Broken Princess

by Renard, Loki

  Aya remembered the lesson she had learned that first public mating, and drew herself a little taller. These crowds were not baying for her denigration; they were cooing and calling with a lust worship.

  Before the coming of Kazriel, Aya had been hidden from the world. Now her body was an object of reverence and pure beauty. She drew confidence from her king, the god who had become man in order to live a human life with her. His sacrifice was greater than any she could imagine; he had hurled himself into a fleshy abyss where death most certainly awaited. He who could have lived endless years, but now walked the same short path of sentience she did.

  Aya looked into Kazriel’s wise face and felt a welling of love that mattered more than her shame, more than the crowd, more than Lokheim itself. He looked back, stroking her hair away from her face and dropping a kiss on her lips. With his arms loosely circled around her waist, he held her naked form before all those they ruled.

  “I want you to turn to the crowd and spread yourself,” he murmured just as she began to feel a little comfortable. “Bend over, put your hands to your cheeks, and show them the royal sex. Let them see what unites us all, our flesh.”

  It was a lewd order, but what could Aya do but follow it? She was beginning to feel trickles of excitement low in her body, the need to obey, to bask in the warmth of his approval. She was not a thing apart from Kazriel. She was his princess, a part of him, and of the people themselves. When she showed them her sex, she was showing them another part of their kingdom, a place of pride and desire, the royal channel from which generations would emerge in time.

  She could sense that the king was about to wax lyrical on that very subject, and she was not disappointed. As she stood bent at the waist, her cheeks parted with her very own hands, her tight little anus and soft pussy on brazen display to the crowds, many of whom had invested in spy glasses for the occasion, Kazriel began to speak to those who jostled one another for a closer peek.

  “This hole,” Kazriel said, plunging his fingers inside her with a casual touch, two slipping into her pussy in an easy stroke, “is no mere vagina. This is the portal through which the kings and queens of Lokheim will emerge.”

  The crowd cheered their agreement and Aya felt a strange mixture of pride, arousal, and of course, the native embarrassment that would never truly leave her. She was not brazen by nature. She was a reserved young lady thrust into the spotlight by the necessity to rule over people who had been denied pleasure all too long.

  His fingers felt good, but she craved more than fingers. She needed cock, good hard flesh inside her, using her pussy for its intended purpose.

  She did not have to wait too terribly long. After a few more strokes that made increasingly wet sounds inside her all too eager flesh, Kazriel spun her about, pushed her forward over the balcony so her breasts hung down beneath her, the twin globes of her ass raised high as he lined the head of his rampant cock up with that wet slit.

  Aya could not see him. She could only see the crowd now, the naked people pressing against one another, rubbing and kissing, caressing, each of them on the brink of coupling, some rebellious souls perhaps already joined at the crotch.

  Kazriel’s voice rumbled behind her, his voice wrapping around her and holding her just as strongly as his arms.

  “I love you, Aya. With all my mind, with all my soul, and with all this flesh.”

  “I love you too,” she whispered as he surged forward, and her vow of love became a moan of lust.

  “The queen is taken! May all be penetrated!” Kazriel declared in rough tones, the strain of remaining regal when all he wanted to do was rut his mate like an animal clear in his voice.

  A great cheer went up, and then a collective moan as in the same instant, hundreds of soft wet cunts were stretched around the thick, plunging cocks of their chosen mates. Grunts, growls, moans, cries of desire filled the castle courtyard, the very same place where so much life had been lost now a place where life bloomed anew, thrust after thrust, orgasm after orgasm hailing the cycle of creation of which they were all a part.

  Kazriel reached for her hair, pulling it back so her face would not be obscured during the royal mating. Every expression was to be visible to the crowd, every jiggle of her soft breasts. She felt his hunger reflected in the crowd, the mating below taking place in a variety of ways, no two couples fucking the same way. Here and there, more than a couple was making love. One woman was surrounded by three men, each of them taking one of her holes for themselves. Across the courtyard, Aya watched a pair of couples split up, females swapped and pulled down onto fresh cocks. She saw thighs, breasts, mouths, bottoms all glazed in cum, for many of the men below did not have the stamina or the self-control of the king.

