Camille, the young nineteen year-old handmaiden to the cruel Princess Mariana, once again found herself turning to Counselor Victor for comfort. She sat in his lap, as always. That was one of the rules he had. She could tell him whatever he wanted, but she had to sit on his lap, first.

“It was awful!” Camille shuddered. She was so glad the Counselor was there, that he was so strong when she felt so weak. “She took Ana, that damned Tryptian whore, and just led her face down between her lap as I was right there! I was brushing the Princess's hair, and she just stops to get her cunny licked by someone else! Can you believe it?”

Victor tsked. “Tell me about that.”

“Well Ana, I mean, she's beautiful. That dark skin, you know. It's like chocolate. If I wasn't so in love with the Princess myself, I would be happy to watch someone like her lick someone like that. And Ana—she looked so scared at first! Like she wasn't really enjoying it, but she had to, because otherwise Princess Mariana would punish her somehow?”

Camille ran a hand down her half-open blouse. How had it gotten so open? Oh well. Victor was so nice. He wouldn't mind her cooling off. She tweaked a nipple. Her open blouse revealed a tautly muscled young torso.

“That's kind of hot, actually,” Camille admitted. “The look in her eyes, like that. Scared, but accepting. Right before she dove in, it looked like she was smiling. Like being that close to the Princess's pussy just turned her on too much. I'm just . . . I'm just jealous, is all.”

They were in his office in his tower, located in the back of Fairmount Palace. The room was spacious, filled with piles of books on every table and desk, with long groups of flasks and burners off to one corner in the back.

His tower was sometimes known to the locals as the Cruel Spiral, due to allegations that he would kidnap portions of the populace and experiment on them—Camille didn't buy into such things, of course. Victor had never been anything but lovely to her. That's why she came straight to him with news like this.

His lap was expansive, as Victor was a large man. He had a shaved head, and a dark, trimmed beard, and was rather young to be a Counselor.

She knew he was actually the youngest Counselor in the Kingdom for over five hundred years. Counselors were the right hands of the King, offering advice to the throne and enacting royal wills on the populace. Normally, there were two or three or even four Counselors at one time. But Victor was the only one the King had currently.

His rise to power had come after a series of unfortunate deaths, sudden retirements, and one case of thorough madness from his long line of predecessors. They all had Victor as an apprentice, and much suspicion had at one time been cast upon him; but of course, he was innocent. If he wasn't innocent, how had he gotten the job?

“How does that make you feel, dearie?”

Camille shook her head, her thick, long dark hair sweeping across her svelte form. She had to struggle to look into his piercing, ice-blue gaze for long. His eyes felt like they were breaking her mind apart, but in a good way. The way that cinnamon broke apart on top of a hot cup of tea.

It felt sometimes like this was all so very wrong. That she shouldn't be sitting in his lap like this. That she should be fighting, perhaps. Or running away. Or telling someone she knew about what they discussed. But, then she would come up to him and complain, and he would calmly explain how much he cared for her and make her a special little drink that made all her cares go away.

Still, every little while, the thought crept back up. Why was she still a handmaiden? She remembered the herbalist, Dell, had offered her a job tending the garden, to be an apprentice underneath him. She even remembered being excited about it. Camille loved herbs, loved plants, loved watching the way they twisted and grew and vibrated with the force of the planet.

But after she discussed the idea with Victor, it seemed like not a good idea at all. She made fun of Dell as she rejected him, called him a dirty old man. Victor suggested it all, and  Camille listened. The beautiful young brunette was lucky she had. The Counselor had made so many good decisions for her.

Victor's hand was on her thigh, fingers thumping along. He was so patient.

“It makes me feel . . . I don't know. It makes me wish that your love potion would hurry up and work.”

When Camille had revealed her love for the Princess—it was only a short time after she turned down the apprenticeship that she had realized her affection, making Victor's suggestion that she turn down Dell even better—Victor had crafted her a love potion to use.

It looked awfully similar to the little drinks he made her, but Victor promised her that it wasn't the same. And it felt so good to trust Victor. He was so right and strong.

He nodded sagely. “Yes, I can see how you would want it to work. Though I would proposition that it already is.”

She looked puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“Have you noticed any—shall we say—other instances of amorous activity of the Princess before this?”

“Oh, no. Not at all.”

Princess Mariana was well-known throughout the kingdom for being rather icy. Glacial, as a matter of fact, when it came to romance. At eighteen, she was years beyond the proper age of betrothal. But her father, the King, was wrapped around her pretty finger, and let her do whatever she wanted.

