xxxtyty

[xxxtyty]

Finally an audio for all the fakeboys♡

Think of it as hypnotherapy!!

as a fakeboy myself, I wanted to bring reality back to other fakeboys!

(TW: this is misgendering/detrans-kink friendly content. in no way is that a small warning, please be aware before listening.)

#detrans kink #audio

[xxxtyty]

Forest Nymph for The Queen’s Menagerie (part 1)

(Hermaphrodite, threesome, breeding, mpreg, fantasy, noncon)

In a grand, opulent palace, the air was thick with the scent of roses and the cacophony of laughter. The royal court, resplendent in their finest attire, milled about, their voices rising and falling like the tide. At the center of it all, a golden cage hung from the ceiling, its bars polished to a blinding sheen. Within the cage, a creature shifted uncomfortably, its emerald eyes darting about as if searching for a way out. It was small and delicate, its skin the color of spun gold and its hair a riot of leaves and vines.

“Happy birthday, my darling,” cooed the king, leading his wife in to see her new present, hung in a cage.

The queen's eyes widened in delight as she beheld the creature within the golden cage. It looked like a forest spirit, caught for royal amusement. She had never seen anything so exquisite.

"What a beautiful creature," she cooed, running her fingers over the smooth bars of the cage. "Is it not, dearest?"

The king smiled proudly, nodding in agreement. "Yes, my love. It's a forest spirit, caught by our best hunters. They say it's quite rare, and extremely difficult to catch. Isn't that right?" he asked, addressing the creature in the cage.

The forest spirit, still unused to being in the presence of so many people, trembled slightly at the king's words. It darted a suspicious glance at the royal couple.

"I-I am," it stammered.

“Look how cute it is!” The queen laughed. “Barely able to say a word!”

The king smiled at his wife's amusement, cold and calculating. “It has the figure almost of a human woman,” he continued.

The queen's gaze drifted back to the creature, and she couldn't help but agree. The forest spirit's lithe form was certainly alluring.

"How delightful," she mused, stepping closer to the cage. "I wonder... do you know how to dance?"

The forest spirit looked confused for a moment, unsure if the queen was asking it or not. It hesitated, then began to sway gently to an unheard melody, its movements graceful and fluid.

"Oh, how lovely!" the queen exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "Thank you my love, this is an incredible gift." She kissed her husband softly, but she had a hunger when she approached the cage again, running a hand over its thigh.

The forest spirit trembled, its eyes widening in fear. It tried to pull away, but the bars were too strong, and it could not escape.

"Oh, don't be shy," the queen cooed, reaching her hand through the bars to stroke the creature's cheek. "Youre just so lovely…”

The forest spirit flinched at her touch, but did not pull away. It closed its eyes, trying to will itself to disappear, to fade back into the forest it belonged to. The queen leaned in closer, just so the spirit could hear.

"You know," she whispered, "You can forget about that cold, dark forest. You will stay here with me, where it's warm and safe.”

The forest spirit wanted nothing more than to return to the forest, to its own kind, but the words the queen spoke echoed in its ears. The cage felt so cold, so confining, and the forest seemed so far away.

"I-I cannot," it stammered, its voice barely above a whisper. "I belong to the forest."

“How silly.” The queen teased. “The creature doesn’t know what’s good for them!”

She paused for a moment, looking the forest spirit up and down. It trembled under her gaze, its heart racing. The king smiled, watching this display of dominance between them. He could see where this was going.

The hand on the spirits thigh reached around to the rear, tugging suddenly and pulling the small figure to her, between the bars.

"No, my dear," the queen whispered, leaning in close, her breath hot against the creature's ear. "You belong to me."

She gripped the forest spirit tighter, pressing their bodies together, grinding her hips against it. The creature whimpered, feeling the queen's hardened arousal against its own soft, untouched flesh.

"Yes, that's it," the queen hissed, her fingers digging into the forest spirit's sides. "You feel so lithe..."She rocked their hips together, despite the cage between them.

“I wish to be closer,” she orders the guards, who quickly allow her into the cage, closing the door behind. The other royals at her birthday celebration watch on with curiosity.

The queen trails her fingers down the forest spirit's spine, her nails digging into its skin. The creature cries out in pain and pleasure, feeling so exposed, so violated. The queen leans in close, her lips brushing against its ear.

"You belong to me now," she whispers, her hot breath sending shivers down the forest spirit's body. "You will never leave this cage."

The forest spirit tries to pull away, but the queen's grip is too strong. Tears stream down its face as it looks at the king, pleading with him for help. But he only smiles, enjoying the show. The other royals watch on, some with amusement, some with disgust.

"Yes, that's it," the queen hisses, her breath hot against the creature's ear. "You feel so soft..." She presses her body harder against it, grinding her hips against the forest spirit's lower body. The creature whimpers in pain and confusion, feeling the queen's hardened arousal against its own soft flesh.

"Look at what you've done to me," the queen purrs, her hands roaming over the creature's body, possessively. "You've made me want you so much."

She pulls back, just enough to gaze down at the forest spirit with a predatory smile.

"Now, you will pleasure me," she says, her voice cold and commanding. "You will do as I say, and you will enjoy it. Because you belong to me now."

She pushes the forest spirit down to its knees.

"Yes, that's it," she breathes, her fingers pulling at the spirits fine hair. "Show me what you can do."

She lifts her skirts to expose a pussy, a hard and enlarged clitoris bulging.

"kiss it," she commands. "Lick it."

The forest spirit, tears streaming down its face, obeys. Its tongue flicks out, tasting the queen's saltiness, her skin, her musk. It feels so wrong, so dirty, but at the same time, it's the only thing it can do. It licks and sucks on her clit, trying to please her, to make her happy. The queen's hips buck against its face, her nails digging into its skull.

"Yes, like that," she moans, her voice ragged. "Oh, you're so good at that."

The forest spirit feels her body shudder beneath its touch, her thighs tightening around its head. It continues to lap at her clit, sucking and licking, trying to please her, to make her feel good. The queen's hands roam over its back, her nails digging into its skin.

"Ahh, yes," she moans, her hips bucking harder. "That's it, my pet. Show me how much you want me."

Suddenly the queen is crying out, the guards raising the cage back up into the air for her. Cum leaks all over the creatures chin.

"Oh, you've done such a good job," the queen breathes, her voice ragged. "Such a good, good..." she hesitates. “What are you down there?”

The spirit looks up, unsure.

“Do you have a pussy? A cock?” The Queen taunts. “Let me inspect you for myself.”

Her fingers dig into the spirit's hair, forcing its head upwards. The Queen leans down, her breath hot against its ear. The spirit feels her searching fingers explore its body, teasing and probing. It flinches as her fingertips brush against its own sensitive nipples.

“Sensitive like a woman I see…. So full, but flat…”

She trails her fingers down, feeling the soft skin of its stomach, its hips. She pushes its legs further apart, revealing its private parts. The spirit looks down, embarrassed, as the Queen inspects it.

"What do we have here?" she purrs, running a finger along the length of the creature's small shaft. "A cock?”

The spirit flinches as she takes its cock in her hand, stroking it slowly. "But it's not very big... Is that all you have to offer me, my pet?"

She explored further, gasping with delight.

"Oh, this is... interesting." The Queen's voice takes on a curious tone. "And you have a hole here... Just like a woman..."

She pauses, looking at the spirit with a mischievous glint in her eye. "Tell me, pet... Have you ever been fucked before?"

The spirit shakes its head, unable to speak. The Queen laughs, a cruel sound. "Oh, well then... you're in for a treat. Which do I use first…” she wonders aloud.

The Queen straddles the spirit's sex, her long, powerful legs spread wide. She takes its cock in her hand, guiding it toward her dripping wet sex. The forest spirit looks up at her, terrified and aroused at the same time.

"Oh, you're going to feel so good inside me," she says, her voice husky. "But first..." She leans down, taking the forest spirit's cock into her mouth, sucking hard. The creature arches its back, gasping as pleasure washes over it. The queen's tongue flicks against its sensitive skin, and she expertly works its length with her hand. She pulls back, her lips only wrapped around the head of its cock, and looks at the forest spirit with a wicked grin, standing back up over the spirit.

"Tell me, my pet... what do you want me to do with this?" She asks, slowly thrusting her hips forward, teasing the pathetic creature.

The forest spirit gasps, unable to speak. "Oh, you are so delicious," the queen purrs, positioning the creature beneath her, against the side of the cage.

She leans forward, her breasts pressing against the spirit's face, and guides it into her. It feels like being swallowed whole, the tightness overwhelming, the sensation of being consumed unlike anything it has ever known. The queen's hands grip its hips, her long fingers digging into its flesh as she begins to move, slowly at first, then faster and harder.

The spirit arches its back, trying to find purchase against the bars of the cage, its body jerking in time with the queen's movements. The pleasure is intense, almost too much to bear, and with each thrust, the queen's hips slam against its, driving the sensation deeper.

"Yes... yes... you like that, don't you?" the queen hisses, her breath hot against the spirit's ear. "You like feeling yourself inside me, don't you?" Her movements become more urgent, more desperate, as she nears her climax. The spirit can feel the muscles in her cunt quivering, her breasts heaving with each ragged breath.

"Oh, my pet," she groans, throwing her head back. "You're going to make me come... so hard..."

Her words send a shudder through the forest spirit. The sensation of being inside her, of being wanted, is overwhelming. The creature's own pleasure builds to a fever pitch, and it can feel itself getting closer, closer...

The queen's movements speed up, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The spirit's cock throbs within her, seeking release. Their bodies move together in perfect harmony, the cage walls rattling with each thrust.

"Ahhhh!" she cries out, her voice echoing through the clearing. Her hips buck violently against the spirit, and with a powerful, primal moan, she comes, her inner muscles squeezing tightly around the creature's cock.

The forest spirit feels the wave of pleasure wash over it, as if every nerve ending in its body has been set ablaze. It thrusts deep inside her, feeling the walls of her cunt massage its cock, and finally releases, filling her with its seed. The sensation is overwhelming, intense, and it feels disgusted by the mess… but also incredibly satisfied.

The queen's grip on its hips tightens, her nails digging into its flesh as she rides out the aftershocks of her orgasm. Finally, she slows her movements, stilling herself on top of the spirit. She leans forward, pressing her lips against its ear.

"You did well, my pet," she whispers. "You've pleased me so much." Her breath tickles the spirit's skin, sending a shiver down its spine. She pulls back, smiling wickedly as she watches the spirit's cock slide free of her.

The courtiers at the birthday party applaud as the guards lower the cage.

"Now," the queen says, "I believe my husband should return the favor for you bursting inside me without permission.” She says wickedly.

The spirit's eyes widen as the queen steps back, revealing the king approaching the guilded cage.

"Are you ready for your part, my love?" the queen asks with a sultry smile. The king's expression is a mix of anticipation and curiosity, his gaze taking in the cage and the forest spirit within.

The guards unlock the cage and swing it open, the king stepping inside the moment the queen exits.

"Well, well," the king says with a chuckle, "it seems my wife has been enjoying herself quite a bit." He pauses, taking in the sight of the spirit's naked form. "I must say, you're quite an impressive specimen."

The king steps closer, his gaze trailing up and down the spirit's body. He reaches out and grasps a full breast, squeezing with enjoyment.

“My wife did this for you, it’s only fair you return the favor with me,” the king chuckles, pushing his trousers down. “Kneel.”

The spirit does as it's told, kneeling before the king. It's eyes dart between the king's cock and the queen, still watching from the side. The king steps closer, grasping the spirit's hair roughly and pulling its head back.

"Look at me," he growls, his voice commanding. The spirit obeys, meeting his gaze. The king pushes the spirit's shoulders down, guiding his cock to the entrance of the spirit's mouth. He thrusts forward, forcing entry, and the spirit gags around him, tasting the saltiness of his skin.

The king begins to fuck the spirit's mouth, his hips moving roughly as he takes advantage of the helpless creature before him. The spirit's eyes water and it struggles for breath, but it cannot deny the king's dominance. It opens its mouth wider, taking more of him inside.

The queen watches from the sidelines, a wicked smile curving her lips. She runs her fingers through her hair, feeling the silkiness of it beneath her touch. She watches the spirit's breasts heave with each thrust, the nipples hardening to the touch of the cool air. She licks her lips, imagining what it would feel like to have the spirit's body pressed against hers once again.

“Slobber all over it. That’s right, pet.” The king smiles, thrusting harder, then pulling out completely.

He steps back, admiring the sight of the spirit's mouth, lips red and swollen from his attentions. The spirit gulps air, coughing as it tries to catch its breath. The king watches the queen, who nods encouragingly.

He chuckles as he grabs the spirit by the waist, pulling it back up against the cage. “Such a curvy creature, so strange you have a cock,” he teases, touching the small bulge in rhythmic motions.

The spirit whimpers, its hips moving involuntarily towards the touch. The king smiles cruelly.

"Do you like that?" he asks, moving his hand faster. "Do you like feeling my touch on your cock? You fucked my wife with that thing, it’s only right I get to touch it.”

The queen smiles, stepping forward. She reaches into the cage, and she runs her fingers through the spirit's hair, tugging gently. "Yes, my pet," she purrs, "let him fuck you as recompense for how you fucked me."

The spirit whimpers, arching its back as the queen's touch sends shivers down its spine. The king chuckles almost to himself. “With such a small member, I don’t know if it will be quite fair… you didn’t fuck the Queen as deep as I will fuck you.”

He lines himself up, pressing against the spirit's entrance. The spirit gasps, feeling the king's cock teasing, threatening it.

"Are you ready?" the king asks, his voice rough with desire.

The spirit shakes its head, tears streaming down its face.

"No," it whispers, "I am not ready. Please, have mercy."

The king's eyes narrow. “After all you did to my wife, NOW you want to stop?”

He thrusts forward, pushing inside the spirit. The spirit cries out, feeling the burning invasion. The king begins to fuck the spirit roughly, his hips moving in a brutal rhythm. The queen watches, her own desire growing as she watches the spirit being taken.

"Such a tight little hole," the king groans, his thrusts becoming even more forceful. "You must have been built for a cock like this." He glances at the queen, lust sparking in his eyes. "Don't you agree, my love?"

The queen nods, running her hands over her body. "Oh, yes," she whispers, "it's made for him. You belong to him now." She watches as the spirit's breasts bounce with each brutal thrust, the nipples hardening to the touch of the cool air. Her own desire grows, her fingers itching to touch herself as she watches the king claim the spirit's body.

The spirit gasps, feeling as if it's being split apart, the king's cock pushing deeper and deeper inside. Its own hips begin to move, meeting the king's thrusts in a desperate attempt to find some sort of relief. The cage creaks beneath them, the sound of metal on metal echoing through the chamber as the audience watches on, dining and laughing.

