Princess Playthings

by ArcherStories

Tags: #dom:male #fantasy #pov:bottom #sub:female

A King trades away the will of the people — and his daughters.

The dragon was getting closer. Princess Ayren could see the glowing horizon from her balcony. Her father, the King, had evacuated the towns in the dragon’s path, but that hadn’t stopped the great beast from burning them to the ground anyways.

The dragon had appeared three days prior, emerging from the mountains to the north and burning Broad Lake, a small fishing village at the foot of the mountains. It had turned south and blazed a path directly towards the King’s City. Nothing had been able to stop it. The knights that had gone out to battle had not returned. At the rate that it was moving, the Dragon would be on the King’s doorstep by the following night.

Ayren and her sister, Princess Penelope, had urged their father to leave. Evacuate the city, head East to the sea, and get out. Her father had too much pride for that. He said that no King of their land had ever abandoned their City. In a darker, softer tone he had added that the dragon was twice as fast as their best horses. They wouldn’t make it to the sea. Their only chance was to fight it from the strength of a walled city.

Princess Ayren watched from her balcony, knowing that some ancient, powerful creature was bearing down on them. Never before had Ayren felt so powerless. Was this the end of their dynasty?

It was then that Ayren saw the rider. He moved quickly across the plains, coming from the direction of the fires in the distance. At first she thought it might be a surviving knight, but he was clad in black and she could see no glint of steel on him. He rode up the walls of the city, passing out of Ayren’s vision. Riders weren’t unusual, but most traffic to the dragon-destined city had stopped in the past few days. Also, the fact that the rider was coming from the fires indicated he might have news.

Ayren hurried into her room, finding the appropriate gown. She often wore emerald green dresses that covered her well. As a daughter of the King, chastity was a political issue, so modesty was important for the future of her family’s dynasty. She didn’t worry as much outside of the palace, but it was supremely important outside of her home. Once appropriately dressed, she walked down the corridors, intending to find her way to the main gates of the city. She would take the armed guard with her, of course, as she did whenever she left the royal palace.

Voices from her Father’s war room caught her attention. It was her father’s voice and another she did not know. Ayren stopped in the door.

The rider was here. Ayren didn’t know how she knew it was the same man. Obviously, he wore the same dark clothes, but she hadn’t gotten a good look before. She just knew it was the same. There was something about the aura around him, the way the air seemed to interact with his skin, that told Ayren it was the same man. He turned his eyes on Ayren and she felt her breath catch in her throat.

He was a man who comfortably stood in the manner of power. His cloak, tunic, boots, and hair were all solid black, with not even the dust of the road clinging to them. On his fingers, he wore two large rings with blazing red crystals. A dagger was at his hip, sheathed. Such a weapon was rarely allowed in the presence of the King, but he wore it nonetheless and Ayren’s father seemed undisturbed by it.

Ayren didn’t know how he had gotten to the palace so quickly. She didn’t know why he wore his weapon in the presence of the King. She didn’t even know who the man was. But as he locked eyes with Ayren, those questions seemed to be less important. He was here and that was enough.

“Oh, my dear,” the King said, taking notice of Ayren. “This is Sir Abbott. He has come with an offer to help slay the dragon.”

“How would you be able to do that?” Ayren asked, skillfully balancing the accusation in her question against the need for politeness. “Many of our best knights have fallen.”

“As I was explaining to your father, I do believe that I possess skills that those knights did not,” Sir Abbott said simply. He turned back to the King, apparently resuming negotiations that Ayren had interrupted. “And if I were to fail, then any sort of deal we strike would cease to matter. In light of the present threat, you have very little to lose.”

The King nodded, accepting Sir Abbott’s presence.

“What, if I may ask, are you asking for in exchange for your service?” Ayren asked.

Sir Abbott turned his attention again to the Princess. This time, his eyes dropped to the emerald gown she wore. Despite the modesty it provided her, Ayren shifted uncomfortably under the man’s gaze. It was just for a moment, before his eyes snapped back up to her face, but Ayren had seen his leer.

“I ask for the will of the people for one year,” Sir Abbott said.

“I still fail to understand your meaning by that,” the King said.

“It’s simple,” Sir Abbott said, breaking eye contact with Ayren and walking around the great table in the center of the war room. As he spoke, his eyes surveyed the many trophies mounted on the walls. “Every Kingdom rules by the authority of their King. There is a sort of divine magic about that, where the King is given the very will of the people, by which he may use to govern effectively. It’s a sort of contract with heaven in exchange for a throne. I am familiar with many magics on Earth. I can disappear in this place and appear in another. I can sustain myself without food or water for near infinite stretches of time. I can make people see and hear whatever I want. But the will of the people? That is a higher magic altogether. That sort of power rests exclusively in the throne of their King. So decrees heaven.”

“That sounds like a good sales pitch to me,” the King observed candidly. “Nice words, meant to flatter, with very little substance behind them.”

“If you believe that, then you have very little to lose by bargaining with it,” Sir Abbott said with a small smile.

“I have lived a long life, Sir Abbott,” the King said. “I have ruled these people since the death of my father. And never once have I seen anything that would convince me that magic is real on Earth. Nor that I possess some power over my people other than that given to me by the authority of man.”

Sir Abbott shrugged. “Again, then you have little to lose. If I am making this up, then in all likelihood I will die fighting this dragon and you will be in no different place than you are. If I tell the truth, you will have saved your people and temporarily surrendered a magic that you apparently weren’t using anyways. Either way, that dragon is coming for this city.”

The King paused a moment. He looked down at the great table in his war room, with the map of his kingdom spread wide. There were markings where his advisors had told him the dragon had already been and a small, movable tile indicating where it was now. He looked up again at Sir Abbott.

“Fine. I agree. Save my people from the dragon and I will give you the will of the people for one year. Shall I have it in writing?”

“No, no,” Sir Abbott said. “The word of the King is good enough.” He started towards the door. Ayren stepped aside to let him pass. Sir Abbott paused in front of her and extended his hand. Ayren placed her own hand in his and he planted a gentlemanly kiss on her knuckles.

“My dear, your beauty is staggering,” Sir Abbott said. “I shall see you soon.” With that, he walked down the corridor, out of view, and was gone.

“Fool,” the King muttered. “He wastes my time.”

“Who admitted him?” Ayren asked.

“Hmmm?” the King said, raising an eyebrow.

“I said who let him in?”

“I… I don’t know,” the King furrowed his brow. “I just looked up and… and he was there.”

“He had his dagger on. Why didn’t some one take it?”

“I don’t know,” the King said. He frown deepened. “I think I’m too tired, my dear. I don’t… I don’t remember. I must need sleep.”

“Well then let’s get you to bed,” Ayren said. “You need to be at full strength tomorrow.”

The King allowed himself to be guided to bed by his daughter. As Ayren blew out the candles on his nightstand, she thought again about the strange, black-clad rider. There was little about him that she could understand.

Ayren told herself that thinking about Sir Abbott was a waste of time. The thing she really had to think about was the dragon. It would be here tomorrow. It was the dragon that was the threat.