It was easy to let Mariana do whatever she wanted. The young blond was beyond gorgeous—most of the populace was convinced she was a living divinity, some physical form of one of the Seven Divines.

There was a saying—as Princess Mariana went, so went the Kingdom of Elysia. Certainly the King went along with anything she had to say, even more so since his wife's death some years past.

“Well,” Victor ran a hand through her hair. Camille trembled again, harder this time. She could feel it in her nipples, starting to stand up firmly against the loose cloth of her half-open blouse. “I would take that as a good sign, my dear. She was obviously overcome with emotion in your presence. Perhaps, being so long without a partner, or without any real affection, she simply didn't know how to proposition you correctly?”

Camille nodded eagerly. That made perfect sense. Victor was always making such good sense.

When she had first come to him, weeks ago, he made sense right away. Well, she hadn't so much come to him as he had shown up in her quarters. But then he took out his wonderful crystal of truth.

He explained, quite well, how no one could lie when the crystal was taken out.

Look at how well it sparkled and shined. It was impossible to think that anything he said was something other than the truth, wasn't it? Wasn't that crystal nice?

That night, he revealed how much he cared for her. How he saw her as a daughter, or maybe a little sister. And how she needed to confide in him.

When Camille had first started talking to Victor, she believed silly things—like that she didn't want to be a handmaiden forever, even a royal one. That she had big, grand aspirations. Become an apprentice to someone. Maybe the herbalist? Maybe even be the royal herbalist someday?

Victor helped her realize that was just part of her latent repression of her sexuality. That what she really wanted was to fall in the arms of sweet, gorgeous Princess Mariana, and lick her pussy forever after.

“I think you must be right, Counselor Victor,” she said sweetly. “It's just...it's so hard to see things how you do, sometimes. You're so wise and kind.”

“Perhaps my little crystal could make things a bit more clear?”

“Oh yes,” she said breathily, her chest heaving, one hand coming up to paw at his bicep. “Please, let me look into the crystal again?”

“Very well,” he said, reaching into his pocket. “Assume the truth position, my dear.”

Obediently, she slid off his lap, and knelt down in front of him. Staring up at him with her deep, dark brown eyes. He had explained to her that this was the only proper way to receive the truth he had to deliver.

“The oath, first.”

The young beauty nodded, her pouty lips forming a serious line. She knew the oath by heart. She held a hand to one breast, tweaking a nipple, as she raised her other hand in the air.

“I hereby promise to honor the crystal of truth, to recognize its power, to open my mind to its revelations, no matter how strange or foreign, and to enact its vision however I may.”

“Good girl.”

Camille felt a slickness in her thighs at his words—in fact, at just saying the oath. That was new. When he took out the crystal from a pocket in his robes, the slickness intensified a hundredfold.

“Let's start with some affirmation, yes?”

“Affirmation,” Camille said, her voice sleepy. “Yes.”

Her mind was barely capable of describing the crystal, its effects. She felt like she was swimming in the universe, in the time before time began, bumping up against all the vibrations of the stars.

“You trust me.”

She nodded slowly. “I trust you.”

“I am your counselor.”

“You are my counselor.”

“My words are always right.”

“Your words are always right.”

He stroked her face. His touch so gentle, so caring. She moaned appreciatively. The wetness between her thighs increased.

“You love Princess Mariana.”

She nodded eagerly. “I love Princess Mariana.”

“She deserves to be Queen, right away.”

“She deserves to be Queen, right away.”

Camille's hand was still on one nipple, tweaking and fondling. Had it been there the whole time? Oh well. It was wonderful. Victor was wonderful. And so right.

“You'll do anything to make this happen.”

“I'll do anything to make this happen.”

“Touch your clit, dear. Finger your hot little pussy. You'll listen better.”

Camille complied with a moan. That made perfect sense. With as slick as she was, her fingers slid right in.

“I am the true King of this realm.”

“You are the . . .” she fingered herself harder, struggling to make it make sense.

“The true king of this realm. Remember your oath, Camille. Open your mind.”

Yes. Open her mind. Be a good girl. Her fingers pumped in and out, the soft wet noises filling up the space between her and the crystal.

“True king,” moaned Camille. “Mind open.”

“I am the true King of this realm.”

“You are the true King of this realm.”

She just trust Victor. So much. He had to be telling the truth. If she had been able to see herself, she would know that her eyes—deep dark brown—had been turned shining and blue as she stared into the crystal.

“The current King is an imposter.”

“The current King is an imposter.”