The king growls, his hands gripping the bars of the cage tightly. "You like that?" he asks, slamming into the spirit once more. "You like feeling my cock inside you?" With each thrust, the head of the creature’s cock is teased with the king’s pubic mound, getting harder again.

The queen watches, her breath coming faster. "Yes," she whispers, "let it feel it. Let it know what it's like to be fucked by something so much stronger than himself." She reaches between her legs, her fingers finding the hard nub of her clit. "Fuck it," she urges, "fuck it like it fucked me."

The king's thrusts grow more frenzied, his hips slamming into the spirit over and over. The spirit cries out, feeling like it's about to break apart. Its own hands claw at the bars of the cage, trying to find purchase as it's roughly used. The cage creaks and groans, the metal straining under the weight of their bodies. “Free me,” it gasps.

The queen laughs as she pulls he hand away from herself now, reaching through the bars of the cage again. “Awwww, you poor thing. Do you need someone to tease your small cock while you get abused?”

The spirit shudders, feeling the queen's fingers brush against its own cock. It's hard and throbbing, eager for release.

"Oh, yes," the queen says with a wicked smile, "I bet you'd like that, wouldn't you? To feel it touch you while he uses you like the little whore you are?" Her fingers wrap around the spirit's cock, stroking it roughly. The king's hips slam into the spirit again, driving his own pleasure deeper.

The spirit cries out, its body arching into the queen's touch. It feels as if it's being torn in two, the king's thrusts relentless and powerful. The cage creaks and groans, the metal straining under the weight of their bodies. The audience watches, some cheering, others laughing, as the spirit is brutally taken.

The queen smiles, her fingers moving faster on the spirit's cock. "That's it," she whispers, "You belong to me now, don't you?"

The spirit can feel the king's release building inside him, It’s hips arch up, meeting the king's thrusts as the creatures own orgasm takes it, its own seed spilling onto the queen's fingers.

The king growls and grunts, his hips bucking wildly, his body tensing as he spills his seed inside the spirit. “You’re taking my seed like a good little creature, aren’t you?”

The spirit gasps as it feels the king's release, the hot liquid filling it up. Its own body convulses in pleasure, and it cries out, arching its back into the queen's touch. The queen smiles, watching the two of them together, her own hand still stroking the spirit's cock.

"You like that?" she asks, her voice low and sultry. "You like feeling full of my husband's seed?" The king growls in response, his grip on the bars of the cage tightening. "You're mine now," the queen says, "just like the little whore you are for my collection.”

She leans in, her lips brushing against the spirit's ear. "And do you know what happens to all the little whores in my collection?" The spirit shudders, feeling the queen's hot breath against its skin.

"They get used," she whispers, "over and over again. They belong to me now, and I can do whatever I want with them." Her fingers slide down the length of the spirit's cock, teasing the sensitive tip. The spirit arches into her touch, helpless to resist.

“And you,” she continues, “are going to be bred at the same time as me.”

The king growls, pressing his hips harder against the spirit. "Youll have a child with my wife… and I’ll have a child with you.”

The spirit whimpers, feeling the king's words like a knife to its heart. It tries to pull away, but the queen's grip is too strong. "N-no," it stutters, "I can't..."

The queen's lips curl into a wicked smile. "Oh, but you can, and you will," she says, her voice low and dangerous. "You're mine now, and I'm going to make sure you know it."

Her hand continues to stroke the spirit's cock, teasing it relentlessly. The king's hips pump against it, driving the spirit further and further into submission.

The spirit looks around, panic starting to set in. The court is filled with leering faces, eager to watch the display of dominance and submission. They've all seen the queen's power before, but never like this. The king's seed throbs inside the spirit, claiming it for the both of them.

#fingring #mpreg #monsterfking??? #story #belonging #inside #fantasy noncon #fuckpet

[xxxtyty]

Prince-ish (part 3)

(Transphobia, noncon, wedding day, exhibitionism, free use, breeding)

She is awoken early the next morning, drug through the entire parade of beauticians and dressmakers and hairdressers.

Avalie's hand clenches into a fist as they pinch and prod and poke at her, each touch a fresh reminder of the night before. She can still feel Lord Vurren's fingers inside her, his cruel laughter ringing in her ears. She shudders, fighting back tears, as they drape her in layer after layer of silk and lace.

Her wedding dress is the most exquisite thing she's ever seen, a shimmering white gown that seems to glow in the morning light. But it exposes her in a way she doesn’t like… breasts overflowing and legs on full display.

It’s already high noon before she realizes it, and she’s taken to the courtyard outside, paraded past citizens and lower class people who stare at her body.

The sun beats down on her, making her already thin dress feel heavier, sticking to her skin. She clutches the bodice, feeling exposed and vulnerable. Every step she takes, she can feel the eyes on her, judging her.

Through the doors she is greeted by thousands of upper class, from neighboring countries and her own. They seem to smile wickedly at her as she walks down the aisle, lord Vurren right behind her.

She tries not to think about the way he touched her last night, the pain and pleasure intertwined. Instead, she focuses on the man at the end of the aisle, her soon-to-be husband… she can't help but feel that something is off. There's an air of possessiveness around him, like he already owns her.

The ceremony is a blur of ritual and tradition, and she realizes she has never seen a royal wedding before.

All of it seems normal enough, until the officiant tells Sir Gareth to “reveal your bride”. He steps forward, smiling, touching her dress in a way that felt uncomfortable. Finally, he pulls away, revealing all of her private places… nude before Sir Gareth and the entire crowd.

Her face burns with shame, but she forces herself to meet her soon-to-be husband's gaze. There is a darkness there, a hunger that she can't quite understand. As they exchange vows, she feels like she's being swallowed up by him, his words and intentions becoming muddled in her head.

“Now to consummate the marriage,” the officiant says, nodding to gareth. The princes looks confused and moves to back away, only for a few of the groomsmen to hold her down, shoving her to her knees.

“Princess Avalie, take Sir Gareth as your husband, to be your dominion, your dominant, your provider, and your superior.”

She whimpers, struggling against the men holding her, but it's no use. Gareth undoes his buttons on his trousers, revealing a hard erection.

He pushes her face down, forcing her mouth onto him. She gags, feeling his thick length stretch her throat. She can't breathe, but she can't stop herself from taking him deeper. She can feel him throbbing against her tongue, and it's almost as if he's mocking her.

The crowd begins to recite a vow, but she can’t make out the words. Gareth thrusts into her in time with the last words, precum forced to go down her throat.

She feels his hand on her head, guiding her movements as he uses her like a personal fleshlight. She tries to pull away, but he holds her firmly in place. Her vision begins to blur, and she feels like she's going to pass out.

The crowd continues to chant their vow, their words echoing in her ears, drowning out the sounds of her own desperate gasps for air. Gareth's thrusts become more forceful, and she can feel him begin to release inside her. Finally, he pulls out.

The men hold her still as she almost blacks out.

"Now, Princess Avalie," officiant says, his voice cold and unyielding. "You are bound to Sir Gareth. You will obey him in all things. You are his property, his possession. Do you understand these words?"

She looks up at him, tears streaming down her face. "Yes," she whispers.

“Sir Gareth, you will be given the responsibility of this entire kingdom, as well as over the Princess, her property, and her heirs. You are expected to impregnate her. Do you understand these words?”

Gareth looks at Avalie, his smile sly. He nods. "I understand."

The crowd roars its approval, and Avalie is led away by the ladies in waiting. She is shaking, both from the force of Gareth's thrusts and from the realization of what she has just agreed to.

She is led mostly naked to a giant bedchamber she recognizes as her own… when she was Prince. The ladies in waiting bathe her deeply, scrubbing every crevice.

She's given a change of clothes, a silk and lacy nightgown thats sheer and hugs her body, accentuating her curves. It feels like a taunt, a reminder of what she is now. She looks in the mirror and sees the face of a married woman, her features soft and feminine.

She hears the door open and knows it's Gareth. Her heart races, and she tries to calm herself, taking a deep breath. He steps into the room, his expression predatory. She feels a shiver of fear run down her spine. Behind him are almost three dozen courtiers, all excited to watch what happens next.

Gareth closes the distance between them, his hand grasping her hip roughly. He pulls her against him, her body pressed tightly to his. She can feel his erection pressed against her through their clothes. He kisses her roughly, his tongue thrusting into her mouth. She tries to resist, but he's too strong.

“Lay on the bed,” he orders.

She does as she's told, lying down on the soft mattress. Gareth stands at the foot of the bed, watching her. The courtiers crowd around, eager for the show to begin. He undoes his trousers, revealing his erection once more. He climbs onto the bed, straddling her.

He pushes her legs apart roughly, and she feels his thick length press against her entrance. He looks down at her, his expression predatory. "You're mine now," he growls. "You'll take what I give you."

With a harsh thrust, he pushes inside her, filling her up completely. She gasps in pain, feeling stretched and violated. He begins to move, his hips slamming into hers in a brutal rhythm. The courtiers cheer him on, their voices echoing in the room.

She tries to focus on something other than the pain, but it's difficult when he's using her like this. His hands grip her shoulders, his nails digging into her flesh. He growls with each thrust, his face twisted in a mixture of pleasure and cruelty. She can feel him building up inside her, the pressure growing more intense with each passing moment.

Suddenly, he slaps her thigh, pulling out. “Roll on your stomach, whore.”

She does as she's told, feeling the cold sheets beneath her. He thrusts into her again, this time from behind. His hands move down her body, cupping her breasts. He squeezes roughly, pinching her nipples hard. The pain mingles with the pleasure, making her head spin.

The courtiers cheer them on, their voices echoing through the room. She tries to focus on something else, anything else, but she can't help but feel like an object, a thing being used for their amusement. Gareth's movements grow more brutal, his thrusts deeper. She gasps as he hits her spot, sending a wave of pleasure through her.

She realizes suddenly that some or the courtiers have taken to chanting… “breed her, breed her..”

The words jolt her back to reality, and she looks around wildly. Gareth is pounding into her, his breath hot on her neck. The courtiers are close, pressing in on them, their eyes hungry. She feels his hips begin to buck, and knows that he's about to come.

With a final thrust, he releases himself inside her, grunting in satisfaction. He collapses onto her, his weight pinning her to the bed. The courtiers cheer and applaud, their approval like a hot brand on her skin. She feels the warmth of his seed trickle down her thigh, and knows that she has just been bred. Her womb sucks wantingly at the seed.

Gareth rolls off her, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He looks down at her, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "That's a good girl," he purrs. "You'll make a fine broodmare." The courtiers laugh and jeer, the sound deafening in the small room.

It’s only a few moments before the royal physician steps forward with a few guards, who roll her back onto her back and tie her legs up to elevate her body, making the cum seep deeper into her.

She looks at Gareth, feeling a mixture of anger, shame, and fear. He smirks at her, his expression almost sympathetic. "Don't worry, my dear. You'll get used to it." The courtiers chuckle darkly, some of them making lewd comments about what she'll be like once she's been bred properly.

She tries to turn her head away, but one of the guards roughly pushes it back towards Gareth. "Look at him," he says, his voice cruel. "He owns you now. You'll obey him, you'll serve him, and you'll give him children." The courtiers nod in agreement, their faces twisted in sick pleasure.

As the physician continues his examination, she can't help but feel like a piece of meat being inspected for freshness. She tries to find some sign of humanity in Gareth's eyes, but all she sees is cold calculation and ruthless dominance. He's nothing more than a predator, and she's his prey.

The courtiers, on the other hand, seem to delight in her humiliation. They laugh and jeer, making lewd comments and gestures. One of them reaches out to fondle her breast, and she recoils instinctively. But Gareth only laughs, and the courtier withdraws his hand with a satisfied smirk. “For luck!” He declares. “Every member of court, please fondle the princess!”

The command spreads through the room like wildfire, and within moments, she's being touched and prodded by hands she doesn't recognize. Some are rough, leaving bruises and scratches, while others are surprisingly gentle. But it all feels the same: dehumanizing and degrading. She tries to shut her eyes, to pretend that this isn't happening, but she can't escape the heat of their bodies pressed against hers, the smell of their sweat and wine-soaked clothes.

Gareth watches her with a satisfied smile, his hands clasped behind his back. "See, my dear? This is what it means to be owned. I can do anything I want to you.”

The courtiers laugh and jeer, their hands roaming freely over her body. One of them leans in close, his hot breath tickling her ear. "You'll get used to it, little one. You'll learn to love it." She tries to turn her head away, but another hand presses her back into place.

Soon, they’re jeering Gareth, now the prince, to fuck his seed deeper.

The princess looks up at him, hate burning in her eyes. He smiles down at her, his lips curling into a cruel sneer. “We must satisfy our people!”

One of the courtiers steps forward, holding a crude wooden dildo. The princess tries to struggle, but the guards hold her tight. Gareth laughs and nods, granting his permission. The courtier positions the dildo at her entrance, and with a rough thrust, pushes it inside her. The princess screams in pain and humiliation as the crude object tears at her sensitive flesh. The courtiers laugh and cheer.

“Is this what it feels like to be a man, princess?” Gareth mocks.

The wooden dildo is roughly thrust in and out of her, each movement causing her to cry out in pain and humiliation.

“Can she take another?” A courier asks, pulling out a smaller but still substantial second dildo.

Gareth laughs, enjoying the show. He nods, granting his permission. The courtier positions the second dildo beside the first, slowly pushing it inside her as she squirms and writhes, trying to escape the agony.

“She can take two, that whore!” One cries in laughter.

The courtiers surround her, jeering and cheering as the two dildos pump in and out of her, stretching her to the breaking point. She can feel herself beginning to tear, blood dripping down her thighs. She tries to scream, but the sound comes out as a hoarse, broken whisper.

One of the courtiers steps forward, grinning maliciously. "Let's see how she handles this," he says, his voice laced with cruel amusement. He produces a third dildo, even larger than the first two, and presses it against her aching entrance. The princess whimpers in pain as the head of the dildo pushes against her stretched flesh.

Gareth laughs, finding this all tremendously amusing. "Go on, then," he says with a wave of his hand. "She's been such a good little slut. Let's see how much more she can take." The courtier thrusts the third dildo inside her, and she cries out in agony, feeling as if she's being split in two.

The courtiers cheer and jeer, their eyes gleaming with sick pleasure. Some of them step forward, taking turns thrusting their hips against her, grinding their groins against her as they force their weight onto the dildos buried inside her. The princess feels herself being crushed, her body pushed to its limits.

This goes on for hours, until the newly crowned prince waves them away.

#prince-ish #belonging #kdnprp #fingring #inside #mpreg #story #fantasy noncon #royalty kink

[xxxtyty]

Prince-ish (Part 2)

(Noncon, transphobia, man with vagina, sold off to the highest bidder (ish), arranged marriage)

The next weeks pass in a haze… constantly used and tormented by Lord Vurren until at one meeting, he suggested something that was so violent, so inexcusable, the prince has to half his ground.

“No.”

