Fallen Princess, Risen Queen

Author’s Note:

This is a story about corruption. Corruption stories tend to theme around non-consensual sex, or reluctant consent. This story has lots of both. It also has a lot of different kinds of sex, including with non-humans. There’s going to be more as the chapters go on. Also, stylistically, the sex scenes in this are pornographic, just brimming with naughty words.

This is just the first of many chapters.

I have to give the hugest shoutout possible to JackBellend41, who edited this like a champion. Tremendous thanks man!

 

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Adventure Awash in Madness

 

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The princess knew something bad had happened, and that being called to court was going to change things for her — but she had no idea that it would lead to her entire reality being rewritten. Princess Antariel, daughter of Queen Anadariel and King Tiertalan, had been raised in a life of comfort, without want. She often dressed in the silkiest finery and would refuse to wear anything that didn’t accentuate her tall, slim figure or match her bright blue eyes. Her red hair was kept plaited, with two long braids falling down her back.

However, great expectations and responsibilities had been placed upon her shoulders which she had been training for her whole life. Not only was she the only child of the Queen and King, they were unable to conceive any more after her, but she was also expected to be the chief diplomat of the elven Kingdom of Melamandor. Melamandor was the largest of the kingdoms on the island continent of Eltanor with the most powerful military.

The princess had heard a rumor that burned through the court like a wildfire. A Profane Tower had been spotted in the north of Eltanor. It technically wasn’t in Melam lands, but they would be expected to lead the attack regardless.

As Antariel entered the court, her stomach flopped inside of her. She couldn’t imagine why they’d want her — one hardly treated with the forces of the Profane gods. They existed only to despoil and destroy everything that the elves and the forces of the just stood for.

“My –” she started to say ‘Lord’ but realized that her father was absent. It was only the Queen, the woman who had birthed her, who was sitting on a throne. Courtiers were scurrying around, and the Queen absently waved them off. “My Queen. I am summoned,” Antariel said formally, as she was taught.

The Queen had always been hard on Antariel. She claimed it was for her own good, but sometimes the princess wondered if the Queen was simply unhappy with her own station and took it out on the princess. Antariel had noticed, as she entered her fourth decade, that the Queen and King seemed deeply unhappy. They both barely treated her as an adult, given they had both left their first millennium behind them. But the Queen in particular seemed like she wanted more to say in state matters, and the King seemed uninterested in what the Queen wanted.

“My daughter,” the Queen looked at the empty throne next to her, and back to the princess. “I fear for what I must ask of you. As I have a most… demanding task.”

The princess had never heard the Queen speak like this before. Her blood ran cold as she imagined she must be in more trouble than she thought.

The Queen sighed deeply and kept her spine perfectly straight. Her own dress was white with green accents and a high collar. The crown atop her head as always, shone brightly with white gold, perfectly straight and seemingly untouched by the world.

“I am… at your service, my Queen,” Antariel gave a small bow.

The Queen sighed again and shook her head. “No need for such formality today,” she said, closing her eyes briefly and added, “I must send you to the Profane Tower, to deal with the lord there.”

Antariel blinked in confusion and stood straight up. “Deal with? Why — how?”

The Queen closed her eyes again, before opening them and looking back to her daughter. “I’m afraid I don’t exactly know. Your purpose is to convince the lord of the Profane Tower to enter into negotiations with us.” She paused then added, “With our chief diplomat,” she motioned toward an elf noble in another part of the Court. Antariel recognized the noble — Varandur. Varandur spent a lot of time negotiating with other elves and directed most of the diplomacy for the kingdom. Technically, his station was beneath hers, but she would probably be deferring to him in a negotiation.

“However, Profane Lords only treat with those in power,” the Queen spoke each word carefully. “Thus, we send you to act as our authority.”

Antariel stared at the Queen on the throne and pressed her lips together. She looked at Varandur then back to the Queen. “And to what end? What is the purpose of these negotiations?”

The Queen looked askance and suddenly declared, “Leave us!” to the room at large. Every elf in the room turned to the Queen, bowed, and began leaving. “Varandur,” the Queen said as the elf noble bowed to leave, “You stay as well.” He nodded and stood.

After the room was emptied, the guards turned and left to guard the outside of the closed doors.