* * *

The dragon was dead. At first, the King refused to believe it. He was so busy coordinating the defenses of the city, preparing for a battle of stone walls against fire, that he barely registered the words at all. His advisors had to repeat multiple times before it registered. The dragon was dead. Scouts had found its body just a few miles to the north. Apparently it had kept moving through the night. If it hadn’t been killed, it would have been upon the city by dawn, instead of dusk. They would have been unprepared and helpless.

The King mounted his horse. Ayren and Penelope joined him, riding across the fields in a royal entourage. Penelope had just turned 18 the month before. Despite being a few years younger than Ayren, she rode much better. The King had to repeatedly call her back to the entourage, lest she charge ahead to the dragon’s corpse alone. Despite the joyous news, the King seemed nervous still. Ayren thought he was worried that the dragon wasn’t actually dead. This should pass once he saw the body.

They came over a hill and saw the dragon clearly. It was massive, as long as three ships lined up bow to stern. The grass around them had scorched and parts of it still burned. It smelled horrendous.

“Look at that,” Penelope gasped. “A real dragon.”

“A dead one,” the King nodded. His mood hadn’t improved.

“Hello!” a voice called. Only then did Ayren notice the movement on the ground in front of the dragon. The man in black, Sir Abbott, strolled through the charred Earth and waved a hand. “Hello, your Highness.”

“Father,” Ayren said. “He did it. He actually did it.” She had written off the man as dead almost as soon as she put her father to bed. Now, however…

“He did. He lived up to his side of the bargain,” the King said. If anything, his mood was falling further.

“Well, as you can see, this is one dragon that will not be scorching your City any time soon,” Sir Abbott said with a wide grin.

“You killed it?” Penelope said. Her long brown braid tossed back and forth behind her as she looked from the dragon to the man.

“And who are you, my dear?” Sir Abbott said with a smile, approaching the younger princess. He added, “Tell me, your Majesty.”

“This is my daughter, Penelope,” the King said quickly. He didn’t seem to enjoy the statement as he spoke it.

“Well your wife must have been stunning,” Sir Abbott said to the King, “to have had two such lovely daughters.” He raised an eyebrow. “Just two?”

“Just two,” the King nodded.

“And no sons?”

“No sons.”

“Hmmm,” Sir Abbott nodded. His eyes surveyed Penelope again, then turned their attention to Ayren. While her riding clothes were not quite as modest as her gowns—although still far from revealing—Ayren didn’t feel the need to cover herself as she had yesterday. She allowed the man his long, pondering glances at her form.

Finally, Sir Abbott whistled and his horse, a beautiful black mare, rode through the burnt grass and stopped in front of Sir Abbott. He mounted her, turned to the entourage, and said, “Alright. Let’s go back to the palace, shall we?” Ayren, Penelope, and the guards all turned their horses and began following. The King stayed a minute, looking at the dragon, and then turned and followed.

Only on the way back did Ayren realize that it was normally the King that gave orders to the entourage. They had all taken the command from Sir Abbott, however. As the thought entered her mind, it left almost as quick.

* * *

The guards helped the King vacated his private quarters in the palace. He occupied a small guest room in the lower floors. Sir Abbott moved into the royal apartment, where he quickly made himself at home. Ayren expected that if her father was moving, so too would his daughters, but that didn’t seem to be Sir Abbott’s plan. Ayren and Penelope maintained their rooms.

Ayren expected that a non-family guest staying in the palace would mean that she would need to be extra careful for modesty sake, but strangely she seemed to behave differently. She found herself locking her gowns away in a chest where they would be safe for about a year (why this time period was important to her, she did not know). She found herself looking for more form-fitting clothing or perhaps even more revealing clothing. Unfortunately, she didn’t seem to have any. She ordered an attendant to find a seamstress to make her some different clothes.

Penelope, too, seemed to change wardrobe. She found an old gown that she had worn when she was smaller. With a little adjustment, she fit into it, although it was considerably shorter than Ayren might have considered proper. If Ayren wasn’t mistaken, Penelope might have actually cut the skirt shorter, because it extended only halfway down her thigh. Also, to fit Penelope’s chest, which was much fuller now than when she was younger, she had cut a deep neckline into the gown. She seemed to be bursting out of it.

Ayren made a comment at one point, noting how “interesting” the gown was.

“Thank you,” Penelope said. She did a deep curtsy that risked showing more of her than Ayren had ever seen before. “I think it’s cute.”

“I was trying to find some… uh… different clothes, but I couldn’t find any,” Ayren confessed.

“Well have some made. It’s not like a seamstress would need very much fabric. I’m having more made for myself.”

“I ordered some,” Ayren nodded.

Both princesses received their fresh gowns within just a few days. To Ayren’s surprise, the gown was actually two pieces, each competing with the other to use the least fabric. The top barely covered her breasts, in fact showing the bottom of them from a certain angle. Similarly, she was sure that her butt was visible, sticking out from the bottom of her skirt.

What was even more surprising, however, was how much she liked what she saw when she wore them. She looked great. It was far from modest, of course, but she could wear what she wanted while inside the royal palace, couldn’t she? It was her own home.

Penelope looked spectacular as well. Her chest was fuller than Ayren’s, so more of her breasts seemed visible beneath the top. Ayren’s was a silky green material, complimenting her deep auburn hair. Penelope’s was a silky blue. Her long, brown braid slapped against the tiny skirt as she walked.

Shortly after Sir Abbott moved in, the princesses began to serve him dinner. Ayren wondered if she was doing it as a thank you for slaying the dragon, but couldn’t be sure. Whyever she was doing it, she was.

Sir Abbott sat at the head of the royal dining room. Ayren and Penelope, clad in their tiny new gowns, brought him each course. They were careful to hold the food in such a way so as to not obstruct his view of their bodies, which the sisters both apparently thought he needed to see as much as possible. Penelope was in charge of keeping his wine goblet full. She frequently pressed up against him as she poured. Sir Abbott seemed to support her so she didn’t fall, with a firm hand on her butt—under the silky blue fabric, to get a more stable grip.

Both princesses stood at attention, straight and ready, while he ate and drank. As he finished, Penelope asked, “Is there anything else that we can do for you, sir?”

Sir Abbott smiled, his gaze lingering over their bodies. “Not quite yet. You’re still adjusting and I don’t… well… I must give you time to adjust, lest you become concerned. No, I don’t need anything else right now.” Princess Ayren thought this comment was strange, but as soon as her concern entered her mind it seemed to pass away again.

She did hope that she and her sister could find new ways to serve Sir Abbott soon, however. He deserved their thanks.

* * *

In the days after the dragon attack, the weather of the land seemed to shift. It had been spring, which normally meant lots of rain and even floods in some of the lower lands. Now, however, the storm clouds seemed to break apart in the mountains before they drenched the land. Even without them, gentle rains came in the night and the days were warm and pleasant. The crops were flourishing.

At one point, as Ayren was giving Sir Abbott a sponge bath, she mentioned the beautiful weather and good luck for the crops. As she spoke, she wrung out the sponge over her body, resoaking her skimpy outfit so it clung tighter to her. She wasn’t sure where she learned this method for giving a sponge bath, but she was sure it was the best.

“Yes, I did that,” Sir Abbott said.

“Sir?” Ayren said, confused.

“The weather. The crops. All of that. That’s my magic.”

Ayren blinked, processing this. “It’s magic?”