Lord Vurren raised an eyebrow. "You're saying no, Your Highness?" He drawled the words slowly, mockingly.

“It isn’t right, what you are doing. I don’t agree with your decisions, and it’s time I told you that.”

The room was silent for a long moment. Lord Vurren's expression darkened, and the air in the room seemed to grow heavy with tension. The courtiers shifted uncomfortably in their seats, unsure of what was about to happen.

Finally, Lord Vurren broke the silence. "Very well," he said, his voice cold and measured. He stands up silently, and glides to the doors, leaving.

The Prince can feel a sense of relief washing over him, but it's short-lived. At the end of the meeting, lord Vurren comes back with half a dozen men from the court; lords and knights and sires in their own rights.

“I have some damning information regarding our little “prince” here,” lord vurren mocks.

The advisors exchange glances, unsure what to make of this sudden turn of events. The Prince feels his heart race, his throat go dry.

“Guards,” Lord Vurren gestures and, as if rehearsed, they take a small knife and cut the princes expensive silk tunic apart, revealing a bound chest. “A woman, as I said.”

The men from the court exchange glances once more, the tension in the room palpable. The Prince tries to muster a protest, but his voice is mute as the guards continue to cut the binding around the Prince, a set of full, voluptuous breasts springing forth.

"He... he's not..." one of the knights stammers, his eyes darting between the Prince's face and the revealed chest.

“Not fit to rule,” aburren continues, smirking. “All our Princess is good for is finding herself a husband to replace herself.”

The room explodes into an uproar, some laughing, some shouting in disbelief. The Prince tries to stand, to protest, but the guards hold him down, their expressions unyielding. Lord Vurren steps forward, his face twisted into a sneer.

“We must set an advisor as the interim consort. I nominate myself. All those opposed?”

A few voices murmur their disapproval, but Lord Vurren silences them with a look. He struts over to the throne, taking his seat as if it were his by right. The Prince struggles against his captors, but they hold him fast.

"Your Highness," Lord Vurren says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You are hereby stripped of your title and authority. In your place, I shall rule this kingdom until such time as a new monarch is chosen." He leans back in his throne, steepling his fingers. “Go suit this woman in dresses, destroy to wardrobe of menswear she has. As punishment, she must be made to expose herself, so no one can imagine she is anything but the beautiful, pathetic woman she is.”

The Prince is dragged from the chamber, his face flushed with humiliation and rage.

As the guards strip him of his finery and force him into a dress, they taunt and jeer. They rip his favorite cloak in two and throw it to the floor, laughing as he struggles to cover his nakedness.

New dresses are so little fabric they barely cover him, a corseted form with sheer underwear and a shape to accent the chest. With hands bound, the princess is paraded through the palace.

The servants and nobles alike stare, gasping and pointing. Some are horrified, others laugh in derision. The princess tries to maintain some dignity, but it's hard when every step feels like an exposure.

Finally, they reach the throne room. Lord Vurren stands there, a smug expression on his face. "Your Highness," he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You look lovely. I'm sure you'll find a suitable husband soon enough."

—————-

The next few weeks is a flurry of suitors, all coming to visit and offer themselves to the court as her new husband.

The Prince, now known as Princess Avalie, is forced to watch from the sidelines as each man is brought before her, their eyes raking her body, their words honeyed and false. She feels as though she is little more than a prize to be won, a trophy to adorn Lord Vurren's mantle.

The days blur together in a nightmare of courtship and humiliation. She has become a symbol of Lord Vurren's power, a constant reminder to the nobles that their own positions are tenuous at best. But despite it all, there are moments when she catches a glimpse of something in the eyes of a suitor, something genuine and kind. These moments are fleeting.

One fateful day, an egocentric knight comes before the princess and Lord Vurren.

"I am Sir Gareth," he announces, "and I have come to claim you as my bride." His gaze sweeps over her, taking in every inch of her exposed flesh. "You are quite the beautiful prize, Princess Avalie," he says, a lewd smile curling his lips.

The other nobles titter among themselves, their approval of the knight clear in their expressions. But Lord Vurren's face remains impassive. "What do you offer, Sir Gareth?" he says, his voice cool.

Sir Gareth leans in, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "I offer you loyalty, my lord. And the promise of a long and prosperous reign." He winks at the princess, who feels her stomach churn. "And, of course, I shall care for your former charge with all the love and devotion she deserves."

Lord Vurren arches an eyebrow. "And what of your knightly vows, Sir Gareth? Do you not find it odd to offer yourself to a woman who was once a man?"

The knight laughs heartily. "Oh, I don’t see a woman playing dress-up as all that. She’s always been a woman. It’s admirable you put her in her place.”

"Indeed," Lord Vurren says, smirking. "Very well, Sir Gareth. I accept your proposal. You may take Princess Avalie as your bride." He turns to the princess, a cruel smile on his lips. "Your wedding will be tomorrow, and Sir Gareth will be the new prince of the land.”

As the knight struts away, a feeling of dread settles in Avalie's stomach. She knows that with Sir Gareth as her husband, her life will only become worse. But there is nothing she can do. Lord Vurren's word is law, and he has given her over to this arrogant knight.

That night, as she is locked in her bedroom that is almost as small as the bed she is chained to, she is awoken to a feeling between her legs.

She tries to push the intruder off, to beg to stop, but her voice is muffled by the gag in her mouth.

“Shh,” lord vurren whispers. “I came to see you one last time before you are given away.”

He climbs onto the bed, his body pressing against hers. His hands find their way to her breasts, squeezing roughly. She winces in pain, feeling the bite of his rings against her tender flesh.

"You'll always be mine," he whispers, his breath hot against her ear. "Even when he has you." He slides his hand lower, between her legs, his fingers finding the place where he knows she is most sensitive. "I'll make sure you remember me."

His touch ignites a fire within her, despite her best efforts to fight it. She arches her back, unable to control the moans that escape through the gag. Lord Vurren takes this as an invitation, his fingers moving faster, his thumb circling her clit.

"That's it, my pet," he whispers, his voice low and menacing. "Let yourself enjoy this one last time."

His touch becomes more urgent, more demanding. She feels herself growing closer to the edge, the need for release becoming all-consuming. But even as she arches her back, even as she gives herself over to the pleasure coursing through her veins, she can't help but feel a sense of despair.

Her body betrays her, responding to his touch despite her best efforts to resist. He laughs, low and cruel, and speeds up his movements, driving her closer and closer to the edge. She feels herself trembling, her muscles tensing, the knot in her stomach growing tighter with each passing second.

Just as she thinks she can't take it anymore, he pulls his hand away, leaving her gasping for air and aching for more. He leans down, his breath hot against her ear. "You’re mine, aren’t you? Nod.”

She shudders, unable to control her body's reaction to him. Her head nods slightly, her eyes filling with tears. "Yes," she whispers through the gag. "Yours."

Lord Vurren smiles, satisfied. He leans down, his lips brushing against her ear. "Good girl," he whispers. With that, his fingers thrust back into her.

She cries out, muffled by the gag, as his touch sends her spiraling out of control. He moves with a practiced ease, his fingers finding the perfect rhythm to drive her wild. Her body arches off the bed, her hips bucking against his hand. He growls, taking pleasure in her submission.

"That's it," he whispers. "Give in to it. You belong to me." His other hand finds its way up her leg, between her spread thighs, and he circles her clit with his thumb, matching the rhythm of his fingers inside her.

Avalie gasps, her hips bucking wildly against his touch. "Please," she whimpers through the gag. "Please, stop." But she knows it's a lie. She doesn't want him to stop. She needs him. Needs this release.

Lord Vurren smiles, his breath hot against her ear. "No," he growls. "I'm not done with you yet." His fingers move faster, his thumb digging deeper. She arches her back, her body tense with the effort to contain the building pressure inside her. Her nails scrape against the bed sheets, leaving long, ragged marks in the fabric.

"You're going to come for me," he whispers, his voice rough and demanding. "You're going to remember this moment, every time he fucks you, every time some maid washes your pussy clean." His fingers move faster, his thumb circling her clit in a relentless rhythm. "You're going to remember who you belong to.”

She cries out, her body arching off the bed, her back bowing under the force of her orgasm. He presses his fingers deeper, holding her there, riding out the wave of pleasure. She twitches and shudders, her body spent, her mind reeling. He leans down, his lips finding her ear once more.

"Now, rest well, my pet. Tomorrow, you'll be married. And even though he'll own you, I'll still be here, watching over you."

His words send a shiver down her spine. She knows he's right. Even though she'll be married, she'll always belong to him. And as she lies there, exhausted and sated, she can't help but wonder what other twisted games he'll have in store for her in the future.

#belonging #kdnprp #fingring #inside #story #prince-ish #royalty #cnc

[xxxtyty]

Prince-ish (part 1)

(Noncon, power struggle, transman, transphobia, fantasy)

The sun danced lazily through the delicate sheers, casting dappled shadows across the ornate tapestries that adorned the royal chamber. The scent of lavender and honeysuckle wafted in through the open window, mingling with the salt tang of the sea. It was a perfect summer's day, and the Prince sat back in the warm tub of water, toying with the rose petals that floated along the surface

He let out a contented sigh, reveling in the quiet solitude of the moment. It was a rare occasion indeed when he was able to indulge in such a simple pleasure without the constant scrutiny of his advisors and courtiers. His long, thick hair lay splayed out behind him like a dark, liquid curtain, hiding the smooth, supple curves of his back from view.

The royal advisor, Lord Vurren, stepped through the doorway, a look of shock etched on his usually composed features. The Prince didn’t hear him come in, his back to the man, humming softly as the sun shined on his soft pale skin. The advisor didn’t expect to see him like this. But still, he has seen many a royal man in the nude, this was no He stays quiet for a moment, about to speak up, when the prince sits up, stretching out of the tub and pulling at his length of hair. He had more curves than the advisor remembered, and then he saw something he didn’t expect: small, bulbous, female breasts.

Lord Vurren's mouth drops open, his heart racing. The Prince was a woman. He had been deceiving everyone. Turning back towards the tub, seemingly unaware of his presence. Pale skin glistens in the sunlight, and the prince lets out a contented sigh.

The advisors blood boils, anger rising in him. This stupid brat. How long could they claim a ruse like this? DI’d they expect no consequences?

"What do you think you're doing?" Lord Vurren demands in a forced hushness, his voice shaking with rage. The Prince turns to face him, with a look of confusion and fear.

“How long did you think you could hide this?”

The Prince opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. He'd never meant to deceive anyone; he felt like a man and rose to his responsibilities.

"You know this changes everything," Lord Vurren says, his voice cold and hard. "You cannot continue to rule as a woman."

The Prince's face crumples, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. "But I am a man."

Lord Vurren laughs, a harsh, bitter sound. "You really think so?” He asks, swiftly moving closer. The prince tries to pull away, but the bathtub holds him still.

"You may think you're a man, and you may act like one, but you can't change the facts." He leans in, his hot breath on the back of the prince’s neck as he comes up from behind.

“Shhhh… scream and all your guards will find out the liar you are.”

Lord Vurren's hot, moist breath tickles the Prince's ear as his fingers close around his exposed, feminine breast. The Prince arches his back, gasping in shock and pain, but Lord Vurren's grip is unyielding.

"This is what a woman looks like," he whispers, squeezing harder. "This is what you are. This is who you are." His other hand moves down, under the water, between the prince’s soft thighs.

The Prince lets out a strangled cry, more from shock than pain, and Lord Vurren chuckles darkly. "See? That's what a woman sounds like." His fingers part the prince's folds, finding the small, hard bud of flesh within. "And this," he says, rubbing it roughly, "is what a woman feels like."

The Prince tries to pull away again, but Lord Vurren's grip is too strong. "You cannot be our ruler," he says, his voice growing harsher as he forces the truth upon the prince. "You cannot lead us into war, you cannot make the hard decisions, you cannot father an heir."

The Prince's eyes widen, horror filling them. "No, please," he whispers. "I can." But Lord Vurren laughs, a cruel, mocking sound.

He twists the Prince's nipple roughly, hard enough to make the prince cry out in pain. "You think you can lead this kingdom? You're nothing but a helpless, pathetic thing. A woman." His hand slides further down, finding the Prince's wet, exposed flesh. He pushes two fingers inside, feeling the Prince's body yield and accommodate his intrusion.

The Prince's eyes roll back in his head, tears streaming down his cheeks. "Please, stop," he whispers, his voice barely audible over the sound of his own breath.

Lord Vurren's fingers thrust deeper into the Prince's body, finding his entrance slick with desire and pain. The Prince gasps, arching his back as Lord Vurren forces him further onto the edge of the tub. "You think you're in control here?" he snarls, his voice thick with lust and anger. "You're nothing but a woman. And a woman is a set of holes."

He pulls his fingers out, only to thrust them back in harder, faster. The Prince cries out, his body convulsing around Lord Vurren's hand. "Feel this empty hole, empty womb," Lord Vurren continues, his breath hot against the Prince's ear.

With his other hand, he grabs the Prince's hair, yanking his head back roughly. The Prince's eyes fly open, tears streaming down his face. Lord Vurren forces the Prince's mouth open, thrusting his fingers deeper, harder. The Prince tries to gag on his own sobs, but Lord Vurren is relentless. "This is what a woman is," he growls, his voice raw with lust and anger. "This is all you are."

His fingers find a rhythm, slamming into the Prince's body over and over, driving him to the brink of orgasm. The Prince's hips buck wildly, trying to find some release from the unyielding grip on his hair. But Lord Vurren only tightens his hold, relishing the power he has over the Prince's helpless body. The Prince just told him off the day before, making him look pathetic in front of the entire royal court. Now was his revenge.

As the Prince's orgasm builds, Lord Vurren pulls his fingers away, watching with a twisted smile as the Prince's body convulses and shudders. “Stand up,” the advisor orders.

The Prince, still gasping for breath, manages to obey. Lord Vurren takes a step back, assessing the damage he's inflicted. The Prince's chest heaves, his nipples still hard and sore from the rough treatment. Blood trickles down his inner thighs, a testament to the force with which Lord Vurren violated him. His eyes dart around the bathroom, haunted and lost.

“Don’t you see you’re a woman now?” The advisor mocks.

“You’re a pathetic excuse of a man,” the prince fires back with rage.

The advisor grabs the princes hair, dragging mercilessly to the royal chambers.

He throws the prince on the bed, straddling him. His hand reaches for the Prince's throat, squeezing it tightly. The Prince struggles beneath him, his eyes bulging. Lord Vurren leans down, whispering into the Prince's ear.

“How does it feel to be powerless?” He smiles darkly, slapping the thick breasts of the “Prince”.

The Prince gasps for air, his chest heaving. He tries to squirm out from under Lord Vurren, but the advisor's grip is like steel. He looks up at Lord Vurren, hatred and fear warring in his eyes.