Yes, of course he was. Victor was the true King of the realm. The current King had to be an imposter.

“He deserves to die for his treasonous crime.”

“He deserves to die for his treasonous crime.”

They repeated this a few more times. It was drilled thoroughly into her head.

“The Princess deserves a real King.”

“The Princess deserves a real King.”

This only made sense. Camille's fingers plunged ever deeper into her cunt, her thumb working harder on her hot little clit. A puddle had started to form underneath her. Yes. A real King for Mariana.

“The Princess deserves me.”

“The Princess deserves you.”

Yes, oh yes. Victor was the Real King. Mariana deserved a Real King. She deserved Victor. Of course she did.

“Princesses should serve a true King's every need.”

“Princesses should . . . should serve . . .”

“Princesses should serve a true King's every need.”

“Princesses should serve a true . . . a true . . .”

Camille whined. This was starting to feel wrong again. Her hot little fingers in her snatch began to slow.

Victor stood up for a moment, taking the crystal with him. Some of Camille's fog started to clear. Victor was . . . was a King? Was that right? It had to be, because he said it, and yet . . .

 He returned with a goblet in his hand.

“You should drink this.”

Camille nodded blankly. “I should drink this.”

The liquid was warm, thick, full of happiness and warmth. It wasn't wine, not exactly, because it was too milky and smooth, but it was red and had the tinge of alcohol. Just like every time before that she had drained this sort of drink, Camille felt like she was flying. She let the goblet clank down to the ground from an empty, strengthless hand.

“Princesses should serve a true King's every need.”

Her cunt felt afire Her fingers slid in and out with renewed vigor. She felt her orgasm fast approaching.

“Princesses should seerve aaa truuue King's. Mmmmm. Oh. Every need.”

“I am the True King.”

“You are the Truuue King.”

“Princess Mariana should serve me.”

Camille's fingers were deep in her pussy now, her thumb riding ceaselessly over her clit. It was sooo good.

“Focus, girl. Give yourself a nice little cum, and focus.”

Camille came almost immediately, her hips bucking as her melting hot pussy vibrated with pleasure. It was the command. She just had to do what he said, and it was so easy to obey him. He was sooo strong.

She had closed her eyes when she came, but when she opened them, the crystal was right there.

“Princess Mariana should serve me.”

“Princess Mariana should serve you.”

Camille licked her lips. Mariana wasn't the only one who should serve Victor.

“You serve Princess Mariana.”

“I serve Princess Mariana.”

“You should serve me.”

Camille's hand had snaked up his robes, gleefully finding the lack of any impediment to his already completely hard cock.

“I should serve you,” she purred.

“I am your King.” His voice getting ragged now.

She made her strokes long, using her thumb around his cockhead to spread the precum around. Before long, his entire shaft was slick.

“You are my King.”

He pushed forward, his cock right in front of her face now.

“My cock is the only one you need.”

“Your cock is the only one I need.” Her voice breathy, hot, tinged with the need he prescribed.

“You want to be filled by my kingcock.”

“I want to be filled by your kingcock.”

Drool was sliding past her lips, running down her chin. She could not help but lick his perfect shaft as he spoke. It tasted an awful lot like the substance from the goblet. How wonderful.

“You want to be bred by my seed.”

“I want to be bred by your seed.”

Victor grabbed her by her incredible volume of hair and shoved her forward on her cock. She had no say in the matter anymore, no control. He slid her back and forth, up and down his shaft, and she simply complied like a good servant. One of his hands still held the crystal over her eyes, completely transfixing her.

“I am your King,” he said. “I am your Master. I own you. I own your cunt. I own your womb.”

She moaned out affirmatives each time. Her hot lips stayed slick on his shaft, and she made sure her tongue was actively adoring every precious inch of Master's flesh that she felt. He was so good to her.

He was so delicious and perfect. She was his. He owned her. Her MasterKingOwner. He was so perfect.

Her big, lovely tits were mashing up against his knees as he fucked her pretty face. He wasn't slowing down. She didn't care. It was so hot how she didn't care how hard he fucked her face. She was his plaything. He could do whatever he wanted.

“When I cum, you cum,” he ordered.

“Mmmhmmm!”

She was so close anyway. Her cunt juices had already ruined her dress. She had no idea how she was going to walk back to her quarters without being called out for being a slut. She didn't care. She was Master's slut.