“Yes,” Sir Abbott said. “You’ll also find that the people are more peaceful. You’ll find that our neighboring kingdoms don’t really care to go to war with us for now. You’ll find that trade increases and generally people do well here.”

“You… you can do all this?” Ayren was still shocked, even as she scrubbed Sir Abbott’s chest with the sponge. She made sure to press her own chest against him, spreading the water that she was pouring on herself.

“Yes,” Sir Abbott nodded. “It’s really just so there aren’t any distractions. I don’t want to have to deal with flooding in Broad Lake or something. If everyone’s happier, I get to focus more on enjoying myself.”

Ayren squeezed another sponge full of water on her chest, making sure to soak her breasts thoroughly. A thought occurred to her suddenly, however.

“Sir, Broad Lake was destroyed,” Ayren said. “The dragon burned it down and killed everyone there.”

“Oh,” Sir Abbott said. “No, I believe you’re mistaken.”

Immediately, Ayren was sure she was mistaken. Broad Lake was fine. She had eaten fish that had been caught there just last night. In fact, she didn’t need to figure out where the dragon attacked. That wasn’t important anymore.

“Why don’t you take that top off?” Sir Abbott suggested.

“Oh, that’s a good idea,” Ayren nodded. She peeled the soaking top off. Her—tits? Was that the word? She was pretty sure—tits looked great, still soaked with the water. She pressed them firmly against Sir Abbott as she scrubbed him with the sponge.

Sir Abbott watched her appreciatively. He said softly, “I can’t wait to try you out for real. Just a few more days and you’ll be ready.” Ayren wasn’t sure what he meant, but quickly decided it didn’t matter.

As she scrubbed her way down his body, she noticed that his penis was very erect, pitching a tent in the small shorts he wore. For a moment, she felt compelled to touch it with the sponge. Then, just as strongly, she told herself to not do that (“Wait a little longer” was the voice inside her mind). Suddenly, frustration and impatience filled Ayren’s mind in a way that she couldn’t quite understand.

Sir Abbott seemed to be feeling the same thing, because he suddenly stepped back, made a small groaning noise, and shook his head sharply.

“Is everything well, sir?” Ayren asked, alarmed to see him in this state.

“Yes, yes,” Sir Abbott said. “Go stand over there, would you?” He pointed across the room.

Ayren quickly obeyed, standing against the wall and facing Sir Abbott. The air was cold on her bare tits, making her nipples sharp.

“Close your eyes,” Sir Abbott ordered.

Ayren obeyed, closing her eyes. She heard some odd noises, including a sort of wet smacking noise. She thought she heard Sir Abbott make a few noises, such as soft grunts and heavier breathing. After a few minutes of standing topless with her eyes closed, Sir Abbott said, “Ok. Open your eyes.”

Ayren opened her eyes. Sir Abbott looked much more relaxed. Ayren even noticed that pitched tent in his shorts was gone.

“Clean this up, would you?” Sir Abbott said, pointing at a spot on the ground. Ayren saw some white liquid—soap maybe?—on the ground, near where Sir Abbott had been standing. Sir Abbott started towards the door. “I’m going to go take a nap.”

“Yes, sir,” Ayren nodded eagerly. She knelt and cleaned the small mess. When finished, she re-donned the skimpy green top and hurried off to find her sister. They had to ready dinner for when Sir Abbott awoke from his nap.

* * *

The guards stood in front of the throne, where Sir Abbott lounged. Ayren and Penelope knelt on the throne to his left and right—neither of them knew why, but it seemed important to be on display next to Sir Abbott. The guards looked at the princesses freely—even hungrily—but no one seemed alarmed to see them in this position.

“Sire,” the head guard said, “I… we wanted to know how best to serve. We have a lot of time on our hands, all of a sudden. There seems to be no crime. No threats. We don’t know what to do.”

“Well how about you reduce shifts,” Sir Abbott said. “Take a break. Keep getting paid, but go home and have some free time back.”

“Oh,” the head guard said, surprised. “I didn’t expect… that’s great! Thank you!”

“But first,” Sir Abbott said, raising a finger, “help me out with something.”

“Yes sire,” the head guard said. “What can we do?”

“Go get me some servants. Find the most beautiful women from the city, the countryside, wherever. Nice faces, sure, but pay special attention to nice figures. Does anyone need examples of what that means?” He gestured vaguely to the princesses kneeling by the throne. The guards smiled and leered. Their gazes felt good on her exposed skin.

“They’ll serve here in the palace. Also, get me some seamstresses. We’re going to make them some nice uniforms.”

“Yes, sire,” the head guard nodded.

The guards hurried out to fulfill the order. Sir Abbott whistled and—although neither had been commanded like this before—both princesses knew what he wanted them to do. They stood and sidled up next to Sir Abbott, pressing their bodies against him on the throne. Sir Abbott’s hands grabbed greedily at their thighs. Both princesses wiggled their tits on his body, apparently spontaneously.

“Don’t you worry, princesses,” Sir Abbott said. “I’m bringing in some eye candy, but they won’t replace you. There’s just something so right about princess playthings. The beautiful untouchables, all mine to touch.” Although neither princess registered the words in their minds, both giggled and continued to push themselves onto him.

“You’re both making me so impatient,” Sir Abbott said. “History says that I should wait seven days, but…” His eyes leered at Penelope’s tits, then shifted to Ayren’s tits, then back to Penelope’s. “…I genuinely don’t know if I can wait.”

Suddenly, Ayren found herself wanting to encourage him to take her. The words poured out of her mouth as suddenly as they entered her mind. “Don’t wait. I’m all your’s. Take me however you want me. Take us both. Stuff us full of it. Let us be your little princess whores.” She was aware as she spoke that Penelope was saying very similar things. Ayren felt that she should not be saying these things, as a proper princess of a noble dynasty, but they were her true desires of her heart and she felt compelled to speak them.

Sir Abbott stood suddenly, removing himself from the beautiful, begging princesses. He ran a hand through his hair and let out a long breath. Ayren found her and her sister’s mouths suddenly close, cutting off their begging.

“It’s day six,” Sir Abbott said softly. “Tomorrow.” He turned back to the princesses, leering at their bodies. “Stand up and let me see those tits.”

Both sisters stood and lifted their tops off. They stood, proudly displaying their chests for Sir Abbott. Sir Abbott walked closer, reaching up and squeezing their tits. It wasn’t the gentle grasp of a gentleman lover. It was the firm grip of ownership. Ayren heard herself and Penelope giggle un unison.

“Day six,” Sir Abbott muttered. “Or…” He cocked his head to the side. “It was morning time.” Something seemed to solidify in his eyes, some resolve taking form. He stepped back, letting go of the princess’s tits.

“After dinner tonight, you will retire with me to my chambers,” Sir Abbott said. “A few hours early won’t hurt, and if it does I’m sure I can manage your transition well enough.” The first sentence made sense to them, but the second passed through their brains without registering.

Whatever he meant, both princesses were very excited for whatever Sir Abbott had in store for them.

* * *

Both princesses decided to leave their skimpy outfits behind when they served dinner. Ayren was aware that this was odd behavior, going far out of her way to abandon modesty all together, but once the idea entered her head, she knew it was what she was going to do. After all, Sir Abbott had seen her tits plenty. What was wrong with showing him her pussy or her ass?