“Approach,” the Queen commanded, before sighing deeply. “Your father regrets he could not be here,” she said quietly, as Antariel and Varandur both walked up to her throne. “However, he is mustering our forces in order to send an army to the Profane Tower.” She swallowed and stared directly at Antariel. “We are not prepared, my daughter.”

Antariel blinked in confusion. “What do you mean, we have –”

The Queen shook her head. “Our forces have not yet returned from battle in the east.” She paused a second, “And that battle did not go as well as we would’ve liked.”

“But we were victorious,” Antariel said, looking over at Varandur.

“There are many kinds of victory, my dear daughter,” the Queen said and looked down. “I’m afraid this was one of the lesser kinds.” She paused briefly, then continued, “As such, you are being sent in the hopes that the Profane Lord will… not immediately attack.”

Antariel’s eyes went wide as she understood the meaning, and her breath was stolen from her. She was a distraction.

“My Queen,” Varandur spoke up, “Even if he takes my life for the insult, surely if I went alone, it would provide enough –”

The Queen held up a hand, and Varandur went silent. She took a long moment and finally said, “We disagree.”

“You disagree?” Antariel asked, astonished, and anger began flushing her cheeks. “You are sending me to my doom, and all you can say is you disagree?” She didn’t get along with her mother, but even she couldn’t possibly be this heartless.

The Queen looked to her right, unwilling to look at her daughter’s face. “This has been discussed, and the decision already made. You are to travel with a cadre of our most elite guards to the Profane Tower and entreat the lord there to enter negotiations.”

“Yes, my Queen,” Varandur said as he gave a deep bow.

Antariel stared at the Queen, pursing her lips for a moment and shook her head. She turned and left the Court of the Melam behind.

 

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Antariel was grateful for the company that had come with her, at least. Varandur and her were escorted by twenty valiant knights, all of whom seemed as though they could single-handedly fell a dragon. They each carried large swords and were covered in plate mail.

Varandur was dressed as a noble might be, though he had made some concessions to the possibility of battle, wearing light chainmail.

Antariel didn’t bother. She was going to be murdered the moment she stepped into this tower, and nothing was going to stop that. She wasn’t going to give the Queen the hope that she might win in a battle. Her mother would just have to live with the fact that she had sent her daughter, defenseless, to her death.

Petty, perhaps, but it was her life, and this was how she was going to see its end.

The trip itself wasn’t terribly long — the wagon they were in raced along the well-maintained road of the Eltanori lowlands. Soon, they would pass through the Gate of the Chalkidry, which was the northernmost fortress near where the Profane Tower had apparently appeared.

The force of the Profane moved in ways that defied logic or reason, much in the way their horrible gods preferred. Suddenly a Tower would appear. Monsters would pour out, and kill and raze and destroy everything around them, and then the Tower, and all the monsters, would vanish.

There’s even a story of an elven scout that, in spotting a Tower, tried to leave the area and report back. He thought that the Profane lord within had hexed him, because no matter how far he ran, when he woke up in the morning, the Tower was no more than a thousand paces from him.

The scout panicked, redoubling his efforts, until he suddenly came upon a town, and turned to discover the Tower a thousand paces behind him. It was then he realized he wasn’t turning in circles: The Tower was following him.

That was the kind of madness Antariel had to look forward to, shortly before her no doubt horrible end.

Though, she noted that of the stories of the Profane Towers and their movement — none had come to Eltanor in thousands of years, not since the last kingdom of a united Eltanor was shattered. Now the elf homeland wasn’t even united, but it was supposed to have been warded against such a transgression.

The Gate of the Chalkidry had more hustle and bustle than usual. Defensive preparations were being set up; food was being shipped in to fill their stocks, weapons were being smithed, armor crafted, and the large lions of Krathis were being fitted with harnesses. But there wasn’t even time to stay in the fortress for the night. They pressed on, passing through, and headed further north.

Along the north coast of Eltanor was a peninsula, just a small little spit of land, which had a large lighthouse on it to aid in coastal travel.

“How do you think the Profane Tower breached the wards?” Varandur asked Antariel as they sat in the back of the wagon.

She looked out the window as a fog built around them. “I don’t know if it did, exactly.” Antariel spent a lot of time studying, even studying the arcane. The Queen and King had hoped that she might become proficient, but she never did. She was always better at reading about it than doing it. “The land the lighthouse is on was raised out of the sea after the wards were created. They didn’t wish to cut down any trees, but still wanted it to be visible.”