She felt his balls tense up, his every muscle tighten. Then heaven arrived in her mouth in liquid form, every Divinity singing out the praises in her mind of this Masterful Lord and King who owned her. Her orgasm frolicked across her body, burying her in pleasure, even as his seed buried itself deep in her tummy. Its taste was transcendent, the feeling euphoric. The thick hot wetness slid hot down her throat, each inch of it sliding so perfectly inside of her young, willing body.

Every hot new spurt was just dirt on the grave of that silly thing she had called a will. It made her so happy to not have to worry about any thoughts but her Master's thoughts from now on.

All the bliss must have knocked her out, because when the waves of bliss finally subsided, she was on the floor, and he was walking around naked, preparing mixtures. She watched him cum—almost as if by his own will—into a flask, and then pour that into a goblet with a few other tinctures. Camille pouted—she wanted to be the one to make him cum.

He set down the tray on a stool in front of her.

“Make yourself presentable, dearie,” he said. He pointed at the tray. “The goblet goes to the Princess, that's your second trip. Your first trip is to take the bottle to the King.”

“The imposter King, Master?”

He smiled. “That's right, pet. You tell the guards it's from Dell, the herbalist. For the King's cough.”

“This will cure the King's cough?”

Master smiled. “It will seem to make the symptoms subside, for about six hours. And then all of a sudden, he will not be able to stop. He should die within the week. Do you have a problem with that?”

She shook her head. Of course not. The imposter had to be punished. Master had to assume his proper position. And Princess Mariana should serve him as the Queen.

All of these things made such perfect sense. She was so lucky Victor explained them to her.

––––––––

Mariana, finally, was back in her quarters. She loved her Royal Tower—its enormous chain of bedrooms, the voluminous bath that was the size of some common people's houses, the enormous outdoor garden that had its flowers changed out three times a day. The size of it, the opulence, the wealth dripping off the walls—these were all just reminders to her that she absolutely deserved her exalted position.

The numerous mirrors she had positioned on every wall were similar reminders. The multitude of her reflections were, of course, each fabulously stunning. Be it her thick mane of gorgeous golden blond hair, her vibrant emerald green eyes, her sensationally trim form with such perfectly shaped breasts, her exquisitely long legs, or even her face—so perfectly angelic and haughty,  ideal for her station—all of these were just reminders that she deserved her place at the top.

Furthermore, they were reminders that, if she was not one of the Seven Divines in human form (as she was so justifiably starting to believe as she grew in beauty each day), she was at the very least chosen by them to be their prophet of beauty and power to the Kingdom of Elysia.

As Mariana went, so went the Kingdom of Elysia. The Princess had heard the saying. It was quite a lot to live up to, but she felt more than up to the task. Tomorrow, she would be coronated as Queen with the ceremony on the Ten Thousand Steps, and the belief in her as the divine ruler of the country would be solidified ever more.

Her outfit certainly wasn't doing anything to disprove that belief. Today, she had on a rich crimson gown trimmed with golden chain. Her delightful breasts were on full display by the cut of the dress. Long, wide slits in the fabric started at her hips and ran the length of her scorching hot legs. Tall stiletto heels decorated her feet, with golden ribbon wrapping upward from the heels on each leg to her thighs. Her ornate crown rested perfectly in her perfectly arranged volume of golden hair, the diamonds there sparkling with every move. Elbow-length gloves, decorated again with golden chain, completed the regal look.

She was glad to be back in these quarters, alone once more. The morning had been tumultuous, to say the least. There had been an overwhelming amount of evidence to convict that damned herbalist, Dell, for killing the King.

Mariana had never had much love for her father, and in fact was rather glad to see him go. Just as she knew she deserved her position as Princess, she knew she deserved an even higher one, as the one Queen of the Realm. But still, punishments had to be dealt out. Even if Mariana didn't automatically believe he was guilty—and with his ratty grease-sponging hair and his misshapen face and body, it was hard not to—there were over twenty eyewitnesses that collaborated the story that said he had wanted to kill the king for some time now.

Still, it was quite odd how all of the witnesses just so happened to be some of the most gorgeous young women in Fairmount Palace.  And more than that, over half of them were Mariana's servants. When asked why they hadn't stopped the herbalist on their own, or why they had not alerted the guards, they simply said they never thought he was really serious.

Mariana—the final decider in these matters, after hearing the prosecution led by Counselor Victor—felt it was a simple decision to make. She could hardly say all those gorgeous maidens were lying, after all, even if she knew firsthand that a great deal of them weren't quite maidens.