Penelope and Ayren served him dinner in the nude. While Sir Abbott had always been rather free with his grips on the princesses, his hands were on them frequently and firmly. He paid special attention to Penelope’s tits, once pulling them close so he could suck on her nipples (Penelope giggled giddily as he did so). He had a firm appreciation for Ayren’s ass, frequently slapping it after she delivered food or wine to him. Dinner ran very long, because Sir Abbott seemed less and less concerned with eating and more and more concerned with playing with the princesses.

Ayren went to retrieve dessert—a sweet tart that he had taken a liking to. When she returned, she found Penelope straddling Sir Abbott. His face was buried between her tits. Penelope was making moans of pleasure, gyrating her hips against Sir Abbott’s crotch.

Ayren approached, setting the tart down onto the table. Sir Abbott’s face emerged from Penelope’s sizable tits long enough to look up at Ayren and smile. He gestured for her to come closer, then placed his face back into Penelope’s chest. Sir Abbott’s hand gripped and slapped Ayren’s ass. Ayren’s mind was filled with the pleasure that each hard, commanding slap imbued her with. She hoped that Sir Abbott was pleased with her and her sister’s bodies.

Sir Abbott’s hand found it’s way around Ayren’s waste. A finger explored her pussy, which was very wet. Ayren gasped with the pleasure of it, but also the surprise. She was a virgin. She was a virgin daughter of the King. Chastity was a political issue for the Kingdom. Her marriage was to bind the Kingdom to another in familial alliance.

Still, Ayren could not deny that Sir Abbott’s finger exploring her pussy felt great. Almost as soon as her worries came to mind, they were gone again. She was wet. She was wanting. Her only regret was that the dragon slayer wasn’t filling her with something more substantial down there yet.

After a few minutes of playing with Ayren’s pussy and sucking on Penelope’s tits, he finally sat back, looked at the tart and said, “I think I’m going to save that tart for later.” He eyed the sisters hungrily. “Tonight, you’re my dessert.”

They hurried, giggling and eager, to Sir Abbott’s chambers. He repeatedly smacked their asses as they moved, eliciting more giggling. As they entered the bed chamber, both princesses pounced upon the bed, stretching and displaying their bodies on the silk sheets.

Sir Abbott closed the door and closed the steel bolt, locking them in. He turned to the princesses, jovialness fading quickly into a more primal fierceness. He unbuckled his belt and let his tunic fall down around his ankles. He stepped out of it and dropped his shorts, revealing a very stiff cock that Ayren knew she was going to be very acquainted with.

She hadn’t see a cock up close before, Ayren realized. She hadn’t actually expected to until her wedding night. Again, Ayren’s mind became alarmed that she was on this bed, about to get fucked, next to her sister no less. Just as quickly as the alarm came, it faded again into the background. The cock was magnificent. Ayren wondered what it tasted like. And would it taste the same on her lips as it would in the back of her mouth. There was only one way to find out.

“Oh, I want it,” Penelope moaned. “Oh I want it all over me. In my every hole.”

Similar urges appeared in Ayren’s mind. “Cover me with your cum. Disgrace me. We’re your princess playthings.”

“Fuck meeee,” Penelope groaned. “I’m your royal whore.”

“Fuck me!” Ayren exclaimed. “I wanna be your royal whore!”

“No, I want to be! Fuck my tits!” Penelope said.

“Fuck my ass!” Ayren shot back.

“My mouth!”

“My throat!”

“Ladies, I promise you I’ll use you both like whores. Just be patient,” Sir Abbott said, an evil twinkle in his eye. The urges to beg disappeared from her mind. He pointed at Ayren. “Let’s start by trying out that throat, shall we?”

Ayren laid on her back, her neck off the edge of the bed. She opened wide and Sir Abbott put his dick into her mouth. Ayren had never had a dick in her mouth before, but instructions appeared in her mind about how to handle it. For now, it was important to just open wide and take it. Ayren opened, even as the cock filled her mouth. As he began to thrust forward, it pushed to the back of her throat, making her alarmingly close to choking on it. She quickly learned how to time her breathing about his thrusts, so he could fuck her face accordingly. She found that the cock didn’t taste different in the front or in the back. It tastes just as magnificent in either place.

Penelope, meanwhile, climbed onto Ayren, straddling her sister. Although Ayren’s view was blocked, she was pretty sure that Sir Abbott was playing with Penelope’s tits and she was kissing up and down his neck. Penelope was serving Sir Abbott visually, while Ayren served him orally.

After a few minutes, Sir Abbott decided to pick a different hole—he had many to choose from. He put Penelope on her back and drilled into her pussy. Ayren decided—she believed on her own—to go suck on her sister’s tits, because Sir Abbott would like that. She frequently grinned up at Sir Abbott in between having Penelope’s sizeable tits between her lips.

Sir Abbott decided to give Ayren’s ass a try. He fucked her from behind, slapping her ass cheeks with an open palm frequently. Penelope laid on her back in front of Ayren. After first, Ayren wondered what she was doing. Then, Sir Abbott’s hand was on her neck and pushing her face downward. It wasn’t until Ayren’s face was almost in her sister’s pussy until Ayren had the idea that she should use her tongue on it. Penelope responded well, moaning in delight. Ayren looked up and saw Penelope playing with her own tits, a look of ecstasy on her face. The cock in her ass hurt and the pussy on her mouth was humiliating, but all that faded in importance next to the fact that Sir Abbott was enjoying himself.

Next, he laid on his back while both princesses used their mouth on his cock, frequently kissing each other with the dick between their lips. Again, Ayren didn’t know how to do anything, but whatever she set out to do she somehow knew how to do it just how Sir Abbott would want it.

After enjoying both mouths for a little while, Ayren decided to ride Sir Abbott. She straddled him, positioning her pussy above his cock, and gently maneuvered the head of his dick to her pussy lips. Just before she decided, impaling herself, Ayren thought once more that this was the last shred of virginity she had. Didn’t this seem odd? The thought was gone after another moment and Ayren impaled herself on Sir Abbott’s cock.

Riding him felt amazing, with the sort of fullness inside her that she had never felt before. Sir Abbott was enjoying the sensation, but Penelope had straddled Sir Abbott’s chest. Her tits were a better view. Sir Abbott repeatedly smacked the massive tits. With each strike, Penelope moaned like a whore. The idea came into Ayren’s mind to pull her sister’s long braid. She did and Penelope’s head lurched backward. The slapping continued on her tits—as did the moaning.

“God, I love those fucking tits,” Sir Abbott sat with another smack.

“Good,” Penelope giggled. “Their your property, sir. Yours to smack. Yours to play with. Yours to fuck. Yours to cum on.”

“What a great idea,” Sir Abbott said. Suddenly, it occurred to Ayren to dismount from the cock. She climbed off, as did Penelope. The younger princess dropped to her knees on the ground, grabbed her tits in her hands, and presented them. Sir Abbott stood in front of her and Ayren reached out, taking the firm, throbbing cock in her hand. She began to jerk it.

“Look at that little whore down there, sir,” Ayren purred in Sir Abbott’s ear. “Look at those perfect tits. Look how happy she is to be used like a little fucking doll.” As she spoke, Ayren pressed her own body against his back, letting him feel her own tits and hips on his skin.