It was possible the Profane Tower was stuck — but that wouldn’t stop the hordes from escaping from it, and simply marching to the Gate of Chalkidry.

However, as they approached, the fog enveloping them thickened beyond anything Antariel had ever seen. “How could anyone have spotted a tower, Profane or otherwise, in all this?” Antariel asked Varandur, looking out the window from inside the wagon.

“One has difficulty imagining,” Varandur said, furrowing his brow. “I can hardly see the trees at the edge of the road.” He squinted. “My word, I think I actually can’t see the trees at the edge of the road.”

Antariel suddenly opened the door.

“My princess!” Varandur cried, reaching toward her.

Antariel ignored him, standing up, and trying to lean out of the wagon to see ahead of them. She yelled at the driver, “Can you see where we’re headed?” she cried out loudly.

The driver whipped the horses, causing the wagon to shake and jumble. Antariel suddenly felt hands on her arm, yanking her hard back inside as the wagon hit a rock, causing both her and Varandur to tumble inside of it.

He scrambled over to the door, shutting it. “I apologize my princess, but I –”

“The driver didn’t answer!” Antariel shouted, as she straightened herself back up, and tried to sit on the chair.

“I’m sure he is merely focused on his task,” Varandur said, looking out the window.

“I couldn’t see the lighthouse,” Antariel said, breathing heavily.

“I… I’m sure he’s merely focused on his task,” Varandur said, staring at the floor.

“V…Varandur?” Antariel asked, her brow knit together in confusion. Did he hit his head?

Varandur looked up at her and smiled, “Oh, yes, I agree.” He looked out the window. “I’m sure he’s just… merely focused on his task.”

Antariel swallowed. A horse screamed and the entire world spun around.

 

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Antariel sat up, trying to get her bearings in the upside-down wagon. From the pounding in her head, she was sure she must’ve been bloodied in the wagon crash. She couldn’t worry about that now. She scrambled over to the door and twisted the handle. It didn’t move, no doubt pinched in due to the twisting of the wagon wreckage.

She turned to Varandur and gently shook his shoulder. He seemed bruised, but otherwise undamaged. “Varandur!” she yelled urgently, shaking him.

“Princess!” he called out, before opening his eyes and sitting up. He put his hand to head and groaned.

Antariel became aware of the sounds outside the wagon — the clash of metal — a man’s scream. The wagon door suddenly exploded outward, and an armored body held a gauntlet down. “My lady!” came the call, “Can you free yourself?”

“Yes!” Antariel yelled and reached out to take the gauntlet. She looked back, as she was pulled, “Varandur!” she yelled, and the elf noble crawled out after her.

They stood up and were immediately confronted by the terror of battle, as the armored elf next to her was suddenly struck in the chest by the sword by a hideous, snarling, monster. The monster had no defined shape, being mutated beyond recognition. It didn’t have a sword — its arm was a sword.

Antariel screamed and ran in a panic away from the wagon. Another of her armored companions headed over to her immediately, hearing her scream. She stumbled to a stop as a huge, winged creature with a lion’s body flew down from the sky and clamped its claws on the armored elf. He swung his sword at the beast with a yell, but it merely lifted him up and threw him aside.

Antariel fell backward, landing in the dirt, and saw something she understood even less than the battle. A dozen paces from her there was a woman dressed in garb that barely covered any skin. A long skirt draped in front of her accentuated her hips, and small straps of cloth held up her massive breasts. She wore a black mask that covered her face, and motioned to some beastly looking warriors, who seemed to be part man and part animal. She had heard of these bestial creatures but never seen one. The warriors had what appeared to be a male prisoner, human or elf, naked except for a hood over his head. The prisoner ran and while they appeared to give chase.

The woman walked toward Antariel, her hourglass-shaped body swaying. Something about her raw sexuality seemed so familiar, but Antariel was certain she’d never met anyone like this.

Varandur broke her stupor, lifting her by an arm, “My Princess, come!” he shouted. Antariel scrambled off the ground, covered in dirt, and ran after the elf noble. She heard something behind her, the woman perhaps, but she couldn’t make it out.

The sounds of battle faded behind them, but they ran until they heard nothing but their own footsteps. Finally, Antariel collapsed to the ground, weeping.