The herbalist denied it all thoroughly, of course. He was quite vehement about his innocence, and seemed rather shocked when he had been assigned to the dungeons for the rest of his life. That wouldn't be much longer, Mariana knew. One could hardly let a killer of kings go on living.

She sighed. She could really use a lay. Only a month ago, that thought would have never entered her head. She would have never considered calling in one of her handmaidens to skillfully lick her pussy while she looked down and stroked the dear pet's hair, cooing softly in royal tones. But now, it was second nature.

At times, Mariana found it curious that her sexuality—now that it had finally decided to bloom—was focused so directly on women. Women were gorgeous, of course, delicious little playthings for her to admire and enjoy. But it did not seem the norm.

In her dreams, sometimes, she was pinned against a wall and fucked mercilessly by a tall man. One wearing a crown. She called him King. His shaft riding into her virgin cunt, throbbing inside her with the pulse of the universe.

But, every man she came across hardly measured up to those dreams. One of many disappointments to stomach as Princess, and soon, Queen.

She called out to the servants waiting just outside. “A drink!” she called.

There was no response.

Annoyed, she called out again.

“A drink, I said! One from Camille!”

The drinks from that particular servant were the only kind that did the job, as of late. Mariana did not know what the delectable brunette put in the beverages. She did not care. She just wanted more of them.

There was still no response.

Ready to fly into a rage, Princess Mariana strutted back across the marble floor in her magnificent heels—she had never quite learned to walk without strutting and showing off how gorgeous she was—and opened the door.

Camille was right behind the door already, holding a goblet full of the milky red liquid. Frilly little green gloves decorated her hands as they held the goblet. The dazzling brunette was smiling warmly, wearing a green silk dress, the fabric entirely sheer. It was impossible not to stare at Camille's bulging pregnant belly, her milk-engorged breasts.

Camille held the goblet up in a green-gloved hand. “Your refreshment, my Princess.”

Mariana snatched it from her, taking a sip. The euphoria swept over her instantly. Everything started to feel better.

“Where are my guards?” asked Mariana. “The other servants?”

Camille looked around. The usual posting of ten armed guards and a servant for each was nowhere to be found.

“I believe they moved down the hall,” said Camille. “To give you your privacy on this tiresome day.”

Mariana had already stopped listening. Tiresome. It was all so tiresome, that was exactly the word. She had no mind to keep track of the movements of servants.

The gorgeous royal teenager strode back inside her quarters, and found the nearest couch to slide her luxurious body on. She sipped away at her drink, enjoying its thick texture, the constant state of euphoria it spread through her hot body.

“When did you get so pregnant?” she asked.

Camille had followed Mariana, sitting at the edge of an adjacent couch. Mariana was resting deep in the pillows, almost flat, and Camille was looking down at her. The long tresses of the brunette's sparkling, soft hair tickled Mariana's face pleasantly. Everything was so pleasant.

“Oh, not too long ago, Princess. My Sir . . . his seed is so strong. I won't be pregnant for much longer.”

Mariana giggled. “That doesn't make sense, dearie. I'll have to educate you sometime about how it all works.”

“I'd love to have you educate me, Princess.”

Camille placed a hand on her shoulder. Soft, small. It was only inches away from her breast. So daring. So bold.

“Do you think I'm pretty, Princess?”

Of course she thought Camille was pretty. What a silly thing to ask. Even though she was enormously pregnant. Maybe even partly because of that. Camille was positively glowing. And her breasts, formerly delicious little morsels, had turned into amazing feasts for the eyes. Perhaps for more than just the eyes.

“Oh yes,” said Mariana.

“It's just that,” Camille opined. “You've never let me lick you like you have the other girls.”

“Really?”

Certainly that wasn't true. Mariana took a deep gulp from the goblet. Camille was so very gorgeous, and Mariana had never slept with her? That was akin to blasphemy.

“Really, Princess. And I understand if you don't think I'm attractive. It's just . . . I would very much like to.”

Mariana took another deep gulp, the warm euphoria washing over her. What a novel idea, having Camille lick her. What a fun little task for the day. She sat up a bit on the couch, spreading her legs.

“Why don't you start, then?”

Camille's face lit up. She had such a gorgeous young smile. “Wonderful! Thank you, Princess!”

She got into position between Mariana's legs, started to move downward, and then stopped suddenly.

“I'm sorry,” she said. “My necklace here is getting in the way. Let me move it.”

She pulled out from her expansive cleavage a shiny, bright crystal. Mariana could not stop staring at it. The crystal shone and shone, pouring out blue light into the expansive quarters.