“She’s a canvas, sir,” Ayren said. “Paint her. Fucking cover her. She wants it.”

“I want it!” Penelope echoed, eagerly.

“You own us,” Ayren said. “You own this whole fucking Kingdom. You are the King. You are the King and we are your filthy princess playthings.”

Sir Abbott came. Penelope squealed in delight as the first stream struck her bare tits. Ayren kept jerking, covering her sister’s chest in the dragon-slayer’s cum. Ayren’s mind was suddenly full of ectasy herself. Penelope gasped from her position on her knees. Sir Abbott lifted his head and started bellowing, “Yes! Yes!” The words came out of Ayren and Penelope’s mouth in perfect sequence, even as Ayren continued to jerk him off.

They continued in synchronized heaven, all three feeling the orgasm pulse through their naked bodies. Finally, when Sir Abbott’s cum stopped, the three stopped screaming in unison. Ayren let her hand drop from Sir Abbott’s cock.

He smiled, looking at them. “Maybe I should have waited, but I don’t regret it. We’re going to do that a lot over the next year.” Ayren giggled, looking forward to the idea. Still, some part of her was aware that this wasn’t exactly the wedding night she had waited for, nor the best good that would do for her Kingdom. The virginity of both princesses was gone now. What did that mean for the alliances of the King?

Speaking of the King, Ayren’s own words came back to mind. She had told Sir Abbott that he was the King, right before he came, but he wasn’t. For that matter, where was the King? Ayren had barely thought about her father in the last week.

Those thoughts disappeared as a new, kinky idea popped into her head. Sir Abbott lowered himself onto a chair, watching the princesses. Ayren looked down hungrily at the white, hot cum on her sister’s chest. She lowered herself down onto her knees. Penelope met her hungry eyes with her own sultry expression. Ayren leaned in, kissing Penelope’s soft lips with tender passion. She repeated, then worked her way down to Penelope’s neck. She descended further, kissing down the collar bone and further still, until Ayren felt the cum on the rising swells of Penelope’s chest. She wrapped her lips around it as sucked, swallowing the cum down her own throat. Ayren continued, sucking all the cum off of Penelope’s tits. With the last bit, instead of swallowing she rose back to her feet, position her mouth above Penelope’s, and let the cum drip out. Penelope opened her eager mouth, accepting it and swallowing. She giggled, flashing a naughty smile.

“You bitches are sick,” Sir Abbott said, but his eyes were on fire with horny approval. He flicked one finger at Ayren. “Now go get my sweet tart. I’m gonna eat, then we’re going again.”

* * *

The princesses spent most of the next week as fuckdolls to the dragon-slaying, throne-sitting stranger. It was the most amount of time Ayren had spent with her sister in years. Together, they tackled his kinky, degrading fantasies with gusto.

Ayren tied her sister to the bedpost, whipped her tits with a riding crop, and then ate her pussy until she came. Then, she went over and sucked on Sir Abbott until he came in her throat.

The sponge bath returned, this time taking place in the King’s bath tub. Both royal whores had sponges, squeezing his muscles beneath the water and frequently taking trips to his cock. Eventually, Penelope climbed in and rode him to completion, while the bath waters spilled onto the tile floor.

Both princesses spent their share of time on the throne, riding Sir Abbott’s cock. Ayren spent a lot of it facing outward from the throne, riding with her ass. Penelope spent more time facing the throne, because Sir Abbott liked her substantial tits.

While the princesses still attended Sir Abbott at dinner, one sister usually spent the dinner on her knees beneath the table, while the other served food. Again, because of Sir Abbott’s appreciation of Penelope’s tits, it was usually Ayren beneath the table.

Over the next week, more servants began showing up. They were gorgeous women, some of which Ayren recognized from the town. The outfits they wore made the princesses’ two-piece gowns look modest. Most common were the golden tassels that were somehow affixed to the women’s nipples. However they stayed on, Sir Abbott frequently demonstrated how easily they could be pulled off. He fucked them too, but rarely the same one. As sexy as some of them were, Sir Abbott apparently loved the act of sexually dominating a princess—not to mention two at the same time.

Sometimes, after Sir Abbott came and Ayren swallowed, she thought about her father. Something was wrong, here. She had called Sir Abbott “King”, but she knew he wasn’t. He had fucked her, but she had always been told that this should be reserved for the wedding night. She was a respectable princess. She was being fucked like a whore. She loved it, of course, and eagerly bent over, spread her legs, opened her mouth wide, jerked whatever was in her hand, swallowed what was given to her, and begged for more. But wasn’t this too soon? These thoughts seemed to be more common when Sir Abbott was sleeping, fucking someone else, or otherwise occupied. When she was near him and he was focused on her, Ayren could only think about pleasing him. Once, it occurred to Ayren that she hadn’t even worn a piece of clothing for three weeks. As she was contemplating this, Sir Abbott noticed her ass and the thought disappeared from her mind. Instead, she bent over so Penelope could spank her ass with a paddle for Sir Abbott’s amusement.

Also strange, Ayren seemed to be misremembering things, especially in regard to the dragon. Once, she noticed one of the servants as a daughter of one of the knights that had perished fighting the dragon. Ayren had seen her weep when news of the soldiers’ deaths had came back. As such, Ayren offered her condolences to the girl, but the girl was confused.

“My father’s not dead,” the servant girl said. “They were trapped out there by the dragon, but didn’t die. He’s home right now.”

Ayren thought back to the news, which had been delivered by a survivor of the battle. He described in detail several deaths due to the fire—not the non-battle that the servant girl described. Was this soldier from a different group? Or had they become trapped after the battle? Ayren was confused. She thought about going to investigate further with others around the town, but about that time Sir Abbott woke up and it occurred to Ayren to go give him a good blowjob. The blowjob had turned into fucking once Sir Abbott woke up more, with the bed sheets wrapped around her wrists to lock her in place. After he came all over her face, Ayren had trouble remembering what she had been thinking about beforehand.

Ayren once approached Penelope, asking her sister if she thought anything was strange.

“About what?” Penelope asked, earnest curiosity on her face.

“About Sir Abbott,” Ayren said.

“You’re right. It’s been almost two hours since his last orgasm. Should we go offer ourselves to him?”

“Not that,” Ayren said. “About how he came.” She heard the words from her mouth and quickly revised. “How he arrived. The dragon. Father. Everything.”

“No,” Penelope shook her head. “What does it matter? We’re his princess playthings.”

“But do you wonder where Father is?”

“No,” Penelope said with a shrug.

“Have you noticed that much of what the dragon destroyed isn’t actually destroyed?”

“No,” Penelope shrugged again.

“Nothing seems strange to you?” Ayren said.

Penelope thought about it a moment, pursing her lips hard as she did so. Finally, Penelope shook her head and said, “No, none of that really bothers me. Can we go find Sir Abbott and see if he’ll fuck us?”

Ayren thought for a moment, then decided that did sound like an agreeable plan of action. Sir Abbott must have thought the same, because when the princesses presented themselves before him, he quickly grew hard. The princesses both independently decided to kneel and beg for a good throating. Sir Abbott took turns with each sister’s mouth, aggressively thrusting for a few pumps, then changing to the other’s mouth. After several minutes of this back and forth, Sir Abbott grew tired of “doing the work himself”. He sat down on a chair and let the sister’s do it themselves. Ayren sucked on his balls, while Penelope choked herself on his cock until he spewed in her mouth.