Lord Vurren chuckles darkly, his breath hot against the Prince's neck. "Oh, you think you can resist me?" he asks, his voice cold and cruel. "You are nothing but a woman now, a weak, pathetic thing. A woman."

With one swift motion, Lord Vurren rolls him over and spanks him hard, the sound echoing through the room. Tears stream down his face, but Lord Vurren shows no mercy. He continues to spank him, harder and harder, until the Prince is sobbing uncontrollably.

"How does it feel to be nothing?" Lord Vurren asks, his voice cold and mocking. "To be reduced to this pathetic, helpless thing?" He pauses, grabbing a fistful of the Prince's hair, pulling his head back roughly. "To know that you will never again be the man you once were?" He grabs a fistful of the princes hair, making him look up at the mirror that faces them.

The Prince looks into the mirror, his eyes wide with horror. It was the body of a woman. His breasts are swollen and reddened from Lord Vurren's rough handling, and his body aches from the relentless spanking. He tries to speak, to protest, but no words come out.

Lord Vurren's hand tightens in his hair, forcing the Prince to look deeper into his own eyes. "This is who you are now," he says, his voice cold and merciless. "This is what you are. You are nothing but a woman, a pathetic, dressed up little princess"

The words cut like a knife, and the Prince feels a fresh wave of tears welling up in his eyes. He tries to struggle against Lord Vurren, but it's useless. He's trapped beneath the advisor's strong, cruel body. The mirror reflects his every movement, every tear, every gasp for breath.

Lord Vurren continues to hold the Prince's hair, forcing him to look at his own reflection. "You’re going to feel this like a woman, too,” he teases cruelly as he shoves his trousers down.

The Prince gasps in horror as he feels the advisor's hard cock against his sore entrance. Lord Vurren leans down, his breath hot against the Prince's neck. "Youre going to take me like a good girl," he growls.

The Prince tries to twist away, but Lord Vurren's grip on his hair is painfully tight. He feels the advisor's body press against his, the heat and strength of him. He shudders as Lord Vurren pushes inside, slowly penetrating his body. It feels like a violation beyond anything he's ever experienced.

Lord Vurren begins to thrust, his hips slapping against the Prince's ass with each movement. The Prince tries to squirm away, but there's nowhere to go. He feels tears streaming down his face, hot and salty. "Please," he whispers, "please stop."

But Lord Vurren only laughs, his breath hot against the Prince's ear. "Oh, no, my little princess," he says mockingly. "This is just the beginning."

He begins to thrust harder, faster, his hips slapping against the Prince's ass with brutal force. The Prince cries out in pain and humiliation, feeling as though he's being torn apart. Lord Vurren reaches around, roughly grabbing one of the Prince's breasts, squeezing it cruelly as he continues to pound into him.

The Prince tries to focus on something, anything else, to take his mind off the agony. His eyes dart around the room, landing on the ornate tapestries hanging on the walls, the massive four-poster bed they're in, the gleaming silver chandelier above them. But no matter where he looks, he can't escape the image of himself in the mirror, his body being used and abused by Lord Vurren.

With each brutal thrust, the Prince's body is pushed deeper into the mattress, the softness a cruel irony against the pain he feels. He tries to summon the strength to fight back, to push Lord Vurren off of him, but his limbs feel like jelly, his body numb from the onslaught. The advisor's hips slam into him again and again, each impact sending a wave of agony through the Prince's body.

“You’re my good little girl, aren’t you,”

Lord Vurren pants between gritted teeth, his voice twisted with pleasure and dominance. The Prince whimpers, unable to speak. He feels as if he's been torn in two, his body no longer his own. Lord Vurren's hand reaches between them, roughly fondling the Prince's swollen sex as he continues to thrust. The sensation is almost unbearable, and the Prince feels himself starting to climax against his will.

He looks through the mirror at Lord Vurren, pleading with the advisor to stop, but Lord Vurren only smirks down at him, his eyes cold and merciless. He pushes harder, faster, and the Prince feels as though he's about to explode. His body tenses, and with a hoarse cry, he orgasms around Lord Vurren's cock. The advisor follows suit, letting out a guttural groan as he releases himself deep inside the Prince.

Lord Vurren collapses on top of the Prince, their sweaty bodies pressed together. He rolls off of him a moment later, chuckling darkly. "There now, that wasn't so bad, was it?" he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. The Prince looks at him in horror, unable to believe the words that have just left his mouth. He tries to get up, but his body feels weak and numb. The advisor is pulling on his pants unceremoniously. .

"You're lucky I don't have to tell anyone about this," Lord Vurren continues, straightening his clothes. "Or else you'd be in even more trouble than you are now. Just remember your place, my little princess. I make the decisions for you. No questions. Got it?”

The Prince looks up at him, his eyes filled with hate and disgust. He wants to lash out, to fight back, but he knows he can't. He can only nod weakly.

Lord Vurren smirks, clearly enjoying the Prince's discomfort. "Good girl. Now, why don't you get dressed and we'll get back to work. There are important decisions to be made, after all." He steps away, giving the Prince some space.

The Prince slowly pulls himself together, struggling to ignore the pain between his legs and the stickiness that coats his skin. He dresses as quickly as he can, wanting nothing more than to get away from Lord Vurren and the memory of what just happened. But as he follows the advisor out of the bedroom, he knows that there is no escape. Lord Vurren has complete control over him now.

They return to the study, where several members of the court are waiting anxiously. The Prince sits down at his desk, feeling the weight of his newfound lack of power.

As Lord Vurren takes his seat across from him, the Prince steels himself for another round of verbal assaults. Instead, Lord Vurren begins discussing the day's business in a calm, almost conversational tone. The Prince listens carefully, trying to understand the complex web of politics and alliances that have been woven around him.

He feels a sense of relief as Lord Vurren's attention seems to be elsewhere, but it's short-lived. The advisor casually leans over, his breath hot against the Prince's ear. "Don't think you're off the hook just yet, my little pet," he whispers. "We'll be revisiting our little secret very soon." The Prince feels a chill run down his spine at Lord Vurren's words, but he forces himself to maintain a neutral expression.

When it comes time to make a major decision, all eyes turn to the prince. But the advisor speaks up. “I strongly advise you reconsider peace with the nations to the south. We must send more spies.”

With slight hesitation, he just nods.

“But sire, are you sure?” One man asks terrified.

The prince looks to the advisor, who gives a smirk. He nods back at the advisor. He can feel the blood rushing to his face as he speaks. His voice is barely above a whisper, but it echoes throughout the room. "Yes. Lord Vurren's advice is sound. We will heed it." There's a moment of silence as everyone processes his words.

One man, clearly unhappy with the decision, tries to argue. "But sire, we have made great strides in peace talks! We could be on the brink of something historic!" The prince glares at him, anger and frustration welling up inside him. More arguing, more holding ground… more people that are beginning to turn against him.

Finally, Lord Vurren speaks up, his voice silencing the room. "Your highness, perhaps it would be best to reconsider your choice of advisors. There are those here who are more loyal to the kingdom than others." He pauses, looking pointedly at the dissenting man. "Perhaps it is time for a change."

It was the princes favorite. Lord curren has been against him from the start… now he was attempting to unseat him from his possision. The prince nods solemly, hating what he was doing. “You’re right, lord vurren.”

There are gasps of surprise around the room, but no one dares to interrupt. The prince looks at the man he had grown to trust, to respect. He can see the disappointment in his eyes, the betrayal.

Lord Vurren grins slyly as the guards lead the only uncorrupted man in the room away.

The rest of the meeting passes in a blur. The prince signs the orders, agrees to the treaties, and dismisses the courtiers. When at last the room is empty and quiet, Lord Vurren approaches him once more.

"Well, Your Highness," he says with a smirk, "I trust that was a lesson well learned. Now you understand the importance of keeping your friends close and your enemies closer." The Prince nods numbly, unable to meet his gaze. "Oh, and don't forget about our little arrangement. You wouldn't want me to tell everyone about your... indiscretions, would you?"

The weight of the day presses down on the Prince like an anvil. He can feel his resolve beginning to crumble under the relentless pressure of Lord Vurren's control. The thought of living the rest of his life as a puppet, constantly balancing on the edge of humiliation and destruction, is almost too much to bear.

The next morning, no servants wake him. Instead, he feels a caressing of his ass.

"You're not going anywhere," Lord Vurren whispers into his ear, his hot breath sending shivers down the Prince's spine. "Not until I say so." The Prince tries to move, to protest, but he's pinned down by unseen forces. He feels a cold, hard object press against his asshole. "Now, be a good princess and take what's yours."

The Prince's body tenses, his face flushing with humiliation and rage. But he knows that to resist now would be futile. He steels himself, preparing for the pain and degradation that is to come.

Lord Vurren pushes the cold, hard object deeper into the Prince's body, grunting with satisfaction as he does so. The Prince's eyes water from the intrusion, but he refuses to make a sound.

"That's it," Lord Vurren breathes. "Just relax and take it. You're going to feel so full... so owned."

The Prince tries to focus on breathing through the pain and humiliation, his face flushed and his body trembling beneath Lord Vurren's weight. He feels the cold length of the object inside him, stretching and twisting, filling him up in ways he never thought possible.

“There,” lord Vurren says in satisfaction, the object holding firm inside the prince.

“What… is that?” He asks slowly.

Lord Vurren chuckles darkly. "Why, that's your new sceptre, of course. You'll be using this to rule your kingdom with, from now on." He leans in close, his breath warm against the prince's ear. "And don't you forget it."

The Prince shudders, partly from the cold metal inside him and partly from the realization of what this meant. He was no longer the ruler of his kingdom; he was little more than a puppet. A marionette, dancing to Lord Vurren's twisted tune.

“Now let me feel your little slit…”

Lord Vurren's hands moved lower, forcing the Prince's legs further apart. He felt the cold touch of a finger against his entrance. The Prince tried to close his eyes, to block out the humiliation, but he couldn't help but feel the weight of Lord Vurren's gaze.

"That's right," Lord Vurren murmured, his voice like silk. "Let me see how much you've missed this. How much you still need me." His finger pressed inside, stretching the Prince.

The Prince gritted his teeth, trying to ignore the pain and the humiliation. He felt Lord Vurren's finger twist and probe, searching for a spot deep inside him. "Stop," he managed to choke out. "Please."

Lord Vurren withdrew his finger, only to press a second finger against the Prince's entrance. "Ah, you're so tight," he purred. "So ready for me." He pushed his fingers deeper, stretching the Prince's body to its limits. "And you will be ready for me," he whispered, his breath hot against the Prince's ear. "Whenever I want you."

#belonging #kdnprp #fingring #inside #mpreg #story #fantasy noncon #cncnc #prince-ish #ftm girl

[xxxtyty]

The air in the room was heavy with perfume, sweat, and anticipation. A dozen pairs of eyes followed the movements of the older man as he inspected each of the women lined up before him. Their bodies, adorned with jewels and expensive fabrics, swayed gently to an unheard melody. Somewhere in the distance, a violin sang a mournful tune, adding to the atmosphere of debauchery and excess.

When he finally reached her, his gaze raked over her body, lingering on her exposed skin. She tried to stand straighter, to meet his eyes without flinching, but it was impossible not to feel the shame burning through her. He ran a finger down her cheek, tracing the line of her jaw, before finally speaking.

"I haven’t seen you before,” he said curiously.

"No, sir," the woman at the head of the room replied, her voice carrying over the music. "She was just delivered to the estate yesterday. She hasn’t been trained and broken in yet.”

The older man's eyes narrowed, and he turned back to her. "And what is your name, my dear?" he asked, his voice a low rumble.

“Lady Violet,” she struggles to say.

His eyebrow lifts in surprise. "That's quite the name for a commoner, isn't it?" He smirks, taking in the rest of her. "Well, perhaps I can give you a new name, if I deem it so."

She holds back the vitriol, trying not to scream and fight like a scared wild animal.

The older man smirks, enjoying the show. "I can see you're a feisty one. That's good. It'll make things more interesting." He steps back, surveying her once more. "Very well, Lady Violet. You have the honor of being my pet for this evening. I’ll take great pleasure in training you."

Her heart sinks as he speaks, but she forces a nod and tries to maintain some semblance of dignity. The other women in the room watch her with interest, their expressions ranging from jealousy to pity.

He leads her away from the line, through a series of lavishly decorated rooms, each more opulent than the last. They finally reach a grand chamber at the heart of the estate, where a massive four-poster bed dominates the room. Its curtains are drawn back, revealing layers of silk and satin sheets, adorned with costume jewelry.

"Undress," he commands, his voice cold and authoritative.

She hesitates for a moment, her hands trembling as she begins to unfasten the elaborate corset that binds her. It's a familiar ritual, one she's performed countless times before, but never with quite so much dread. As each piece of clothing hits the floor, she feels more exposed and vulnerable. When she's finally naked, she stands before him, her body bare and on display.

He takes his time, walking around her, inspecting every inch of her skin. His gaze is hungry and possessive, making her feel like nothing more than an object for his amusement. He stops in front of her, reaching out to cup her breast in his hand, his thumb roughly circling her nipple. She bites her lip, trying to stifle the moan that rises unbidden to her lips.

"That's it, my pet," he breathes, his voice dark and sensual. "Let me see how obedient you are." He squeezes her breast, harder than she thought possible, and she feels a stab of pain. Tears well up in her eyes, but she forces them back down, refusing to give him the satisfaction. He continues to touch her, his fingers moving lower, parting her folds. "You're wet," he observes, and she feels his warm breath against her sensitive skin.

His fingers adventure around her vulva. “You’re a virgin,” he observes, but she doesn’t know how he knew that.

His hands move away from her, and she braces herself for what might come next. But instead of penetrating her, he spanks her bare bottom hard, making her yelp in pain.

He reaches between her legs again, spreading her folds wider. She tenses, feeling exposed and vulnerable, but tries to remain still as he begins to touch her. His fingers dance over her sensitive skin, teasing and taunting her, until she's panting for release. She can feel the wetness between her legs, the heat building inside her with every touch.

When he finally thrusts a finger inside her, she cries out, arching her back involuntarily. The invasion of her body is painful, but also strangely pleasurable. She clenches around his finger, feeling the muscles in her inner walls contract, seeking more of his touch. He begins to move his finger in and out of her, his other hand gripping her hip tightly.

"That's it, my pet," he whispers, his breath hot against her ear. "Give in to it." She shakes her head violently.

"No, I can't," she whispers, struggling against the sensations tearing through her. "I'm not one of your animals."

He laughs, a cruel and mocking sound. "Ah, Violet. You're so much more entertaining when you fight me. It's like watching a cat play with a mouse." He thrusts his finger deeper inside her, making her gasp in pain. "You see, I paid for you. You belong to me. And you will do as I say."

His other hand leaves her hip and travels up her body, cupping her breast once more. His touch is rough, bruising, and she winces under the pressure. "Call me Master," he growls, his voice low and demanding.