“Do you like it?” asked Camille. “Master gave it to me. The same man who impregnated me. He's so very good.”

“ . . . very good . . .” said Mariana, her eyes caught on the stone.

“When the crystal is out, you have to watch it. You have to follow it.”

“Have to watch it. Follow it.” Mariana's voice had gotten very quiet.

“You know that everything I say is so true. So right.”

“Everything you say . . . so true. So right.” Mariana giggled, her eyes becoming more and more blank, even as little sparks of blue began to grow larger and larger in her pupils.

“You trust me,” said Camille.

“I trust you.”

Camille, still holding the crystal steady, slid off the Princess's panties. An easy maneuver. Mariana didn't notice at all.

“Everything I say is sooo right,” Camille said again.

“Everything you say. Sooo right.”

Camille slid one pair of gloved fingers around Mariana's pussy, stroking the folds gently.

“My words are your thoughts.”

“Your words. My thoughts.”

The goblet in Mariana's hands lost its battle with balance and tipped clumsily to the floor. The potent concoction spilled everywhere. Its hot smell slid into the overwhelming heat pouring out from the pussies of the two teenage beauties on the couch.

“Being a Princess is so hard.”

“Being Princess.” Mariana sighed deeply as Camille's fingers pressed more insistently. “Is so hard.”

“Being a Queen will be even harder.”

“Being Queen. So much harder.”

Camille's fingers were rubbing intently on Mariana's clit, now. It was such a hot little button. Camille loved it—loved everything about Mariana.

“You belong with a husband.”

“I belong with husband.”

“You belong with a King.”

Mariana nodded helplessly. “Belong. With King.”

Camille, even though she was the one holding the crystal, was still rather vulnerable to it. So even as she was helpless to do anything but follow her Master's orders and carry out the induction for him, her eyes could not help but lock on to the crystal and reinforce all these beliefs that Master laid out for the Princess. As Camille hypnotized Mariana, Camille hypnotized herself.

“Touch your tits, Princess. It's good for you to touch your hot tits.”

“Good to touch my tits.”

Mariana complied happily, sighing and then moaning as her dainty, gloved fingers adored her nipples.

“You need a man to tell you what to do.”

“I need a man . . . tell me to do.”

“Your mind is just a weak female's mind.”

“My mind issa weak. Female mind.”

“Only one man is fit to rule you.”

“Only one man fit to ruuule me.”

Camille's gloved fingers were sliding in and out of Mariana's pussy fast now, hard. It was so wet down there. Her thumb still riding over the Princess's royal teen clit. So slick and hot. Her hot little fuckglove getting so primed for a thick, hard cock inside of her.

“Only one man is fit to rule this realm.”

“One man. Only. Rule the realm.”

“You obey this man.”

“Obey this man.”

“Counselor Victor is this man.”

Mariana nodded helplessly. It all made so much sense now that Camille said it.

“Counselor Victor is man.”

“Counselor Victor is your Master.”

“Victor is Master.”

“You obey Master.”

“I obey Master.”

Mariana's voice was clouded with the need to cum. She was sooo close. She just had to keep obeying, keep repeating. That was all sooo good and so was everything else in the world, thanks to her obedience. Camille was so wonderful to teach her like this.

“You love Master.”

“Looove Master!”

“You worship Master.”

“Worshiipp Masterrr!”

“Keep saying it. You obey Master. You love Master. You worship Master.”

Camille slid her face down at last to Mariana's pussy.

She started licking immediately, relishing the Princess's sweet, royal teen cunt's juices all over her beautiful face. Master had taken so much of her mind, and justifiably so—so much of it was useless and served no purpose to Master's plan—but Camille still had enough of it to recognize that she had wanted Mariana's hot young pussy for the longest time.

Every single lick, every little nudge of her lips, every hot gasp she breathed into her darling Princess's flesh, was heaven come down to Camille.

Mariana kept chanting out, obeying happily as Camille licked her.

“Obey Master. Loove Master. Worshiip Master. Obeeyyyy Masterrr. Loooveee Master. Worrrship Masterrr. Obeeyyy Master. Looove Masterrrrr. Worshiiiiip Masterrrrr.”

Camille's tongue was so soft, so slick and insistent. Mariana came with a hot chanting scream, thrashing up and down in the couch.

“WorshIIPP MastERRR. OBEY MASterrr. LOVE Masssterrrr.”

For a moment there was silence as Mariana's mind tried to grasp what it was, exactly, that was happening. Or, it felt like silence—Mariana kept chanting, though, and there were still tiny schlicking sounds as Camille studiously attended the young Princess's pulsating cunt.