Whatever strange things were going on in the royal city, Ayren thought, this had to be one of the most fun.

* * *

After nearly a month, Sir Abbott finally gave some clothes to the princesses to wear. Each sister received five golden bands, each with a small metal ring on them. The largest went around their necks, where it clasped and locked. The other four went on the girls’ wrists and ankles. He installed similar rings at various points throughout the royal quarters, each with a chain attached to it.

Ayren quickly understood how pragmatic of an idea this was and applauded Sir Abbott. It gave him the ability to quickly shackle a princess in place at any of the anticipated places. Given Sir Abbott’s appreciation of fucking a subdued princess, this made for a very efficient system of pleasing him. He also made fresh use of the collar around their necks, frequently attaching a chain to them and leading them around as sort of prized pets.

For Ayren, it felt good to be on display in this way. She had always found it very important to maintain modesty outside the walls of the palace, but she hadn’t left the palace. She was well within her own home, and therefore it was great fun to be leered at by men and to be a visual demonstration of the importance and power of Sir Abbott.

Occasionally, Sir Abbott would sit on the throne and give orders on a few items that required his attention. When that happened, Ayren and Penelope would kneel to the left and right, their neck chains in the grip of Sir Abbott and their bodies on display for the realm. Occasionally, when Sir Abbott grew hot and bothered or really wanted to show off to the people, one of the sisters would suck him off. While all the men seemed to appreciate the view, no one dared touch the princesses themselves. The realm still maintained peace and the men kept a respectful distance.

Of course, Sir Abbott fucked more than just the princesses. He had filled the palace with the most beautiful women in the land, wearing the least clothing. While he enjoyed defiling princesses the best, it was not beneath him to stuff a serving wench if her body was tight enough. On the days when Sir Abbott played with the commoners, Ayren and Penelope were freer to wander the palace.

On one such day, Ayren wandered her way through the hallways, doing her best to ignore the overlapping, whore-like moaning that echoed through the palace from the Master bedroom. She found her way into the war room, where trophies from her family’s legacy mounted the wall. It was here that she had first met Sir Abbott. It was here that Sir Abbott and The King had made a bargain.

Ayren looked up at the centuries of artifacts, highlighting the great acts her family had accomplished. The sword that her great grandfather had carried into the battle of Antimont. The tusks of a sabrecat from the Voyage Beyond The Pale. Finally, Ayren’s eyes landed on the pair of dragon scales near the roof. They were old, nearly five centuries by now. They were from the last known dragon in the land—or had been, before this one had come out of the mountains.

Ayren remembered hearing the stories of the dragons from her father when she was young. They were supposed to be noble creatures—predators at the top of the food chain, but reclusive. They killed to eat, but never just to kill. Ayren had believed it, right up until the dragon had emerged from the mountains. Of course, the dragon that had attacked her land hadn’t exactly been out to destroy, either. It hadn’t torched Broad Lake. Half the soldiers who were considered dead weren’t. In fact, what had the dragon done?

Ayren listened again. The commoners were still getting fucked by Sir Abbott. She could hear the squealing of fun. A touch of jealousy etched its way into Ayren’s mind, but she pushed past it. She could get fucked later. She needed to follow this thread while it was still in her mind.

Ayren descended the stairs, feeling the cool air on her naked skin. Occasionally, the golden bands on her wrists scraped against the wall, making an echoing noise. The royal library was within the palace, thankfully, near the front gates. Ayren stepped inside, lit a lantern, and began to search. She had spent a lot of time in this room in her youth, where it had functioned as a sort of school for her and Penelope. She knew its organization well.

Ayren quickly found a history of her family. The last half of the book was blank pages, to be filled with stories of the generations to come. The first half had been written over centuries. Ayren found the story of the last dragon battle. The dragon had been holed up in a cave to the north, where it ate the sheep of the nearby shepherds. The King at the time had led a hunting party and they had slayed it, peeling the scales from its corpse and taking them as trophies. Ayren frowned. It didn’t sound like the aggressive behavior of the dragon that had attacked.

Ayren moved through other books, looking in ancient legends and dusty volumes of history. Everyone agreed that dragons existed, but the behavior of them was rarely documented the same. Sometimes they were bridges to the other side of the universe, literal gateways to heaven. Other times they were aloof hunters, swooping, eating, and fleeing. Ayren found very few instances of them actively attacking villages and those were only in the very oldest and least reliable of volumes.

So the dragon that had attacked her hadn’t behaved like most historical records. That being said, there was very little consensus about what this dragon had done at all. What had started as terrifying stories were now being withdrawn from. A disturbing shape was beginning to take form in Ayren’s mind.

“Princess Ayren?” a voice said. Ayren jumped, nearly dropping her lantern. She turned. One of her father’s advisors—whom Ayren hadn’t really seen very much since Sir Abbott came around, now that she thought about it—was standing in the door. He held four or five books in his hands. He set them down on a shelf and peered through the darkness.

“It’s me,” Ayren said.

“What are you doing?”

“Reading,” Ayren said simply. “I… I was just reading. What are you doing?”

“Getting books for your father,” the advisor said.

“What?” Ayren said. She set her book back on a shelf and stepped more into view. Naturally, the advisor’s eyes dropped to Ayren’s naked body. Neither addressed this, taking it just as the natural order of things in the palace.

“You’ve seen my father?” Ayren demanded.

“Well yes,” the advisor said. “I deliver many meals, reading materials, and anything else he needs.”

“Where is he?” Ayren said.

“Well he’s in the guest corridors,” the advisor said. “He’s resting.”

Ayren realized that she knew he was there. She also knew that her instinct was to ask to see him, but for some reason this thought couldn’t actually take form in her brain. She stood, confused for a moment. Finally, she asked a different question.

“Is he well?” Ayren said.

“Quite,” the advisor nodded. “He asks after you and your sister and the Kingdom. We tell him that all is well.”

“Do you… do you tell him about my sister and I and Sir Abbott?” Ayren asked, the seeds of shame early in her voice.

“No, no,” the advisor shook his head. “Sir Abbott does not wish this. Sometimes he tries to get out of the guest corridors, but Sir Abbott has ensured that he remain there. For his own safety, of course.”

“Of course,” Ayren nodded. She was glad to hear that her father was doing well. She was aware that under normal circumstances, guards keeping him in a room would be alarming, but some part of Ayren believed that this was for the best of the King.

Then, Ayren thought again about that first night of fucking Sir Abbott. She remembered pressing her naked body against his back, jerking his cock off over Penelope’s tits. She remembered whispering in his ear, “You are the King. You are the King and we are your filthy princess playthings.” She knew then and she knew now that he wasn’t actually the King. But still, he was ruling the Kingdom. He was ruling the Kingdom and the actual King was locked in the guest corridors.

So why had she told Sir Abbott that he was the King, if she knew in her heart that he wasn’t? For that matter, why had Ayren fucked him? Her virginity had been for her husband. Her virginity was for the good of the entire country. Yet, she was a royal whore for the man who sat upon her father’s throne.