She shakes her head again, tears streaming down her face. "I can't," she whispers, her voice barely audible.

He hisses in frustration, his fingers digging deeper into her flesh. "You most certainly can," he says, his voice hard and commanding. He pulls her closer, forcing her body to arch towards his as he thrusts his finger harder and faster inside her. She lets out a sob, feeling as if he's tearing her apart.

He releases her breast and cups her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes. "Say it," he growls, his breath hot against her lips. "Say it, and I might show you mercy."

Terror grips her, but she refuses to give in. Her eyes narrow, her jaw set stubbornly. He sees the defiance, the strength, and for a moment, he's almost impressed. Almost.

With a growl of frustration, he slams her body back against the bed, pinning her there with his weight. His other hand grips her throat, cutting off her air, as his fingers violate her further. She struggles, clawing at his arms, but it's no use. He's too strong. He's in control, and she is helpless beneath him.

Her vision blurs as she fights for air, her lungs burning. The pain is unbearable, and she feels herself beginning to slip away. As her consciousness fades, she hears him whisper in her ear, "Say it, Violet. Say it, and I might spare you."

She tries to shake her head, to deny him, but her strength fails her. Her chest aches, her limbs feel weak, and all she can focus on is his hand around her throat, squeezing tighter and tighter. She can feel herself giving in, the fight leaving her body as swiftly as the air from her lungs.

With a whisper that sounds more like a gasp than a word, she says it: "Master."

He releases her throat, and the pressure in her chest eases slightly. But it's not enough. Her vision is still blurred, her body aching from his brutal touch. He leans in, his breath warm against her ear again. "Good girl," he croons, and for a moment, she thinks he might be gentler now. But then he thrusts his finger deeper inside her, harder than ever before.

As quickly as he began, he pulls out. “Get on the floor,” he orders. She hesitates too long.

His hand snaps out, slapping her across the face so hard she sees stars. She falls to the floor, landing on all fours. Her body shudders from the pain, and tears stream down her face. He stands over her, watching as she tries to catch her breath. She can feel the wetness between her legs, the evidence of his violation. “You’ll obey me!” He says angrily.

He steps closer, his voice lowering. "You'll do as I say, and you'll call me Master." He slaps her breast hard.

She cries out in pain, the sting spreading across her sensitive skin. He steps back, watching her struggle to breathe through the agony. His hand hovers in the air, considering another strike. "Do you understand?" he asks, his voice cold and calm.

“Yes!” She says angrily.

“Yes WHAT,” his voice rises, slapping her other breast as she whimpers.

She yells, "Yes, Master! I understand!" She bows her head in submission, tears streaming down her face. He steps back, watching her closely. His hands clench into fists at his sides, his chest rising and falling rapidly with each breath. He's angry, but he's also aroused. The power he holds over her is intoxicating.

"Good girl," he whispers, his voice still harsh. "Now get on the bed and kneel at the foot. Spread your legs wide for me." She does as she's told, crawling across the bed and positioning herself as he ordered. Her body aches, her mind reels from the pain and the humiliation, but she knows there's more to come. He's not done with her yet.

He straddles her hips, pinning her down with his weight. His breath is hot against her ear as he trails his fingers down her stomach, teasing the edge of her panties. "Do you know what I'm going to do to you now, Violet?" he asks, his voice dark and menacing. She shakes her head, unable to speak. “No, master?” He corrects her. She stifles out a pathetic “no,master”

His fingers slide under the elastic of her panties, and she feels his warm breath on her most sensitive skin. He pushes them aside, exposing her to his touch. He parts her folds, and she feels the wetness of her arousal coat his fingers as he circles her clit. She gasps, arching her back into his touch. His other hand grips her hip, holding her in place as he teases her mercilessly.

"That's it, Violet," he whispers. "Feel how much you want me." He thrusts his fingers deeper, curling them around her clit as he presses against her entrance. She moans, her hips bucking upwards in a desperate attempt to find relief. "You belong to me now," he says, his voice thick with lust. "You'll do anything I say, won't you? You’ll be obedient to the men who come in?”

His fingers move faster, and she feels herself starting to lose control. He leans in, capturing her lips in a brutal kiss. His tongue thrusts deep into her mouth, as if to claim her completely. She clenches around his fingers, her body tense with the need for release. But just as she's about to climax, he pulls away, withdrawing his fingers and roughly pushing her panties back into place.

She gasps, her body trembling from the loss of sensation. "You're not finished yet," he says, his voice hard. He climbs off her, and she feels his weight press against her as he kneels behind her. He lifts her hips, guiding his erection to her entrance. "Now," he says, "you're going to take me inside you." He thrusts forward, forcing himself deep inside her. She cries out in pain and pleasure, feeling the invasion of her body, the claiming of her as his own.

He begins to move, his hips slapping against her ass as he drives into her over and over again. His breath comes hot and ragged against her neck, and she can feel his fingers dig into her hips. He's relentless, his pace brutal. She tries to keep up, but it's impossible. Her body is no longer her own; it's at his mercy. She whimpers and sobs, feeling the shame and the arousal mixing together in a tangled knot.

He thrusts deeper, harder, his hips slamming against her, his body tensing as he approaches climax. She feels it building inside her, too, a desperate ache that threatens to overwhelm her. But he won't let her come. He won't let her have that release. Instead, he grips her hair and yanks her head back, forcing her to meet his gaze. "You're mine now," he growls. "You'll come when I say you can come."

His thrusts become more frenzied, his breath coming in ragged gasps. She feels her body begin to shake, her muscles tensing, but he's merciless. He won't let her break free from the cycle of pain and pleasure he's trapped her in. He slaps her ass, hard, and she cries out, arching her back into the touch. "That's it," he snarls. "Take it."

As if sensing her building climax, he increases the speed of his thrusts, driving deeper and harder, his hips slapping against her ass. She feels the familiar tightening in her stomach, the desperate ache between her legs. But he won't let her go. He grabs her hair again, forcing her head back, and thrusts deeper still, his erection massaging her g-spot.

She tries to focus on the pain, on the harshness of his grip on her hair, the force of his thrusts. It's a struggle to keep from losing herself in the pleasure that threatens to consume her. His breath comes hot and ragged against her neck, and she can feel his body tense, can sense that he's close. But he won't let her go over the edge until he does.

His hand leaves her hair, moving lower to grasp her breast, squeezing roughly. The sensation sends a shiver through her, and she moans, her hips bucking helplessly against his. He growls, his movements becoming even more frenzied. His other hand slides down between their bodies, finding her clit, rubbing it roughly as he thrusts deeper and harder.

She arches her back, her head thrown back, as the pleasure builds within her, threatening to consume her. But he won't let her go. He keeps her on the edge, teetering between agony and ecstasy. His breath is hot and ragged against her neck, his hips slamming against hers, his erection throbbing inside her.

His grip on her breast tightens, the pain mingling with the pleasure, driving her higher. He curses, his voice rough and demanding, and his thrusts become even more frenzied. His other hand slides lower, finding her wetness, parting her lips with his fingers. She cries out, her body shuddering as he pushes her over the edge.

Her muscles contract, her inner walls gripping him in a tight, unrelenting spiral. He follows her over the edge, his hips bucking wildly, his body shuddering as he releases himself deep inside her. Their sweat-slicked skin slides against each other, their breath coming in ragged gasps. He collapses on top of her, his weight pressing her into the bed. His lips find her neck, sucking and nipping, as he growls into her ear, "Mine."

#belonging #kdnprp #fingring #inside

[xxxtyty]

The Fae Prince (part 1)

(Implied noncon, medical, mpreg, man with vagina, fantasy)

The air was crisp and cool, the leaves crunching underfoot as the hunting party trekked through the dense forest. Their leader, a stern and battle-hardened woman with a mane of unruly hair, scanned the surroundings with a practiced eye. She was searching for any sign of the magical fae that had been wreaking havoc on their kingdom's borders. The stories of the fae prince were legendary amongst the hunters, and they all longed for the chance to capture him.

A scout had eyed him, saying he was just around this bend.

The guard sent a few men in with direction. They had him cornered.

"Show yourself, fae!" the leader shouted, her voice echoing through the trees. There was a rustle, and in a matter of seconds, the guards had tackled the creature, wrapping him in chains.

The faery prince struggled against his captors, but it was no use. He glared at them with eyes that glowed like emeralds, his wings thrashing wildly against the ground. His golden hair spilled across the damp leaves, and his delicate features were marred by anger and fear. "Let me go!" he demanded.

The leader of the hunting party approached him slowly, her sword sheathed but her hand resting on its hilt. "Your time as a free creature is over, fae," she said coldly. "You have caused too much destruction and pain." She gestured to the other guards, and they began to drag the prince away through the forest.

As they marched him back to the castle, the faery prince struggled against his captors, his strength seemingly inhuman despite his delicate appearance. The guards were impressed and wary, for they had heard tales of the fae's incredible powers.

Still, without incident, he was brought to the castle and into the throne room, before the king and queen.

"So, you are the infamous faery prince," the king said, his voice cold and unyielding. "You have caused so much chaos and heartache in our kingdom. Tell us, why?"

The prince glared at them, his emerald eyes flashing. "I sought only to protect my own," he said defiantly. "Our lands have been encroached upon, our people hunted and killed. I sought only to defend us."

“Likely story,” the king scolds. “Let the royal scholars and scientists study him, we have yet to see a faery so close.”

The faery prince is brought to a laboratory deep within the castle. The room is illuminated by flickering candles and lit by arcane light sources, casting strange shadows on the walls. A team of scientists and magicians, garbed in flowing white medical robes, await his arrival.

The prince is bound to a large stone table, his chains clinking softly as he struggles against them. The scientists begin to examine him, carefully measuring his height, weight, and wing span. They prod and poke at his delicate features, noting the iridescent quality of his dark brown and purple hair and the hue of his eyes. One of the magicians studies the intricate pattern of veins that weave through his wings, fascinated by their grace and strength.

“Let us begin a more.. thorough study,” one of the scholars suggests, gesturing to the princes robes.

Another scholar quickly removes the prince's tunic, revealing a firm, toned chest adorned with delicate, tiny gems. The prince arches his back, his muscles tensing as he struggles against the restraints. One of the scientists studies the gemstones, taking notes and swabs for further analysis.

The prince’s trousers are carefully cut from his body.

The scientists are now treated to a sight that few mortals have ever laid eyes upon: the faery prince is completely naked before them. His skin is pale and smooth, like the finest porcelain, with a faint, iridescent sheen that shifts with each movement. His muscles ripple and flex as he struggles against the restraints, and his wings spread wide to their full span, casting shadows across the room.

One scholar, an elderly woman with a sharp tongue and even sharper wit, studied the prince's genitalia with particular interest. "Hmm," she muttered, adjusting her spectacles. "Fascinating." She pointed at the prince's groin. "You see here? This is where we might find the source of your power. Your 'fae princess' as it were." She smiled slyly, enjoying the shocked expressions on the faces of the other scholars.

There, before them, was a prince… and yet, he had what seemed like a tiny penis and a beautiful vagina.

"How curious," another scholar mused.

The prince struggled against his bonds, his eyes burning with hatred. "You have no idea what you're dealing with," he spat.

The elderly woman leaned in closer, fingers tracing dangerously close to his groin. “I wonder…”

The other scientists and magicians gathered around, their curiosity piqued. The faery prince growled, struggling against his bonds. His strength was superhuman, but they had him well bound.

The elderly woman continued to study the prince's genitalia, her fingers tracing lightly over his skin. "This is most fascinating," she murmured. "Your penis is almost nonexistent. It might as well be a large female clitoris.”

One of the younger scholars, a man with a long beard and piercing blue eyes, leaned in closer. "Indeed. And your vagina is quite well-formed. It seems that you are not as male as we once believed."

The elderly woman nodded in agreement. "Yes, it's quite fascinating. It's almost as if you are a hermaphrodite, possessing both male and female reproductive organs." She glanced up at the prince, her eyes narrowing. "I wonder how this affects your mating habits."

“With a penis that small, surely he cannot inseminate a female faery,” one scholar scoffs.

The elderly woman raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps not," she hesitated. "But then, you are not a traditional male, are you?" She glanced at the other scholars, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Perhaps it is the vagina that possesses the power. Perhaps you are the one who needs to be inseminated."

The prince's eyes widened in horror, his struggling becoming more frantic. "You don't understand," he gasped out between ragged breaths. "You are playing with fire!”

The elderly woman merely smiled, unmoved by his desperation. "Oh, but I think we do understand," she said calmly. "And we are not afraid of the fire.”

The prince's struggles grow more frantic as he realizes that they are not merely studying him, but discussing his fate as if he were a mere object..

The elderly woman smiled cruelly, enjoying the prince's desperation. "Very well," she said, her voice like ice. "If you insist. We shall need a volunteer, of course. Someone brave enough to face the consequences of touching you." She paused, her eyes flickering meaningfully around the room.

The younger scholar with the long beard stepped forward hesitantly. "I-I'll do it," he stammered. "I mean, for science." He swallowed nervously, trying to steady his trembling hands as he approached the prince. "I-I'll just... touch your vagina. To see if it's as... powerful as you say."

The elderly woman nodded approvingly, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "Very well, Doctor..." She gestured for him to continue.

The scholar tentatively placed his hand on the prince's hip, feeling the warmth radiating through the pale skin. His fingers trembled as he traced downward, brushing against the soft folds of the vagina. The prince's body tensed, his back arching away from the touch, but the bonds held fast. The scholar's heart raced, his mind reeling with the implications of what he was doing.

As he continued to explore, he noticed that the skin of the prince's vagina was smooth and unblemished, unlike any human female he had ever seen. It pulsed gently under his touch, responding to his every movement. The elderly woman leaned in closer, her eyes fixed on the scholar's every move, her expression a mixture of anticipation and curiosity.

The scholar's fingers traced delicately along the sensitive folds, feeling the warmth emanating from within. Slowly, carefully, he slid his finger deeper inside, feeling the soft, wet heat engulf him.

The prince's body convulsed, his back arching violently as he let out a guttural cry. "No! Stop it!" But the scholar was lost in the sensation, the forbidden pleasure washing over him.

The elderly woman's eyes widened with interest, her lips curling into a satisfied smile. "Fascinating," she breathed. "It seems that the vagina is indeed powerful. Perhaps it's more than just a receptacle for sperm." She glanced over at the younger scholars, their faces flushed with excitement and fear. "It appears we have much to learn about the nature of this creature."

The scholar's fingers continued to move within the prince, exploring every inch of the smooth, warm flesh. He felt a strange pulsing sensation, as if the prince's very being was responding to his touch. Something was embedded in the top side of his vagina.

The elderly woman leaned forward, her eyes fixed on the scholar's face. "What do you feel?" she asked, her voice hushed with anticipation.

The scholar swallowed hard, his fingers still buried within the prince's vagina. "I... I feel... something hard and round, inside," he managed to say. "Like a... like a pearl."