  The sensations rolling through her body were emphasized by the sight laid out below her, her nipples hard with the cool air playing across them, the underside of her breasts gently rubbing against the smooth stone of the balcony. Kazriel’s cock sluiced up inside her, his thrusts even and measured. He was pacing himself. He intended for this to last a long time. She knew that this would not be a quick or easy experience. He was going to push her to the very limits of her sexuality.

  At that moment, Kazriel pulled free, his cock wet with her cunt juices. She saw the scimitar of his hard flesh gleaming in the sun a moment before his grip on her hair drew her mouth down on it, and then she was tasting his sex and hers, the salty tang of his seed that must have been begging to be freed inside her tight flesh and the light flavor of her very own juices. She rolled her tongue around his rod, felt the furrows and ridges of flesh and vein, his cock a pulsing animal inside her mouth, stimulated by the lapping motion of her eager tongue.

  Kazriel reached down, tugging her head back so she still looked at him, even though his dick remained firmly in her mouth, pushing all the way to the back of her throat.

  “I’m going to claim your every hole,” he said, his eyes locked on hers. For a moment, she thought she saw a flash in them, something more than the gray-green gaze she had become accustomed to. For a brief second, there was... just... more... an intangible hugeness that swallowed everything. Then the moment was over and all was as it had been, his cock pushing down into her throat, her pussy dripping with need.

  Kazriel let out another one of those feral sounds, placed his hands on either side of her face and began to thrust in and out of her lips, using her mouth as if it were her pussy, fucking her with the rough need of a possessed man. She breathed in between the thrusts, staying on hands and knees on that dais, feeling the eyes of the crowd on her, hearing their collective moans and growls of passion. They were as caught up in this moment as he was. It was as though only she could see what was coming, only her senses were attuned to the shifts of heaven and hell.

  Aya blinked, and there it was again. Another flash behind Kazriel’s eyes. She was certain she saw it this time, though her mouth was still wrapped firmly around his dick, so she could not say a thing. She sensed danger coming like clouds on the horizon, though the sky itself stayed clear. It was like a prickling down her spine, a sharp sensation on the very back of her neck. The energy between them had changed, and the human behind Kazriel’s gaze was fading away before her very eyes.

  Putting her tongue to good use, tightening her lips, she became an even more active participant in this display of pure carnality. Something inside her told her it was important, that this was more than a gratuitous display of filth, that something transcendent was at hand.

  “Yess... yesss!” He began to grunt and moan, and it seemed as though he might spend his seed down her throat. He threw his head back, and the sound that came out was no mortal cry of release. It was a roar of escape.

  As if echoing him, the crowd let out a series of collective screams as King Kazriel began to change before their eyes, his body undergoing a series of transformations, each more terrifying than the one before as Kazriel’s great orgasm came in a strange and terrible form. The king grew several feet in height, his skin beco
ming red and scaly, horns protruding from his skull as he took on the form of the god of the dead, Karve, the one all feared.

  His rage filled the air, his presence turning the celebratory mood into one of pure terror. Cocks became flaccid and lovers fled before the vicious creature that had taken control and advantage of the human form of Kazriel, the king who had become human and no longer contained the light or the dark. Without the guardian, there was nothing to stop the demon from returning, they discovered, terribly and all at once.

  Aya pulled back, her mouth open in an inevitable scream as the demon who had been her lover and her king grabbed her, spread her legs and plunged the scaled length of his now much longer, thicker cock inside her tender sex, ravaging her with rough strokes that made her scream with utter pleasure.

  She was terrified, but that did nothing to dull the sensations rushing through her body. The darkness claiming her was just as real and as commanding as Kazriel had been in his human state and she was just as capable of enjoying it in the way he had taught her to.

  Though she had been prepared for this moment over the course of months, Aya did not understand what was happening. She did not know why her loving king had been replaced with a brutal monster, but she knew the way it felt when that searing cock ravaged her, and she thrilled to it as she was lifted aloft, held in the clawed hands of the creature, spun on his rod like a toy and then fucked while held high, her body on dark display as Karve desecrated whatever holiness might have been in the coupling with feral grunts and thrusts of that terribly thick cock that threatened to split her in twain.