Camille slid away after a moment, though.

“Would you like to meet him, Princess? Would you like to meet your new King?”

The double-doors banged across the quarters. Counselor Victor entered the room, immediately disrobing. Mariana gasped at his sensationally cut musculature, his throbbing pecs and solid brick of abdomen muscles. And his manhood! It was monstrously huge, thick as a bottle and just as long. It would rearrange her entire life just to have him inside of her. She was desperate for such change.

He was godly. He was certainly her God. She needed to obey him. Love him. Worship him.

He closed the distance between them shortly, and put a strong hand underneath her chin.

“Hello there, Princess. I'm sorry I'm a little late. I had to convince my other special girls that fucking guards to distract them wasn't betraying my trust.”

Mariana giggled helplessly. He was saying so many things at once. It was hard to focus on them all. She just nodded, agreeing happily. “Yes, Master.”

His smile broadened. Mariana felt her cunt do backflips just from that small gesture. He pushed Camille to the floor, where she landed with a little happy giggle. Her face was smeared with Mariana's juices. That was so hot. This was all so hot. Mariana pulled at Master, guiding him downward.

“Please, Master,” she moaned. “Please, fuck me like I deserve. Fuck your Princess like no one else can.”

He said nothing, just smiling intensely. His cock was so monstrously hard. Her cunt was slick, perfectly lubricated thanks to Camille's efforts. He entered inside of her with complete ease. Every throbbing inch of him pushing aside her maidenhood like it was nothing at all. She barely felt the pain—pleasure was the name of the day as his cockmeat filled her gentle teen pussy more and more.

His massive size dominated her entire mind—there was no other thought that could possibly penetrate her skull when he was penetrating her so thoroughly. Completely, that was the word. She was complete, now, with him inside of her. It was so wonderful, so perfect, that her very first man was actually her God, was her husband-to-be, was her supreme King.

And then. Then he started to fuck her properly. The enormous size pumping in and out of her tiny cunt. The meat so completely dominant, so large and veiny and diamond-hard. He ruled her, totally. She squeezed her tight snatch as best she could, hoping her soft warm wetness was so nice for him. There was nothing she wanted more than to possess the hottest, wettest, tightest place in the world for his wonderful cock.

She was so happy, serving underneath him. This was her true place, her true role. Princesses were made to serve Kings like him. He slapped her lightly on one cheek, and then the other, his hands moving downward to paw artlessly at her enormous breasts. She smiled at him, licking her lips.

Camille was on the ground next to them, fingering her pussy, cumming again and again from the sight of these two individuals fucking each other so hard. Her hair had become a tangled, sweaty mass around her pregnant body, wrapping around her tits and ass in a loving coil. Her dress was all disheveled, hanging loosely off of her swelling breasts.

“My Royal Slave,” grunted Master, as he fucked Mariana even harder.

“Your Royal Slave!”

He pumped harder and harder at Mariana's affirmation. His thumbs running over her big nipples.

“You are my PrincessFuckToy.”

“Your PrincessFuckToy!”

She pushed back into him as he pushed into her, hoping to massage his perfect cock even more as it delivered his holy message inside of her.

“My little Teen Queen.”

“Your Teen Queen!” She cried back, instantly.

“Mine to own.”

“Yours to own!”

Her eyes were getting maniacal now in their ferventness—unblinking, ever widening.

“You're mine to breed,” he grunted.

“Yours to breed!”

His load shot inside her with all the intensity of a thunderstorm. She felt like she was going to explode from the pure electricity of it, from the overload of hot, sexual bliss that he delivered.

It was like the feeling from the drink that Camille delivered multiplied by thousands. Millions. Her head hung loosely off the couch, staring and giggling softly at nothing at all. Her mind felt totally gone. She felt him exit her cunt, and whined helplessly, one gloved hand raising up to beg for more. He had made her feel so good.

She turned to look at her Master's perfect body.

Oh god, he was still hard! Even after filling her full of his fuckdaddy superstrong breeding cum, he was still sooo hard. His cock was slick and wet with her juices still, with his juices. She licked her lips.

He sat down on the couch, at the other end from her.

“Camille,” he called out. “Attend me.”

Mariana put a dainty hand to her mouth, taken aback. She sat up on the couch, her heart pounding fast. Some of the fog clearing away.

“My darling Master,” she gasped, “Am I not allowed to clean your cock? Have I been . . . demoted?”

He smiled, clearly enjoying her shock at possible rejection..