The elderly woman's eyes lit up with interest. "A pearl?" she mused. "Fascinating. Perhaps it's some sort of organ that aids in the production of this... power. Remove it, Doctor. Quickly and carefully."

“I can’t, it’s lodged in…”

The elderly scholar shoved him away, reaching into the vaginal canal herself.

The younger scholar stumbled back, shocked by the woman's sudden violence. He watched as her fingers probed deeper, searching for the elusive object. It was no use. No matter how much she poked and pulled, it wouldn’t free itself.

Finally, she withdrew her hands with a sigh of frustration. "It appears to be lodged in place," she said, her voice betraying her annoyance. "We shouldn’t just cut it out without knowing what it does.”

The younger scholar bit his lip, feeling a mixture of relief and disappointment. He glanced at the prince, who was still struggling against his bonds, his face contorted in pain. The elderly woman, however, seemed undeterred. "We'll need to find another way to study this further," she mused. "Perhaps if we observe the prince's behavior more closely, we can discern some pattern or function of the pearl."

“Perhaps it’s time to simulate intercourse. Do we still have the machine we were experimenting with?”

The younger scholar nodded, recalling the device they had built as part of their research. It was a mechanical arm with a fake penis attached, designed to mimic the motions of copulation. They had used it on several other captives before, but never with such a delicate and mysterious subject as the prince.

The decision was unanimous. With help from the royal guards, they positioned the prince onto the seat of the machine, leaning back like a bride on her wedding night. “It’s funny how much he looks like a female like this,” muses the younger scholar.

The elderly woman chuckles darkly, her gaze fixed on the control panel. "Yes, well, let's see how he fares with a bit more... stimulation." She flips a switch, and the mechanical arm begins to move, the silicone cock moving up and into position, teasing the entrance of the Prince.

“I’m a virgin!” The Prince cries out raggedly, anxious to get free.

The elderly woman gives him a cool look. "I know. But I suspect that this pearl inside of you has been altered somehow. Perhaps it's designed to react differently in the presence of another male. We'll see." She leans forward, her fingers dancing across the control panel.

With a click, the machine begins to move slowly, mimicking the gentle first thrust of intercourse. The younger scholar watches with bated breath as the mechanical cock penetrates the Prince, its cold, silicone surface rubbing against the pearl lodged inside. The Prince cries out in pain and pleasure, his body arching against the restraints.

The elderly woman adjusts a dial, increasing the speed of the machine. The mechanical arm thrusts forward, driving the cock deeper into the Prince, the pearl rubbing against his inner walls with each thrust. The younger scholar can see the Prince's chest heaving as he struggles against his bonds, his eyes rolling back in his head.

The elderly woman watches the Prince intently, her eyes darting between the controls and the Prince's reactions. After several minutes of this, she slows the machine down once more, allowing it to rock gently back and forth. The Prince gasps and moans, his body arching with pleasure despite himself.

The elderly scholar makes the arm retract completely, slick with faery cum.

"Well, it certainly seems to have heightened his arousal," she says, stepping forward again with a gloved hand. She reaches inside, feeling the pearl. “It’s still lodged, but it seems closer to the vulva somehow.”

The younger scholar frowns, puzzled. "Do you think it's changing shape or something?"

"Perhaps," the elderly woman says with a nod. "Or maybe it's a way for the mate to control him,” she smiles wickedly as the prince struggles. “That’s it, isn’t it?”

The prince was whimpering in a way none of them ever heard before as she teased the pearl repeatedly, feeling it move down, down… closer and closer to where it was meant to be. His hips bucked, seeking release, but the restraints held fast. The younger scholar looked on in fascination, his breath caught in his throat.

Plop. It dropped into his tiny, clitoral-size penis.

The elderly scholar looked at the control panel, a wicked grin spreading across her face. "Well, shall we see what happens now?"

With a click of the mouse, the machine began to move once more. The silicone rose to the prince’s entrance, thrusting in once more.

The fae responded, crying out as the pearl inside his clitoris glowed.

The younger scholar watched, fascinated, as the machine rocked back and forth. The prince's body was covered in a sheen of sweat, his muscles tense as he fought against his bonds. The elderly woman leaned forward, her gaze fixed on the control panel, adjusting the speed and angle of the mechanical cock with practiced ease.

“What if we…” she plays with the pannel again, a new nub appearing at the side. She adds something that looks like a small silicone cup, placing it over the pearled clitoris.

The Prince cries out as the device envelops his member, the new nub teasing his perineum. The elderly scholar adjusts the controls again, making the cup vibrate. The Prince's hips buck wildly, his body arching off the table as he's wracked with pleasure. The younger scholar watches, fascinated, as the elderly woman expertly manipulates the machine, driving the Prince to heights of ecstasy he's never experienced before.

#fae Prince smut #kdnprp #fingring #inside #mpreg #machine

[xxxtyty]

The air was crisp and cool, the leaves crunching underfoot as the hunting party trekked through the dense forest. Their leader, a stern and battle-hardened woman with a mane of unruly hair, scanned the surroundings with a practiced eye. She was searching for any sign of the magical fae that had been wreaking havoc on their kingdom's borders. The stories of the fae prince were legendary amongst the hunters, and they all longed for the chance to capture him.

Finally, they heard a rustling in the bushes ahead. The leader signaled for silence and gestured for her best tracker to take point. With a nod, the tracker disappeared into the foliage, following the sound. After several tense minutes, they emerged from the bushes, the fae prince in their midst. The leader stepped forward, a cruel grin spreading across her face.

The fae prince, a beautiful and delicate creature with immense breasts, struggled against his bonds, his pale blue eyes flashing with anger and fear. His clothing was tattered and dirty, but somehow maintained its ethereal quality even in this mortal realm. His wings, folded tightly against his back, seemed to shimmer with an otherworldly light. The leader could not help but feel a twinge of envy at the creature's exquisite form.

She motioned for her men to surround the prince, their weapons drawn but sheathed for now. "Prince," she said with a sneer, "you've caused us no end of trouble. It's time to face the consequences of your actions." She gestured for one of her men to step forward. "Ensure that he can't escape," she commanded, her voice cold and commanding.

The man approached the fae prince, who continued to struggle against his bonds. The man grabbed a fistful of the prince's silky hair and yanked his head back, revealing the delicate line of his throat. "You try anything funny," he growled, "and I'll slit it." The fae prince's face flushed with anger and humiliation.

The journey back to the kingdom was long and arduous, the forest path treacherous underfoot. The leader of the hunting party led the way, her men surrounding the fae prince in a tight circle of steel and leather. They did not speak much, their eyes fixed on their prisoner. The fae prince remained defiant, his chest heaving with each labored breath.

As they emerged from the forest, the castle of the kingdom loomed large before them. Its tall spires pierced the sky, banners snapping in the wind. The guards at the gate saluted the leader as she approached, and word spread quickly through the castle that their prize had been captured. The fae prince was led through the winding halls, the sounds of celebration growing louder with each step.

The leader of the hunting party brought the fae prince before the king and queen, who sat upon their thrones in the great hall. The prince was forced to his knees, his wings folded tightly against his back. The king regarded him with a mix of fascination and disdain. "So, you are the one who has been causing such trouble for our people," he said, his voice cold and commanding. "What have you to say for yourself?"

The fae prince's face flushed with anger, but he remained silent. The queen leaned forward, her delicate features twisted in anger. "He is but a beast, my love. Let us show him no mercy."

The king nodded grimly, his eyes never leaving the prince. “He is sentenced to complete scientific examination.”

The leader of the hunting party stepped forward, a look of anticipation in her eyes. "I would be honored to oversee these experiments, Your Majesty," she said, her voice steady and proud. The king nodded in agreement, and the prince was roughly pulled to his feet and led away.

The scientific examination of the fae prince began immediately. The king's court's finest scholars and scientists descended upon him, eager to study this rare and exotic creature.

The prince was stripped of his clothes, revealing his pale, ethereal form. He struggled against the restraints, but to no avail. The scholars prodded and poked at him, measuring his wings, examining his skin, and cataloging his every physical attribute. They recorded their findings in meticulous detail, debating the finer points of fae anatomy and physiology.

One scholar, an elderly woman with a sharp tongue and even sharper wit, studied the prince's genitalia with particular interest. "Hmm," she muttered, adjusting her spectacles. "Fascinating." She pointed at the prince's groin. "You see here? This is where we might find the source of your power. Your 'fae princess' as it were." She smiled slyly, enjoying the shocked expressions on the faces of the other scholars.

The prince struggled against his bonds, his eyes burning with hatred. "You have no idea what you're dealing with," he spat. "Leave me alone." The elderly scholar chuckled. "Oh, we'll be leaving you alone soon enough, my dear. But first, we must understand you. You are, after all, a scientific curiosity."

The examination continued. One scholar measured the length of the prince's manhood, while another studied the intricate pattern of veins that ran through his skin. Another still, a young man with an air of quiet intensity, focused on the prince's nipples. "Fascinating," he murmured, tracing a finger around one of them. "In males, these are typically vestigial... but in your case, they seem quite responsive."

The prince glowered at the scholar, his muscles tense beneath his pale skin. "You know nothing," he spat, "of what it means to be fae."

The examination continued, the scholars moving from one part of the prince's body to another, their questions and observations a relentless assault. One scholar, a middle-aged man with a kind face and gentle hands, studied the prince's genitals with particular care. As he examined the prince's labia, he found himself lost in thought.

"You see," he said, more to himself than to anyone else, "here, where the labia meet, there are these delicate folds of skin. In a human female, they would be highly sensitive. In fact, they would be the source of great pleasure during sexual activity." He looked up at the prince, who glared back at him defiantly. "I wonder..."

He trailed off, carefully parting the folds of skin with his fingers. The prince tensed, but did not resist. The scholar leaned closer, his breath hot against the prince's flesh. "Ah," he murmured, "yes. I believe this would be the source of your power. The key to your magic." He traced a finger around the delicate nub of flesh, feeling it harden under his touch.

The scholar's words sent a shiver through the prince. He felt a sudden, intense heat spread through his body, and his breath caught in his throat. The other scholars looked on in fascination, their notes forgotten as they watched this strange and intimate exchange unfold.

The scholar continued to explore the prince's body, his fingers never straying far from the source of his power. He traced the delicate folds of skin, feeling the soft, warm flesh beneath them. He wondered what it would be like to touch the prince in a different way, to see if he could awaken something deep within him. His fingers started to push deeper between his folds, finding a cavernous yet tight hole.

The scholar's heart raced with anticipation as he leaned closer, breathing in the intoxicating scent of the prince's arousal. He traced his fingers around the opening, feeling the heat emanating from within. “The Prince has a deep vagina…”

The elderly woman laughed wickedly. “You’re no Prince, are you, little princess?” She says mockingly.

The prince glared at her, a mixture of anger and embarrassment flashing across his features. He struggled against his bonds, but they held fast. The other scholars watched the exchange with morbid fascination, their eyes glinting with an unholy mix of curiosity and lust.

The elderly woman leaned in closer, her gaze never leaving the prince's face. "Oh, don't be shy now," she crooned, running a wrinkled finger down his chest. "We've seen things like this before. You're not the first fae to have a little secret." She motioned for the scholar with his fingers deep inside the prince to stop. “Now, we must offer our king to breed you.”

The scholar withdrew his fingers, reluctantly, and stepped back. The elderly woman reached out, taking his place, her gnarled hands moving with surprising tenderness as she caressed the prince's cheek. "There, there," she cooed evily. "It'll be all right." She turned to the young woman to her side. “Go fetch the king, tell him that the matter has become… interesting.”

As the young woman hurried off, the other scholars gathered closer, their faces lit with anticipation and cruel curiosity. The elderly woman leaned in once more, her breath hot against the prince's ear. "Now, my dear," she whispered, "you are going to be very good for our king. You're going to show him just how... flexible you are." Her hand traveled lower, brushing against the prince's thigh before moving higher, teasingly close to his exposed chest.

The prince's heart raced, his body tense with fear and arousal. He could feel the weight of the scholar's gaze on him, like a physical force pushing him down into submission. He tried to turn his head away, to look anywhere but at the leering faces surrounding him, but their expressions were etched into his mind.

As the young woman hurried back, herding the king behind her, the scholars parted to allow them through. The king's eyes raked over the prince's body, taking in every detail. He licked his lips, clearly aroused by the sight. Without a word, he pushed the young woman aside and strode forward, his massive frame casting a shadow over the prince.

“What is this..?” He asks, looking on at the mess leaking out of the fae Prince’s pussy, the hard knob, the hard nipples.

The elderly woman grinned wickedly. "Ah, your Majesty. You see before you the result of our investigation. The Prince is not what he seems." She gestured to the prince, still bound to the table. "He has a deep vagina...and he is quite aroused."

The king narrowed his eyes, a mixture of disgust and curiosity flashing across his features. He stepped closer, his massive body towering over the helpless prince. "Explain yourself, fae." His voice was cold and hard as stone.

The scholar who had been examining the prince earlier stepped forward, his expression a mixture of awe and fear. "Your Majesty, we have discovered that the Prince possesses a unique anatomy. He has a vagina, and it is incredibly fertile." He gestured towards the prince's exposed chest, where the elderly woman's hand rested teasingly close to the prince's nipple. "We believe this to be a result of his... biological makeup. Perhaps it is a result of his fae heritage, or perhaps he was born this way," she suggested. "Either way, it makes him quite valuable."

The king's eyes narrowed as he considered this information. He looked down at the prince, who was helplessly bound to the table, his body on display for their perverse examination. "So, you are saying that I could breed him?"

The elderly woman nodded eagerly. "Yes, your Majesty. The prince's womb is perfectly capable of carrying a child."

The king considered this for a moment, his gaze traveling over the prince's body once more. "Very well," he finally said, his voice hard. "The prince will be mine to breed."

As if sensing the king's decision, the scholars and attendants in the chamber began to murmur among themselves, their eyes fixed on the prince with a predatory gleam. The elderly woman, her hand still resting on the prince's chest, leaned in closer, her breath hot against his ear. "That's a good boy," she whispered. "You'll make such a good breeding toy."

The prince felt a shiver of revulsion and fear race down his spine at her words. He tried to pull away from her touch, but his body was still bound to the table, leaving him helpless and exposed. The king's gaze flickered between them, a cruel smile curling his lips.

"So," the king began, his voice cold and commanding. "It seems I have a new pet. A precious little fae toy who is as fertile as a field in springtime." He let out a humorless chuckle. "I think I shall name you... Fertile. Yes, that seems fitting."

“I have a name!” The prince cries out angrily.

The king's expression hardens, and he takes a step closer. "Oh? And what might that be, Fertile?" he asks with a sneer. "I think I'll call you whatever I damn well please. You're mine now, you understand?"

The prince glares defiantly up at the king, his chest heaving as he tries to control his breathing. "I am not your property!" he spits out, the words bitter on his tongue.