  At first the crowds fled to escape the wrath of death, but as the monster continued to busy itself with the princess, a curious thing happened—they crept back with curious eyes. They peeked around corners. They watched as Aya, sweet princess Aya, she who had been virginal and modest for so long, not only was claimed by the darkness, but rode it with evident enjoyment, her mortal cunt every bit a match for Karve’s plunging rod of punishment.

  Those with the spy glasses would have seen in great detail how her outer lips and inner ones alike were swollen with the effort of mating, how they gleamed with the juices of desire that did not abate even though she was now held out over the balcony, her very life in danger both from the fall that might take her if the creature were to let go, or perhaps from the beast itself should it decide to consume her entirely.

  Aya embraced Karve, and evil, and the darkness of her past, and all that of Lokheim, her quivering cunt cleansing the sins of many as she was sacrificed upon what seemed to her to be the ever growing rod. She did not fight, she did not beg for mercy, she did not ask for forgiveness. She welcomed every rough thrust and she took the pain into herself, transforming it into a pleasure that made her toes curl and her voice rise in the unmistakable, utterly beautiful cry of female orgasm. It was clear, even over the rabble of the crowd and the noise of the city beyond. It rose over the grunts of the demon and it pierced the very heavens—and in that moment, a true miracle occurred.

  The skies parted, a bright bolt of silver light arcing down not like lightning, but in a vortex of pure energy. It struck the demon Karve and traveled through him, making every piece of him emanate that strange light that grew brighter and brighter until finally none could look upon the princess and the demon locked at cock and cunt, seared by some celestial beam.

  The story would be told for generations, how a year seemed to pass in an instant, how all felt the warmth of summer and the cold of winter, how the birds fell from the sky, then shook themselves and rose again, how the sun whipped across the horizon and how the stars themselves danced in the skies, and then, in the end, how the brightness cleared and standing before them were the princess Aya, entirely intact and utterly unharmed—and the newly reborn guardian, Kazriel, no longer limited to his human form, but instead returned to full celestial power.

  It would be written in secret tomes, how Aya’s mastery of the dark had allowed the world to contain more light, to allow for the return of the full force of the guardian’s power. It would be said that it was Aya who saved Kazriel, and in turn, all of Lokheim. It was her face that would grace the walls of generations yet to come, her name that would be spoken with reverence. It was the spoiled princess, she who had hid in her tower and gorged herself while others suffered, the one who refused the guardian his due and had to be forcibly subdued who, in the very end, saved them all. Thanks to Aya, death was conquered, life began anew, and the realm of Lokheim was most definitely, beyond the shadow of any kind of doubt, saved.

  Epilogue

  “Tell me you’re not going to turn into a demon again,” Aya murmured sweetly against the lips of her guardian king. “I don’t think I can stand the chafing.”

  Kazriel drew her up into his arms and kissed her sweetly, pulling her from the balcony and into the interior of the castle. The peasants would be talking about the appearance of Karve and the triumph of the guardian for months, but there was no need to explain any of it to them, for they had seen the battle before their own eyes and could make of it whatever they would.

  “My poor princess,” he murmured softly. “You suffered so much—and enjoyed every bit of it.”

  “True,” Aya admitted, her eyes shining with love and light. “But still, I can’t fuck the forces of evil into submission every day. You must keep a hold on your devil side.”

  “I’ll do my best,” Kazriel purred, carrying her to her private chamber for the long, slow, comfortable care she had earned so many times over. “Oh, by the way...”

  “Yes?” Aya’s eyes had been closing with exhaustion as he laid her down on the bed, but she forced them open to look into the face of the man she so adored so much she would still fuck him even when he was fifteen feet high and full of horns.

  Kazriel spread his hand across her belly. “This time it’s twins.”

  She blinked tiredly, too exhausted to muster the necessary excitement. “Will they be guardians or demons?”

  “Better than either,” he smiled. “They’ll be human.”

  Aya nodded, closed her eyes, and would have fallen asleep but for the sole sound that would always wake her—the perfectly ill-timed, soul-piercingly sharp cry of their infant son.

  “Now you’re immortal, you get up for the baby,” she murmured as she curled up beneath the blanket Kazriel slipped over her shoulders, and proceeded to fall into the deepest, most perfectly dreamless sleep any princess could have.

  The End

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