Suddenly, it occurred to Ayren that after fucking some commoners, Sir Abbott might be in the mood for some princess pussy. Ayren hurried past the advisor, saying, “I’m sorry! I must go serve Sir Abbott’s wonderful cock!”

She hurried to the King’s quarters, finding Penelope hurrying there as well. They had both apparently gotten the same idea at the same time. It was good timing, too, because Sir Abbott was kicking out the commoners after fucking them. Sir Abbott had gotten off over a bar maid’s face, so he needed warming up again, which was perfectly fine with the princesses. They decided to put on a show for him, kissing each other tenderly, rubbing their tits against each other, and running their hands over each other’s curves. All the while, they cast sultry, inviting glances back towards Sir Abbott, who watched with admiration.

After he got hard again, the girls crawled on the ground to his cock, serving it with eager mouths. While one sucked, the other talked, telling Sir Abbott about how powerful, sexy, and important he was. This was often juxtaposed against how filthy of whores the princesses were. For example, while Penelope sucked, Ayren told Sir Abbott, “You’re a colossus of a man, with a delicious, amazing cock. I’m such a filthy little royal slut that I can’t help but suck you dry. Please let me suck your powerful, Kingly cock. Pleeease.” Sir Abbott honored Ayren’s request, trading out Penelope’s mouth for Ayren’s. While Ayren sucked, Penelope began her own dirty talk, which admittedly focused more on her “big whore tits” than Ayren’s had.

After using most of the combinations of filthy language available in their language, Sir Abbott decided to fuck a pussy. He laid Ayren on her back in the bed and drilled into her pussy. Ayren opened her legs wide, feeling the fullness of that cock that she loved so much pound into her. Penelope dangled her tits over Ayren’s face and Ayren sucked on them, knowing that Sir Abbott liked to watch this.

After fucking her for a few minutes, Sir Abbott was apparently ready to blow. He pulled out, ordering Penelope to finish him. Penelope jerked him off, only needing a few strokes before Sir Abbott came. Ayren felt the hot cum landing on her bare chest, but her face was still full of Penelope’s tits, so she couldn’t actually see it landing. Sir Abbott had gotten off a few times with the commoners, so there wasn’t a lot of cum, but both princesses still felt Sir Abbott’s pleasure echoing in their own mind through his orgasm.

Sir Abbott eventually sat back in the chair and Penelope and Ayren both realized in the same moment what he wanted them to do now. Ayren remained on her back, while Penelope laid on top of her. Their lips kissed passionately, while Penelope rubbed her massive tits over Ayren’s body, letting the cum lubricate their embrace. Ayren didn’t remember how she knew that Sir Abbott liked lesbian acts covered in cum, but she did know it and it was important to please Sir Abbott in every way.

After a few minutes, Penelope decided to suck off the remaining cum from Ayren’s body, which involved a long, exploring tongue over Ayren’s body.

All three decided that it was enough at about the same time. Sir Abbott stood, Penelope climbed off of Ayren, and Ayren climbed off the bed. Ayren pulled back the covers while Penelope hurried to get one more glass of wine, because she suddenly realized that Sir Abbott was in the mood for that. Both princesses stood at attention while Sir Abbott drank the glass, then laid back in his bed. He smiled at the sisters.

“You are by far my favorite fucktoys I’ve ever had,” Sir Abbott said. Both princesses giggled with the compliment. Sir Abbott continued, “Sexy, virgin princesses. Well… formerly virgin. But with great bodies, pretty faces, and kinky as fuck.” He laughed softly to himself and said, “Well… now you’re kinky as fuck.” Both princesses decided to go away as Sir Abbott drifted to sleep.

Pleased that their lover was pleased, the princesses returned to their bed chambers. As Penelope went to sleep, her mind was full of memories of kinky, degrading sex that she loved so much. As Ayren went to sleep, she was thinking about dragons.

* * *

Ayren’s mind—when not filled with thoughts about how to best pleasure Sir Abbott—began to form a plan. She needed to know the truth. She thought she understood what had happened, but needed confirmation.

One night, after their kinky fucking went late into the night, Ayren knew Sir Abbott would sleep late. It was the opportunity she needed.

While Penelope went to return to bed (after washing off her chest, of course), Ayren went straight to her wardrobe. It had been a long time since she had covered her body, but outside the palace was a different story. She grabbed a thick cloak. Rains came in the night, so it was possible she might get wet. She wrapped herself in the cloak and donned riding boots. Then, she hurried down the stairs.

The guards were at the main gate, but the reduced security force meant that the kitchen entrance was unguarded. Ayren slipped out, lifting the hood over her head so she would not be seen. She made her way to the stables, found her horse, and quietly led it out into the street.

She was stopped at the city gate by the guards. She lowered her hood and said, “I am the Princess Ayren. Let me out.”

The guards saw her face and their eyes immediately dropped down to her body. They had seen much of her while on display next to the throne. Still, the order carried weight and they opened the city gate. Ayren rode out.

Light mists fell from the sky, making her cold, even despite the cloak. Ayren thought about how much Sir Abbott would appreciate her perky, pointed nipples right now, although he always liked Penelope’s tits more. The cloak was her only clothing and Ayren quickly realized that her spread legs on the horse meant direct contact with her pussy. The bumping up and down made her think about how great it would be to get railed by Sir Abbott right now, but that wasn’t why she was out here. She was here for the truth.

It was a short ride. She came over the hill, much the same way she had a month prior. The corpse of the dragon still rested on the Earth, virtually identical to how it had been that day. The grass had begun to regrow, but most of it was still dead and blackened.

Ayren dismounted the horse. The mists were slowing, so Ayren dropped the hood back off her head. As she stepped closer, part of her doubted her own suspicion. The dragon was massive and was very clear evidence in front of her own eyes. The fact that it was the same a month later didn’t matter either. The scales in the war room had stayed for centuries. Still, Ayren had to know for sure.

She stepped closer, doing her best not to imagine the dragon above the city, breathing fire and wreaking havoc. It was a powerful beast and they would have had no chance.

Ayren approached the belly, where the thick scales thinned somewhat. She reached out a tentative hand, trying to tell herself that the fears she felt were unfounded. It was dead. It wouldn’t attack her. It wasn’t just pretending so that it could catch her unaware. Ayren steeled herself further and moved her hand to touch it.

Her hand passed through the belly. She felt nothing but air. Ayren pulled back her hand, then tried to touch the dragon again. Nothing. She stepped forward, moving inside the dragon itself. Once inside, she could see the dragon was completely hollow, just a shape of twisted light.

“It was never here,” Ayren muttered. “It didn’t destroy Broad Lake. It didn’t kill any knights. It wasn’t coming to kill us.”

Ayren stepped outside the dragon again, looking at the impressive illusion. “It was a ruse,” she said softly. She hurried to the horse and started riding back. As she rode, her rage grew.

* * *

It was morning when she got back. Ayren found Sir Abbott on her father’s throne, lounging with his pants around his ankles. From the long, brown braid flowing down her back, Ayren could tell that the girl kneeling and sucking him was her sister Penelope.

“You left the palace,” Sir Abbott observed. “I suppose I never specifically set your will against it, but I do find this alarming.”

“There was never any dragon,” Ayren said, the venom dripping from her voice. “Your bargain was a sham!”