Varandur stopped and walked back to her, dropping to his knees. “I’m sorry my Princess,” he said, tears of his own flowing down his cheeks. “I should’ve… I can’t… ”

Antariel shook her head, “It wasn’t your fault. We shouldn’t be here.”

“I know,” Varandur said, and shook his shoulders. It felt like the temperature had dropped a lot — Antariel was freezing. “So cold,” Varandur looked around then gasped.

Antariel looked up to see what fresh horror awaited them. She wished she hadn’t.

They were mere paces from the front door of a massive black tower that erupted from the ground and pierced the gray sky. The door itself was a massive iron thing, with skulls prominently displayed within 9 pointed stars. Everything about it hurt to look at.

Varandur shook his head and wiped the tears from his eyes. “So many losses, they must count for something,” he said and stood. He looked down at her and shook his head, “And besides, we’ll freeze to death out here.”

Antariel was less certain but wiped the tears from her eyes. She stood up next to him and looked down at herself. She was covered in filth, her dress torn, shredded below the knees, and any makeup she had long since smeared off. She was also certain she didn’t smell her best.

She slowed her breathing, trying not to panic, as they headed toward the large black iron door.

Varandur curled his hand into a fist to pound, but as he raised his fist, the door creaked open. The sound of metal grating against metal pierced the air. They stared at the opening and saw nothing. The doors appeared to open into nothingness, as though the room beyond was so dark that no light was contained within.

Varandur took Antariel’s hand. She gave it a squeeze as they crossed the threshold.

And found themselves in a stone hallway.

Antariel looked around in surprise, and then behind them, where there was a large, closed, iron metal door. She looked forward and Varandur looked around.

“Well, not… what I expected,” he smiled at her, letting go of her hand. “But not so bad, so far.” He took a moment to try to straighten himself up, running a hand through his hair, and straightening his fine, albeit dirty, garb.

They proceeded down the hallway and could hear the sounds of what must have been a large gathering. The loud buzz of a murmuring crowd filled the air, punctuated by bestial bellows and screeching.

They came to a large opening, around the corner of which was a sight neither of them were prepared for. It appeared to be a court, like many others, but this large hall was filled with monstrous denizens that filled the elf princess with a numbing fear. Mutants, goat-men, armored brutes, and there were even a couple minotaurs.

The hall was large, with windows on one side that let in light from the outside. But the light let in didn’t look like the light she remembered. It seemed unnaturally bright.

Antariel could see Varandur steel himself, his entire persona changing as though he were putting on a cloak. “May I present!” He proclaimed, “The Princess Antariel, first daughter of Queen Anadariel and King Tiertalan of the Kingdom of Melamandor!”

The entire hall fell silent. Soon figures were pushing each other out of the way, forming a path between the entrance to the halland the huge black throne at the center of it. The back of the throne rose a dozen feet into the air. The chair itself was huge, much bigger than its occupant.

Varandur walked forward with a confidence that Antariel did not share. She looked nervously at the various figures on either side, some of whom were openly leering at her. Oh, how she wished that they had spent more time watching, rather than immediately announcing themselves.

As they approached the throne, she realized that the person on it appeared to be a human man. His ears did seem slightly elfin but his body, the most beautiful male body she’d ever seen, was bigger than any elf. It was also completely hairless and perfectly sculpted, every muscle on display and glistening.

The only thing he wore was a shimmering, translucent robe that hung open, revealing his naked body beneath it. Both Andariel and Varandur stared at his thick cock, which Andariel thought was slightly longer than her forearm. It was the most massive example of its kind she’d ever seen. She wouldn’t have imagined how quickly it would be supplanted.

A few steps shook the very ground, sending resounding booms through the hall, as a massive minotaur walked up to the back of the throne, before moving around it.

As it came around the small dais the throne sat upon, Antariel realized it was perhaps twenty feet tall, completely naked, with a massive cock hanging between his legs. His skin looked to be the thickest, most durable hide she’d ever seen, covered in strange tattoos. The tattoos didn’t exactly glow, appearing to hover off the skin. The creature lowered his head, showing off his two gargantuan horns. Both looked plated in metal, and Antariel thought they could probably tear through a knight’s armor.

The minotaur snorted, a sound which Antariel could feel irritation in.

“Well,” the man-elf figure said from his throne, where he lounged on the oversized chair. “That was rude,” he told Varandur specifically.

