you, Madam.”
Somehow, if it were possible, she straightened further. I got the impression that she was going to help me understand not because she particularly cared for me or my presence, but because the notion of someone not understanding some central role of theirs arrived to her as offensive.
“Well. There are two Imperial Princes here, as you must know, both technically the sons of Emperor Horace. Prince Cullen, he’s the elder, and Prince Frederik. They have been feuding for some time, mostly over who is the rightful heir to the Imperial Throne. Are you aware of this?”
“No, Madam.”
“It’s required information in these quarters. No doubt you will be asked to take a side. I suggest you do your best not to.”
“How is there a dispute? I thought...”
I trailed off, realizing that really, I shouldn’t think about it at all. A slave’s place was to obey, not to think.
“Go on,” said Margot.
“Well. Doesn’t it just go to whoever’s oldest?”
“Normally, yes. Prince Cullen is the offspring from Emperor Horace’s first marriage to the Baroness of Elstuary in the south. When the Baroness died, Gods rest her, the Emperor married the Duchess of Forinsworth, who already had a son, Frederik, who was older than Cullen. There are those who argue that the Duchess’s line is more noble in lineage than that of the Baroness, and besides which, Frederik is the elder of the two available heirs. So, does the line of succession go to the first natural son of the Emperor, or his eldest step-son?”
I took a minute to think that over.
“This is all rather confusing.”
“Yes. Don’t let it bother you too much. I simply didn’t want you to say anything too...off-color. Both princes are quite bristly when it comes to this matter, and being that you are the olive branch that his Imperial Majesty has decided to use to bring the two young men closer together...”
“I see. I will be shared so that they will learn to share. The Emperor bought me to give to them.”
Such arrangements were not entirely uncommon. I had heard of them more with rich estates. Even in those arrangements, however, one man was given primary ownership, and instructed to lend out his new property.
“Yes. You can see why, then, we spent as much money as you as we did.”
“’We,’ Madam?”
“The Emperor is known to take advice from all comers.” She blushed, just slightly. “One last thing.”
“Yes, Madam?”
“Two weeks from today, there is to be a ceremony displaying the unification of purpose between the two heirs. Directly after that time, the Emperor will have to choose one or the other of the princes as his heir apparent, but as he would like a stable empire, he wants one of the two to abdicate their position publicly, and swear allegiance to the o
ther.”
“I see...?”
Clearly, I did not see. On a nearby table was a drawing of a small meadow, probably somewhere deep in the mountains. For some reason, I felt a desire—quite short-lived—to flee there. Quickly, I staunched the feeling. I would do my duty, and obey, no matter what.
“We have tried everything to get the two princes to work with one another. Declarations by the Emperor. Trust workshops deep in the Hule Mountains. Pitting them against one another in fight training to let out their aggressions. All of it only served to heighten their desire to destroy the other. Perhaps, if we had another year and an expert psychologist, there would be much we could do, but right now, we are out of time and options.”
“That sounds difficult, Madam. I am sorry.”
Clearly, I still wasn't getting it.
“We have been told you are well-versed in the arts of...persuasion, shall we say?”
“I suppose so, Madam.” It dawned on me suddenly. “You want me to choose which one of the princes to become the Imperial Heir?”
“I did not say that. I merely mean to insinuate that part of your duties are to ensure that someone steps down. They would both be good rulers, and no doubt the threat of the other would be enough to keep them in line. It is up to you to convince one or the other to cooperate.” She walked over to the nearby closet, throwing it open. Inside were an incredible arrangement of shoes, lingerie, and clothing. “Now, let’s get you ready to meet your new owners.”
* * * * *
The quarters given to me were rather larger than what I was used to from training—all I had known during that time was the small four-cornered rooms for learning new skills and disciplines. A slave did not need much space, for example, to kneel in a corner, finger her hot pussy, and repeat the chant of service for hours.
And so, that was how I occupied my time until late afternoon, after unpacking my meager possessions and picking an outfit with Margot for my date that evening with Cullen.
At the designated time, I slipped into a violet gown with a draping v-neck, revealing all of my bountiful cleavage and considerably toned, soft torso, and had one of the palatial servants guide me to the left out from my room and toward Prince Cullen’s quarters. My tall heels clicked on the marble floors. I noticed, with more than a little satisfaction, that I caught the eye of several of the armed guards and puffed-up dignitaries wandering the halls.
The Sold For Service Bundle Page 9