The elderly woman snickers, her hand still teasing at the prince's nipple. "Oh, but you are, dear," she says, her voice syrupy sweet. "You belong to the king now, body and soul. And you'll be his plaything for as long as he sees fit." She leans in closer, her breath hot against his ear. "You're going to make such a good little breed toy. The king is going to have so much fun with you."

The king watches this exchange with a cruel smile, then interrupts. “Guards,” he gestures to the armored men who stand behind him, “take him to my chambers, and tie him down properly.”

The guards nod, and two of them step forward. They roughly lift the prince off the table, still bound at his wrists and ankles, and carry him from the examination chamber. They enter a grand hallway lined with tapestries depicting scenes of battle and conquest, the flickering torchlight casting long shadows across the stone floor. As they walk, the prince glances around, taking in the opulent surroundings, trying to memorize every detail in case he ever has the chance to escape.

Eventually, they reach a set of ornate double doors, guarded by two more soldiers. The guards who are carrying the prince step forward, and one of them speaks to the door guards. The prince cannot hear their words, but he can see the exchange between them. The door guards nod, and the first pair of guards lead the prince through the doors and into a lavishly appointed bedchamber.

The room is dominated by a massive canopy bed, its posts carved into the shapes of dragons and other mythical creatures. The curtains are drawn back, revealing a canopy of red silk adorned with golden thread, and the sheets on the bed are a crisp, white linen. A fireplace crackles in one corner of the room, throwing flickering light across the stone floor and warming the air. The walls are covered in tapestries and paintings depicting various scenes of hunting and war, the light from the fire casting their images in dancing shadows.

The guards take the prince to the bed, chaining his hands above his head, naked completely. A young maid is brought in to wipe him clean.

"He's all yours, my king," one of the guards says, stepping back. The king watches the maid as she works, her movements gentle and efficient. He can see the curiosity in her eyes as she takes in the prince's form, and he decides to indulge himself for a moment.

"Leave us," he says, gesturing for the guards and maid to leave the room. They exchange nervous glances, but they know better than to disobey the king. As the door closes behind them, he walks slowly towards the bed. The heavy chains rattle as the prince struggles against them, but there's no escape.

The queen glides into the room, her gown flowing behind her like a river of midnight. She is beautiful, in a way that could only belong to a woman who holds such power. Her eyes meet his, and for a moment, the prince feels a strange overwhelming fear.

“The rumors are true, then,” she laughs wickedly. “The fae Prince is really a fae princess..”

The king smirks, moving closer to the bed. The queen's words only seem to enrage him further. "Yes, well, your kind has always been known for your trickery," he says, his voice low and dangerous. "But now you belong to me, my pet, and I will have my way with you."

He climbs onto the bed, straddling the prince's hips. The chains rattle as the prince struggles against them, but it's useless. The king leans down, his breath hot against the prince's neck. "You are going to be such a good toy for me," he whispers. "You'll obey my every command, and you'll serve me faithfully."

The queen watches them, a cruel smile curving her lips. She walks around the bed, her steps silent on the carpet. The king's back is to her as he leans in closer to the prince, his words hot and hungry against the prince's skin. "I can feel your magic, my pet. It calls to me, begging to be set free. But I'm not going to let it free until I'm ready. Until I've had my fill of you."

The queen reaches out, trailing her fingers down the prince's chest, teasing the tip of a nipple between her thumb and forefinger. The prince arches into the touch, struggling against the chains even more. "Oh, you like that, do you?" the king asks, his voice low and mocking. He leans back, watching the queen's hand as she teases the prince further.

The queen glances up at him, a mischievous sparkle in her eye. "I think it's time we introduce your pet to some pleasure," she says, her voice a husky whisper. "Don't you agree, my king?"

The king grins, his teeth white and sharp against his tanned skin. "Indeed," he says, leaning down to kiss the prince roughly. The prince whimpers into the king's mouth, their tongues tangling as he tries to respond to the feeling of being desired. The king's hand moves down, cupping the prince's ass cheek, squeezing it roughly. “Fertility,” he teases.

The queen smirks, watching them intently. She walks around to the other side of the bed, kneeling down next to the prince's head. Her fingers dance along his jaw, tracing the outline of his ear. "What a beautiful princess,” she says teasingly.

“I’m a prince,” the fae Prince spits back.

The king chuckles darkly. "Oh, really? Then why do you have a pussy?" He growls, pulling back the prince's legs, exposing the prince's sex to the queen. "See? Even your body knows the truth." The king leans forward, his lips brushing against the prince's ear. "You belong to me now, and I will make you obey."

The queen runs her tongue along her lips, her gaze fixed on the exposed flesh between the prince's legs. She reaches out, teasing the sensitive skin with her fingertips before slowly, deliberately running her finger over the crown of the prince's sex. The prince arches into the touch, moaning in desire despite himself.

The king watches them with a predatory glint in his eye. He pulls back the prince's head roughly, exposing his neck, and bites down hard, drawing blood. "You belong to me now, my pet," he growls. "And I'm going to enjoy every second of owning you." He leans forward, his hot breath tickling the prince's ear. "Do you want to feel pleasure, my pretty princess?"

The queen smirks, running her fingers through the prince's hair. "Oh, I think he does," she says, her voice a husky purr. She trails her fingertips down the prince's chest, teasing another nipple into hardness. The prince arches into her touch, moaning loudly.

The king watches them, his eyes dark with desire. He leans down, his breath hot against the prince's neck. "Do you want to feel it?" he asks, his voice rough with need. "Do you want me to give you pleasure?"

“Stop,” the face prince calls out.

The king ignores him, pressing their hips together. The queen watches them. “Breed him, my love. Make the wretched fae bear our children.”

The king chuckles darkly, untying his pants ye reveal his 9” cock.

"Do you really think you have a choice?" he asks, pressing his hips against the prince. "You're ours now. And I think you're going to enjoy this." He pushes forward, guiding his cock to the prince's entrance. The prince lets out a gasp as he feels himself being stretched by the king's size. "You're so tight," the king groans, beginning to thrust slowly inside the prince. "And you feel so good." Magic builds, growing hot between them.

The queen watches them intently, her hand moving to stroke her own aching sex. She's never felt so much power, so much desire. She leans forward, taking one of the prince's nipples into her mouth, sucking hard as she watches the expression on his face. He's in so much pain, and yet he's responding to their touch, his body betraying him.

The king's thrusts grow deeper, harder, faster. He groans with pleasure as he feels the prince's walls clench around him. He reaches down, grabbing one of the prince's hips roughly, holding him still for his next thrust. "You belong to me now," he growls, his breath hot against the prince's ear. "You'll never be free of my touch."

The queen watches them, her own desire growing with every passing moment. She trails her fingers down the prince's chest, teasing another nipple into hardness. "Oh, look at how he responds to your touch," she says, her voice husky with desire. "Fertility is so needy for your cock."

The king thrusts harder, his hips slapping against the prince's ass. He grips the prince's hair, holding his head back, exposing his throat. The prince arches into the queen's touch, moaning in pleasure as she teases his nipples.

The queen watches them, her gaze moving between the king's thrusting hips and the prince's pleasured expression. "You like that, don't you?" she asks, her voice a low purr. "You like feeling owned, claimed. You like being our little breeding pet." The king growls in response, his hips moving even faster.

The room fills with the sounds of their passionate coupling: grunts, moans, and the slapping of flesh against flesh. The king climaxes heavily, pouring his seed into the prince's waiting body, deep into the fertile womb.

The queen watches them, her own arousal escalating as she imagines the life growing within the prince's body. "You're going to give us beautiful children," she whispers, stroking the king's back. "Strong, healthy fae children."

The king leans over, kissing the prince roughly before pulling away. He looks down at the prince's face, flushed with pleasure and pain. "I own you now," he growls, his voice dark with triumph. "You belong to me."

The queen smiles, her eyes bright with satisfaction. "Yes," she agrees, running her fingers through the prince's sweaty hair. "You are ours. Our little pet for breeding and pleasure."

Over the next few days, the scientists confirm his pregnancy, filled with multiples that are offspring of the fae prince.

The queen orders the prince to be kept well fed and rested, as he will be needed to produce more heirs in the future. The king visits him daily, using him for his pleasure, claiming his body as his own. The prince is left feeling empty and used, but he can't help the way his body responds to their touch.

No one refers to him as “Prince” anymore, only “Fertility”. With each passing day he forgets he had another name at all.

The king's visits become less about pleasure and more about ownership and magical powers. He forces himself into the prince's body, claiming him as his own, leaving the prince bruised and aching. The queen watches them with a satisfied smile, occasionally joining in to show her dominance as well. They remind him of his place in their world, that he is nothing more than a vessel for their desires and offspring.

Without the prince, the fae realm grows weaker.

The scientists inspect him deeply, inserting their devices inside of him.

The queen watches them with interest, her expression calculating. "I trust you've found what you were looking for," she says coldly. "Now we can begin the process of... harvesting it."

The scientists nod grimly, and the king growls in agreement. They lead the prince away from the queen, who seems to relish the sight of their suffering. They take him to a dark room, filled with strange machinery and devices. The prince struggles against his bonds, feeling a desperate need to escape, but it's futile.

“We must make sure that YOU cannot breed another, but that you can always be bred yourself,” the scientist says.

The king steps forward, his expression dark. "You will not only be our source of power, but you will also be our little toy. Our breeding slave. You will belong to us for the rest of your life." He grips the prince's chin roughly, forcing him to meet his gaze. "Do you understand?"

The prince tries to spit in his face, but the king merely laughs. "Good boy. Now, we begin."

The scientists do not worry about numbing his genitalia before they begin, slicing at the last thing that could be called a “manhood”.

The prince screams in agony, his voice hoarse from the previous days of abuse. Blood pours from the wound, staining the cold metal table beneath him. The scientists work quickly, sewing up the open wound and attaching tubes to it. They force a strange, translucent crystal into his open wound, sealing it shut. The crystal glows with an unearthly light, seemingly feeding off his pain.

The king watches, a cruel smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He leans in close, breathing heavily on the prince's neck. "You see, my pet? This is what happens when you try to resist your fate. You belong to us now, body and soul.”

The prince struggles against the restraints, his body wracked with sobs as he tries to comprehend the extent of his new reality. The scientists finish their work, stepping back to admire their handiwork.

The king leans in closer, running a rough finger down the prince's bloody chest. "You're going to be very special now, my pet. You're going to feel... different. More... full." He trails off, his voice taking on a strange, hungry quality. "The crystal we put inside of you, it's going to change you. It's going to make you more fertile, more... pliable. And every time we use you, every time we take what we need from you, it's going to grow brighter."

The prince whimpers, tears streaming down his face. He tries to close his legs, but they're held apart by a cold metal bar. He can feel the king's hot breath on his thighs, smell the metallic scent of his blood mingling with his own sweat. "Please," he manages to choke out. "Please, just let me die."

#kdnprp #fingring #inside #mpreg #machine #monsterfking??? #t #belonging #story

[xxxtyty]

As the cool, damp earth squelched beneath my heels, I could feel the weight of my chains dragging me forward like an exhausted dog. My hands were bound tightly behind my back, my wrists raw and aching from the iron grip of the metal. My once-majestic crown had been ripped from my head, its jewels scattered like broken glass upon the forest floor. The soldiers of the rival king marched me through the dense woods, their rough hands and weapons at the ready, as if I were some wild animal that might suddenly lash out and attack.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of humiliation and torment, we emerged from the trees onto a clearing. There, before me, stood the rival king himself, his throne of polished black stone towering over the crowd of onlookers. His dark eyes glinted with triumph as he surveyed his captive. Without a word, he gestured for me to be brought forward. My legs wobbled as I stumbled forward, the chains rattling ominously.

The soldiers roughly pushed me to my knees in front of the throne. I felt the cold steel of a sword press against my neck, reminding me of my vulnerability. The rival king leaned forward, his breath hot against my ear. "So," he drawled, "you thought you could take what wasn't yours, didn't you?" He gave a cruel laugh. "Well, now it's time for you to pay the price."

Guards on either side of me grasped my shoulders and tugged, forcing my body upright. My breasts strained against the thin fabric of my shift as their calloused hands groped and squeezed. I wanted nothing more than to slap them away, to regain some semblance of dignity, but I knew that would only earn me a brutal punishment.

With a flourish, the rival king drew back his arm, revealing a gleaming dagger. "I am going to enjoy this," he purred, his voice laced with malice. He reached out and slowly, deliberately, began to cut away the fabric of my shift. The cool air caressed my bare skin as the material fell away, revealing more of my body with each tear.

I closed my eyes, feeling the heat of humiliation wash over me as I was stripped naked before the entire court. The king continued his brutal assault on my modesty, tearing away the last remnants of my clothing until I stood before him completely exposed. His gaze raked over my body, taking in every inch of my skin.

"You know, I've always wondered what it would be like to breed with a man... and a woman, all at once," he mused aloud, his voice laced with lust. He reached out and roughly cupped my breasts in his hands, squeezing them roughly. "And you, my dear, are the perfect specimen to test out my theory."

He stood up, towering over me, and roughly pushed me forward until I was kneeling at his feet. "Spread your legs," he commanded, his voice a low growl. I felt a tremor of fear and revulsion course through my body as I obeyed, spreading my legs wide apart. "That's it," he purred, running his hands up and down my thighs, his touch cold and cruel. "You see, I'm not just going to use you as a breeding mare, I'm going to enjoy you too."

The king reached down between my legs, his fingers rough and demanding as they parted my folds. I gasped as his touch found my most sensitive spot, his thumb roughly circling my t-dick. "You like that?" he taunted, his voice a low rumble. "You like feeling your master touch you there?"

My t-dick throbbed in response to his touch, growing harder as I felt the familiar tug of arousal. "Yes," I managed to choke out, my body betraying me despite my will to resist. "Please, stop."

The rival king's dark eyes flashed with amusement. "Oh, I'm not going to stop," he purred, his fingers continuing their relentless assault on my most sensitive spot. "I'm just getting started." He leaned forward, his breath hot against my ear as he whispered, "You see, I've been dreaming of this moment for so long... of claiming you as my own. Breeding you."

His fingers were merciless, teasing and taunting my t-dick, driving me closer and closer to the edge of release. My body arched helplessly into his touch, desperate for release, but he seemed to take pleasure in my suffering. "Ahhh, you're so close," he murmured, his breath hot against my skin. "Just let go... give in to the pleasure."

I felt a shudder run through me as his thumb found my most sensitive spot once again, circling relentlessly. "Please," I begged, my voice ragged and hoarse. "I can't take any more."

But the rival king only smiled, his dark eyes glittering with cruelty. "Oh, you'll take it," he assured me, his fingers tightening their grip on my t-dick. "You'll take everything I give you, and you'll beg for more."