“Not quite,” Sir Abbott said, raising a finger. “The bargain was not that I would kill the dragon, it wasn’t that there even was a dragon. It was that your people would be safe from the dragon. And they are. Sure, it was a ruse, but I kept my side of the bargain.” He flashed a ‘you caught me’ grin and added, “How’d you find out?”

“None of the dragon’s destruction lasted. And the dragons of old weren’t aggressive like that. So I went to see the body. It’s just air.”

“Well not just air,” Sir Abbott shrugged. “It is actually a rather complex illusion spell. It’d have to be to last for a full year after casting.” He frowned slightly. “I also think I should get some credit for managing the panic. It’s very easy to convince people of what their senses are already seeing, but I had to cast a lot of illusions to make sure the news traveled in the right way. The people of Broad Lake knew their town hadn’t burned, so they saw the dragon to the south of them. That way they couldn’t spread the word. The soldiers that came were led on a chase by a dragon halfway across the land, while the scouts saw them devoured. It was a lot of work to keep it all straight!”

“Until you had the will of the people?” Ayren said.

“Yes,” Sir Abbott nodded. “Once I had their wills, everyone could just go home and forget. I’m not a cruel man, princess. I don’t want to kill anyone. I just want to have some fun, give the land a boost, and go on my way.” He pursed his lips, looking her up and down. Now that she was back in the palace, she had shed the cloak. She wore only the golden bands—she knew he liked her in it—but her face was etched with a deep frown.

“Royals are hard to manage,” Sir Abbott said. “The King himself, I could never control. Not here and nowhere else I’ve been. The magic came from him and his will is his own. But his heirs? Their wills were traded by the King still, but they’re closer to the source. That means it takes time to be fully brought under control. Little things, like wardrobe or serving dinner, I can get away with pretty immediately. But those hard-formed beliefs of yours? I need to wait for total control. In the past, I’ve found that seven days seems to be the magic number, but…” He gestured down to Princess Penelope, still sucking away happily. “…you two are just so damn fuckable. I couldn’t wait. I shaved off a few hours. It seems like I got your sister fine, but I guess that means I couldn’t quite conquest those firm beliefs of yours. Just out of curiosity, tell me what they are.”

Ayren was still full of rage, but Sir Abbott had given an order and that meant Ayren should obey.

“My father is the King,” Ayren said. “My virginity is for my husband. And that husband should be made for the betterment of the land.”

Sir Abbott nodded thoughtfully. “Noble,” he observed. “You’re a very noble princess. You’ll be a good Queen some day. But first, I’m going to have my fun with you.” He reached down, patting Penelope’s head. With a ‘pop’ noise, she detached her suctioned lips from Sir Abbott’s cock. She took her position as a display piece on the side of the throne, smiling obliviously to her sister.

“So here’s what’s going to happen,” Sir Abbott said. “You believe that I am in contradiction with your deeply held beliefs. I’m going to explain to you how I’m not. Once that’s done, you’re going to be my royal whore again and we’re going to spend the next eleven months defiling you in any way that I want. Before I leave, I’ll make everyone in town forget what you look like naked, I’ll make you forget that you’re not a virgin, and your life will continue as it had before I showed up. Does that sound good?”

Ayren bit her lip. She knew she was angry still. She knew this man had tricked everyone. She knew that she shouldn’t agree. But still, that sounded great. She loved being fucked. She loved the kinky shit she did for him. She loved being defiled, even if she knew she shouldn’t.

“Yes,” Ayren said softly.

“Great,” Sir Abbott smiled. “Let’s start with your father being King. That’s an easy one. Your father is still King, I’m just filling in while he rests. He’s downstairs, taking a year hiatus from his responsibilities. He’s well fed, has plenty of books to read, and no responsibilities. While he rests, the responsibilities of Kingship rest in me. Therefore, I’m a sort of fill-in King, but your father is still the real King. Does that settle that?”

Ayren smiled widely. Of course! Her father was King, but Sir Abbott could still sit on his throne, be called “King”, and rule the nation while he rested. Suddenly, her confusion over her dirty talking that first night disappeared.

“Yes,” Ayren grinned. “Thank you for explaining it to me!”

“Of course,” Sir Abbott said. “Now, let’s talk about your virginity. Your problem there comes from the assumption that your future husband will want you to be a virgin more than anything. This assumption is inherently flawed. What your man will want more than anything is kinky, depraved sex. Yes, you’re not technically a virgin, but the training that I am giving you now is so much more valuable to your future marriage than virginity could ever be. In effect, I am giving you an advantage over those virgins who don’t even know how to gag on a cock.”

Ayren could see it now. How could any virgin hope to please their husbands if they didn’t even know how to give a blowjob while chained up, how to jerk his cock off, how to ride his dick with either a pussy or an asshole, or how to beg for more as he came all over their face? Ayren’s sexual experience would be pivotal in her marriage! She wasn’t a virgin, sure, but this was so much better than that.

“Oh, I see it now!” Ayren said.

“You even get a better advantage,” Sir Abbott said. “You’ll forget you’re not a virgin, but I’ll make sure you remember how to fuck like a whore. He’ll have the best of both worlds.”

“You’re so generous!” Ayren exclaimed. She wondered why she wasn’t on her knees, thanking him properly.

“Finally, let’s talk about the good of the land,” Sir Abbott said. “We’ve established that your virginity isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be, but I don’t think you’ve considered how being my whore had benefited your people. This past month has been a period of unparalleled prosperity. A total absence of crime, perfect crops, peace on all borders… all that I ask is for a couple of princess playthings to entertain me. By being my royal whore, you are ensuring prosperity for your people. You are serving them in a way that you’ve never been able to before.”

He was so right. Ayren was amazed at the opportunity she had to be a slut for the betterment of her people. Every cumshot, blowjob, hand job, anal thrust, and cock riding was all making sure that her people lived happy, healthy lives. How selfish could she be?

“Do you have any other concerns? Or do I have your will in my hand now?” Sir Abbott asked.

“My will is yours,” Ayren said. “My body is yours. My mouth, my ass, my pussy, my tits…” She paused, smiled, and added, “My sister’s tits too. I know you like them.”

Penelope, aware that she was being talked about, giggled from her position kneeling next to the throne.

“Well how about you behave like a good, responsible, proper princess,” Sir Abbott said, “and get over here and suck my cock.”

Ayren practically threw herself down to her knees in front of the throne. It was her father’s throne, but it was okay that he was sitting there for now. She sucked, pushing it further down her throat with each thrust. Her fingers fondled his balls and she thrust her face down on his crotch. She had to make the most of this opportunity to learn how to be a whore for her future husband. Sir Abbott moaned with delight. He tugged on Penelope’s neck chain and the younger, bustier princess sat on the throne next to Sir Abbott. He played with her tits while Ayren gobbled down his cock. With each gag that she pushed through, Ayren thought about how lucky she was to be serving her people in such a fun way. She looked up at the fill-in King and saw that Sir Abbott’s face was buried between Penelope’s tits. Ayren smiled.

She had eleven months to perfect how to fuck. She had eleven months to serve her people. She had eleven more months of being Sir Abbott’s royal whore—his princess plaything.

He came, she swallowed, and they went again.


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