“Of course not, my dearest. Come,” he said, guiding Mariana's hand. “Join Camille. Join your sister-in-servitude.”

“Yesss,” Camille purred, staring happily into Mariana's green gaze. “Join me, love, please!”

Mariana could not resist her Master's command. She did not know if she had the fortitude to resist anything Camille said now, either. She was sooooo stunning. A slave. Just like her.

They both began stroking and kissing Master's cock, happily obeying.

“I deserve lots of Slave Princesses, don't I, girls? And lots of Slave Queens, too. Lots and lots.”

“Lots and lots,” they echoed together, and then giggled at how they both said it at the same time, in the same adoring sing-songy voice.

“Good girls.”

They both swooned. Stroking him even harder. Mariana's hand on top, Camille's below. Their gloves shining and sparkling, getting covered over with streams of precum.

“Now, because I do, so unquestionably, deserve a few Queens, it only makes sense that you two would be the first of so many, since you're both so unbelievably gorgeous. Mariana has just the slightest bit of superiority, since she was a real Princess in the old world, but Camille . . . Camille, you were the one first responded so positively to my concoctions. Before you, I had many failures. But you are the symbol of my triumph. The symbol of how I deserve so much. So much more than only Mariana as my Queen.”

They each nodded. Smiling at each other knowingly.

“And once I have enough Queens...well, that means it will be time to promote the two of you. The idea of the Seven Divinities ought to be somewhat updated, I think. ”

Their hearts both caught in their throats. Promotion! They were so excited. Of course they knew they deserved it.

“Now, I want you two to tell each other how much you care for each other.” He stroked Mariana's hair with one hand, and then Camille's with the other. “How much you adore each other, and want so desperately to make each other happy. For me.”

“Yes, Master!” they cooed.

Mariana went first. “Camille, I think you're incredible.” Her voice sugaring each word. “I love the way your cheekbones are so proud and amazing, how your jawline is so utterly smooth and perfect, your glorious face, your simply ravishing body, your sense of style, your hair...you are the complete package, and then some. You are just...” she moaned, watching Camille get turned on by the talk, watching her glorious brown eyes brim with need for more praise from her new sister-slave. “...just amazing. I love you, Camille. I adore you...and I hope you adore me.”

Camille nodded, bringing her face closer to Victor's cock. The two of their faces so close to the pulsing, throbbing meat, as they stared desperately into each other's eyes, looking for more angles of devotion.

“I...I chose this dress for you, Mariana.” She flattened out the green sheer fabric that was barely still on her body. “Because I know it's your favorite color, because it's just like your eyes. I wanted you to know that all the things that are your favorites are my favorite too. And I want you to know I think you're so fucking precious and gorgeous and amazing and I just so utterly, completely adore you so fucking much and—”

Mariana cut her off with a sizzingly perfect kiss, melding their wet, thick lips together with ferocious passion. Their mouths, so close to Master's cock, quickly latched onto it, making out with each other as they ran their lips up and down his magnificent meat. They each adored his massive length, their perfect lips overrunning.

Mariana loved her fellow slave Camille, loved how completely in love they both were with Victor, loved how they both worshipped him with everything they had. It was so utterly perfect.

Their tongues molded down on Victor's cock, adoring it, loving it, loving him, loving each other. There was enough of it for Mariana to suck and deepthroat the head while Camille went on to suckle on his shaft, and vice versa.

Master's body tensed up. They each moaned in their kisses, knowing he would gift them with his cum so soon.

And, just when it seemed like he wouldn't, when it seemed like they couldn't live any longer without one more second of his seed, he came. The hot, thick, brilliant white strands sprayed deep into Mariana's throat, Master shoving her down first on his orgasming member. Then he pulled her off and shoved the meat deep into Camille's perfect, waiting mouth. The slaves moaned and shook with orgasm, their tits all mashed together, their legs intertwined with their Master's, his cum soaking the mass of their perfect, silky soft strands.

They swallowed it down eagerly, loving the warm, perfect feeling of it oozing into their bodies, of each perfectly crafted atom decorating their utterly beautiful beings. They giggled and laughed richly, almost crying in joy.

"Thank you, Master," they cooed together. "Thank you, King Victor."

Mariana loved the feel of his warm goo all over her, the blanket of wet hotness it provided.

Inside her belly, Mariana could already feel her Master's seed going to work, filling her up with life. Her belly swelling just slightly, her tits growing. His power grew within her, just as it grew in the realm. For as Mariana went, so went the kingdom of Elysia.