With that, he roughly pulled my t-dick into his hand, wrapping his fingers around it and beginning to stroke in a long, hard rhythm. My body arched in response, pleasure and pain intertwining as his grip grew firmer, his touch more demanding. I felt a shudder run through me, the sensation building and building until I could no longer contain it.

"Ahhhhhhhhh!" I cried out, my body convulsing as release crashed over me in a wave of bliss. My t-dick throbbed in his hand, hot cum spilling over his fingers and down onto the cool marble floor. I felt utterly exposed and used, my body still quivering from the intense sensations that had coursed through me.

The rival king leaned forward, his breath hot against my ear as he whispered, "There now, that's what I've been waiting for. That's what happens when you belong to me." He slowly withdrew his hand, relishing in the feel of my spent cum on his skin. "I think it's time I claimed you properly."

He stood up, towering over me, and roughly pushed me onto my back. With a cruel smile, he unbuckled his belt and let it fall to the floor. His cock, already hard and throbbing, sprang free from his trousers. In one swift movement, he positioned himself between my spread legs, the head of his dick pressing against my opening.

"You're going to feel so full," he growled, his dark eyes boring into mine. "So owned." With a force that made me cry out in pain, he thrust his hips forward, driving his cock deep inside me. I arched my back, feeling the thick length of him stretch me beyond anything I'd ever known. "Oh yes," he hissed, "you're taking it all."

His thrusts became faster, harder, each one pushing him deeper inside me. I felt the hot, salty liquid of his seed spilling into me with each stroke, claiming me as his own. He gripped my hips tightly, holding me in place as he used my body for his pleasure. I could feel my insides clenching around him, trying to hold on to his cock as he relentlessly pumped it inside me.

"That's it," he growled, his eyes blazing with lust. "Let me take everything from you." His hands moved to my shoulders, digging into my flesh as he held me down, his body pressing against mine with a force that made it difficult to breathe. His hips slammed against me, driving his cock deeper still, and with each thrust, I felt myself falling further under his spell.

The pain mingled with the pleasure, making it impossible to distinguish one from the other. I tried to beg him to stop, to let me catch my breath, but the words caught in my throat and came out garbled and incoherent. I arched my back, feeling the familiar tingle in my spine as I neared the edge of orgasm.

"That's it," he growled, his thrusts becoming even faster and harder. His hips slammed against me, driving his cock deeper inside me with each stroke. "Let go," he whispered, his hot breath fanning across my ear. "Give in to it."

I felt my body tensing, the familiar sensation building up inside me. I tried to resist, to hold back, but his words, his touch, it was all too much. I could feel the orgasm welling up inside me, threatening to break free at any moment.

"Yes," he growled, sensing my impending release. "Let it happen." His thrusts grew even harder, his hips slamming against me with a force that left me breathless. His hands dug into my shoulders, holding me down as he took control of my body and my pleasure.

My orgasm crashed over me in a wave of pure bliss. I arched my back, my muscles tensing as I cried out his name. He felt it too, sensing the change in my body, and his own climax followed quickly behind. With a final, brutal thrust, he emptied himself deep inside me, his hot seed filling me up completely.

As he finally pulled out, he collapsed on top of me, their weight pressing me into the cold, hard floor. His breath came in ragged gasps as he struggled to catch his own breath. I felt his lips move against my ear, but I couldn't make out what he was saying. His weight was crushing me, but I didn't have the strength to push him off.

[xxxtyty]

My knees bruised, I struggle hard against the chains, glaring at you. “I’d rather die than give in to the enemy of my father,” I say stubbornly. My dress shows much more skin than I was use to, more than many have seen.

10:19:02

FertileAndThick:

I laugh, a deep throat laugh as i lean forward. "We will see how long you think that way. " i wave my hand at the guards, they all leave the room, i grab you hair and make you look up at me "You're going to give in whether you want to or not. They say there's power in royal blood. Power id like my offspring to have" i smirk, you know what I'm going to do with you immediately.

G-PrincessEliza:

My eyes widen at that, realizing suddenly. “You will NOT,” I say, my bratty entitled upbringing making me try ordering you around. I try and fight against you.

FertileAndThick:

I just laugh at your attempts, standing up and grabbing your chain. I drag you from the throne room. Passing by many doors, half of which you can see inside of, your maids, female workers all being ravaged. I push open the door to yiur parents bedroom, a the biggest bed in the kingdom in the middle. The entire way youre dragged, youre being choked by the chain. I look smirk as i move a large cabinet in front of the door, the windows sealed already, no where for you to go. Nothing fir you to grab to fight back with. I undo your chains

G-PrincessEliza:

I back into the corner like a wild animal, against a wall as I try and look around for something hard to fight back with, but this room is stripped clean. My neck is red for the chains, being pulled, my vision fading in and out as I breathe back in oxygen

FertileAndThick:

I smirk, walking over to you slowly. Undoing the armor around my waist and legs, letting it fall until only a thing pair of underpants remain. You can see the thick bulge behind them, running Down my thigh. "What was that you said? I will not? " i laugh again, "come here princess. Make your family proud. "

G-PrincessEliza:

“I will NOT obey the enemy of my father!” I say with venom, trying to run to the other side of the room as you approach me. My dress makes me slower despite its tattered frame.

No user with nickname 'G-Shane43_PublicUse' is currently online

No user with nickname 'G-Shane43_PublicUse' is currently online

FertileAndThick:

As you run by i let you try to escape, knowing you won't, waiting until you run back, to the other side, i grab you by your throat, squeezing hard. "Good girl. So loyal to your king.. but im your king now, do you understand? And you will obey" i say, grabbing the front of your dress as i hold your throat. Letting you stand on you tiptoes, my other hand rips your dress off of you hard, causing small friction burns on parts of your arms and back. The dress falling from my hand to the floor, you now only in panties before i rip them open roo. The reality setting in that you're helpless. "Oh yeah... you'll do" i say with a perverted glance over your body. Throwing you into the bed and pinning you to it before you can react. Pinned on your stomach, you feel my thick cock fall out over your ass and up your back, the only thing you can see as your pinned is a painting of your parents beside the bed

G-PrincessEliza:

I grab pathetically at the bed, trying to crawl away but your grip is so tight… my ass exposed, pussy glintingly visible, fallen from royalty to a toy for your pleasure. “I will never consider you my king!” I cry out, voice cracking and exposing my fear that is growing. “You’re a coward of a man!”

FertileAndThick:

I just chuckle in your ear as i get close to it. "Youre nothing but a pretty toy now" i say. Pulling my hips back, my thick tipagainst your bare pink slit. "Let them hear you in the afterlife" i whisper as you stare at the painting, my fat tip pushing hard, something you've never felt, growling lightly as i have to push very hard just to get the tip inside. Sighing if relief as it pops in. My arms around you tight as i push down with every bit of my weight. Making every inch fit so fast and ruthless

G-PrincessEliza:

I cry out loudly, making a noise I have never thought I could make, somewhere between a cry and a moan in pain, loud for all the guards to hear. My slit quickly tries to wetten itself, evolution not caring if I enjoy it or not. “Stop!” I scream as I feel you warm your cock in me, pulsing inside, my body tightening and milking you.

FertileAndThick:

I growl through my teeth as i feel how tight you are. "Ill stop when I'm done, whore" i say before i start to thrust hard. Paced out sudden thrusts, "Your screams are just too pretty to stop" i tease you. Loving how you still try to claw at the bed to get away. Your legs nearly going numb from how rough i just made you stretch

G-PrincessEliza:

Over and over I feel you tear me in two, each thrust seemingly bigger and more forceful than the last. I cry out each time, noises never elicited from me, as you deflower me and take what is so rightfully yours.

FertileAndThick:

I grunt each thrust, "they weren't lying about one thing. Mm royal pussy is definitely the best" i pang, starting to get rougher, drilling your pretty lil body, soon i just watch you go limp, your strong will beginning to slip as you're brutally claimed

G-PrincessEliza:

I grow tired, exhausted, feeling my body used over and over until my wet slit leaks, the noise warm and sticky. “It hurts,” I whimper, a cold chill running through me as o hear you laugh.

FertileAndThick:

(Rough or lovey rp?)

G-PrincessEliza:

(Rough pleeeeease)

FertileAndThick:

(Okay~)

G-PrincessEliza:

My knees bruised, I struggle hard against the chains, glaring at you. “I’d rather die than give in to the enemy of my father,” I say stubbornly. My dress shows much more skin than I was use to, more than many have seen.

FertileAndThick:

I laugh, a deep throat laugh as i lean forward. "We will see how long you think that way. " i wave my hand at the guards, they all leave the room, i grab you hair and make you look up at me "You're going to give in whether you want to or not. They say there's power in royal blood. Power id like my offspring to have" i smirk, you know what I'm going to do with you immediately.

G-PrincessEliza:

My eyes widen at that, realizing suddenly. “You will NOT,” I say, my bratty entitled upbringing making me try ordering you around. I try and fight against you.

FertileAndThick:

I just laugh at your attempts, standing up and grabbing your chain. I drag you from the throne room. Passing by many doors, half of which you can see inside of, your maids, female workers all being ravaged. I push open the door to yiur parents bedroom, a the biggest bed in the kingdom in the middle. The entire way youre dragged, youre being choked by the chain. I look smirk as i move a large cabinet in front of the door, the windows sealed already, no where for you to go. Nothing fir you to grab to fight back with. I undo your chains

G-PrincessEliza:

I back into the corner like a wild animal, against a wall as I try and look around for something hard to fight back with, but this room is stripped clean. My neck is red for the chains, being pulled, my vision fading in and out as I breathe back in oxygen

FertileAndThick:

I smirk, walking over to you slowly. Undoing the armor around my waist and legs, letting it fall until only a thing pair of underpants remain. You can see the thick bulge behind them, running Down my thigh. "What was that you said? I will not? " i laugh again, "come here princess. Make your family proud. "

G-PrincessEliza:

“I will NOT obey the enemy of my father!” I say with venom, trying to run to the other side of the room as you approach me. My dress makes me slower despite its tattered frame.

No user with nickname 'G-Shane43_PublicUse' is currently online

No user with nickname 'G-Shane43_PublicUse' is currently online

FertileAndThick:

As you run by i let you try to escape, knowing you won't, waiting until you run back, to the other side, i grab you by your throat, squeezing hard. "Good girl. So loyal to your king.. but im your king now, do you understand? And you will obey" i say, grabbing the front of your dress as i hold your throat. Letting you stand on you tiptoes, my other hand rips your dress off of you hard, causing small friction burns on parts of your arms and back. The dress falling from my hand to the floor, you now only in panties before i rip them open roo. The reality setting in that you're helpless. "Oh yeah... you'll do" i say with a perverted glance over your body. Throwing you into the bed and pinning you to it before you can react. Pinned on your stomach, you feel my thick cock fall out over your ass and up your back, the only thing you can see as your pinned is a painting of your parents beside the bed

G-PrincessEliza:

I grab pathetically at the bed, trying to crawl away but your grip is so tight… my ass exposed, pussy glintingly visible, fallen from royalty to a toy for your pleasure. “I will never consider you my king!” I cry out, voice cracking and exposing my fear that is growing. “You’re a coward of a man!”

FertileAndThick:

I just chuckle in your ear as i get close to it. "Youre nothing but a pretty toy now" i say. Pulling my hips back, my thick tipagainst your bare pink slit. "Let them hear you in the afterlife" i whisper as you stare at the painting, my fat tip pushing hard, something you've never felt, growling lightly as i have to push very hard just to get the tip inside. Sighing if relief as it pops in. My arms around you tight as i push down with every bit of my weight. Making every inch fit so fast and ruthless

G-PrincessEliza:

I cry out loudly, making a noise I have never thought I could make, somewhere between a cry and a moan in pain, loud for all the guards to hear. My slit quickly tries to wetten itself, evolution not caring if I enjoy it or not. “Stop!” I scream as I feel you warm your cock in me, pulsing inside, my body tightening and milking you.

FertileAndThick:

I growl through my teeth as i feel how tight you are. "Ill stop when I'm done, whore" i say before i start to thrust hard. Paced out sudden thrusts, "Your screams are just too pretty to stop" i tease you. Loving how you still try to claw at the bed to get away. Your legs nearly going numb from how rough i just made you stretch

G-PrincessEliza:

Over and over I feel you tear me in two, each thrust seemingly bigger and more forceful than the last. I cry out each time, noises never elicited from me, as you deflower me and take what is so rightfully yours.

FertileAndThick:

I grunt each thrust, "they weren't lying about one thing. Mm royal pussy is definitely the best" i pang, starting to get rougher, drilling your pretty lil body, soon i just watch you go limp, your strong will beginning to slip as you're brutally claimed

G-PrincessEliza:

I grow tired, exhausted, feeling my body used over and over until my wet slit leaks, the noise warm and sticky. “It hurts,” I whimper, a cold chill running through me as o hear you laugh.

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FertileAndThick:

I laugh "I gave you a chance to obey.. remember this pain the next time i ask you to do your duty. " i say, grabbing your hair and pulling your head back, making you look at your parents big mirror as you're brutally broken. Growling harder as i ram every inch in and cum so hard. You feel it start to flood you. Me shaking she panting as i do. Finally pulling out but still throbbing hard at your little pussy gapes

G-PrincessEliza:

Some cum trickles out of me, but most is sucked up happily by my body, letting my eggs be fertilized by your strong, healthy seed. “Mmm…” I whimper pathetically, trying to crawl away again to no avail against your strong grip.

FertileAndThick:

I lightly pant and lean down. "Now.. are you going to be a good girl? " i ask, your cute soft ass so exposed.. so easy to be taken next

G-PrincessEliza:

“I… thought you were done…” I say, scrambling to try and get away.

FertileAndThick:

I chuckle evilly. "You should have said yes. " i growl, my fat tip pushes against your tiny pink rim. Watching your eyes go wide in the mirror. Your miuth opening like you were about to say something as my fat tip makes itself fit, being just as ruthless as before, pushing deep into your stomach, rearranging your insides

G-PrincessEliza:

I make another new sound, my virginity of both holes taken so crudely and quickly, the sensation making me stare at myself in the mirror, watching you thrust deeply into me. “No!” I scream, my maids hearing me in the rooms over, their own monarch brought to nothing but a bedwarming toy.

FertileAndThick:

I just hum with primal pleasure as you scream and squeal. "This is your fault princess... you made a stupid decision" i growl, thrusting every inch in again, watching your tears run Down your cheeks in the mirror, your legs fully numb now as you're broken completely

[xxxtyty]

[xxxtyty]

Songbird

#audio #kdnprp #fingring #inside #mpreg #monsterfking???

[xxxtyty]

[xxxtyty]

The woman in the mirror

#belonging #kdnprp #audio #machine

[xxxtyty]

[xxxtyty]

#belonging #kdnprp

[xxxtyty]

#ftm nsfw #kdnprp #audio #t