“My… my lord,” Varandur started. “I was announcing–”

“You see,” the figure cut in, “You interrupted my guest here,” he motioned to the massive minotaur. “Who was, as you can imagine, rather enjoying himself in the back of the hall.”

“My lord,” Varandur tried again, “I present –”

“You’re still being rude,” the figure sighed, idly scratching one of his pecs, and then motioned toward Varandur. “You’re not being honest.”

“My lord?” Varandur glanced over at Antariel, who finally tore her gaze from the large creature to look back at the enthroned figure.

“You see, only when someone has something to hide do they come to my court dressed like,” he motioned to Varandur, “this.”

“I see, my lord. My people –” Varandur started, when the figure cut him off.

“So, remove the offending clothing,” the figure stared at him with a hard expression. Antariel realized his eyes were so dark as to appear like he had only pupils and whites, without iris. His body’s beauty was matched by a lethality that she could sense immediately.

“My lord, I am unaccustomed,” Varandur again tried, but the figure was having none of it.

“Oh, they didn’t teach you about adjusting to foreign customs as a diplomat? I don’t suppose the Kingdom of… ” He sighed and gestured toward Varandur.

“Melamandor, my –”

“Is a particularly provincial kingdom, is it?”

“No, my lord!” Varandur protested. “We have outposts –”

“Then if you want to even address me,” the figure started in a hard tone, but he didn’t finish his sentence. He pointed at the ground.

Varandur swallowed as he removed his clothing. Antariel expected the hall to begin jeering or maybe clapping, but instead they remained completely silent. Apparently, their liege was speaking, and they were not going to interrupt. Somehow, it seemed worse than jeers. Varandur looked back at the lord and swallowed. Antariel wasn’t looking that close, and even she could tell that he was staring at the lord’s cock.

The figure suddenly stood on the dais, his glowing blond hair flowing down to his shoulders. “I am Kareltonis,” he boomed, his voice filling the hall so loudly that Antariel’s ears hurt from it. She clapped her hands to her ears. Varandur fell to his knees, completely naked, before putting his hands on his head. “The Champion of Flesh, Sovereign of the Abattoir of Lascivious Meats, and Master of the Shrieking Tower of Needful Ache.”

Varandur lowered his hands and started to stand. Kareltonis pointed at him. “Crawl to me, if you wish to entreat me!”

Antariel looked from Varandur to Kareltonis and realized Kareltonis’ cock was erect. Varandur lowered his head and crawled toward the throne. Antariel looked around and realized that while a few had armor, most of the creatures in the court were naked. Even the ones with armor had it only on their chests. There was a goat-man not far from her, with a body of a man but with beastly legs and head, and an erection that was very much man-like. He was lazily rubbing himself. She wrinkled her nose in disgust, but her eyes betrayed her, noticing how large and firm the slick cock looked.

She looked back over to Varandur and Kareltonis, and Varandur had crawled up the dais, stopping when he reached the lord’s feet. Kareltonis lowered a hand. “Look up,” he commanded. Varandur slowly raised his head, his hands still on the ground. Kareltonis took his chin and pulled up and Varandur rose to his knees.

Kareltonis moved Varandur’s chin to his cock and Varandur opened his mouth, sucking in the head of the large cock. Kareltonis smiled and allowed him to suck for a few moments.

“Now,” Kareltonis pushed Varandur’s head back hard enough to send the elf tumbling back. Antariel realized to her shock that Varandur’s own, much smaller, erection was very prominently sticking out from his body. She then realized to her own horror that she was wet from the display. “Tell me, why did that thrill you so?”

Varandur got up on his knees, his hands futilely trying to cover his own erection. “It didn’t, my lord, I was only –”

“HONESTY!” Kareltonis bellowed, and Varandur collapsed to the ground, clamping his hands over his head. Antariel’s own ears hurt, but she was frozen in fear, unable to protect herself. “That’s all I ask,” Kareltonis continued quietly. He stepped down from the dais and walked over to Varandur, who tried to rise. Kareltonis immediately gripped his shoulder, keeping him on his knees.

Varandur tried to look away, but eventually turned his gaze back to the large cock in front of his face. Varandur’s own cock began leaking precum, which dripped in strands to the ground.

“You are,” Kareltonis whispered in a voice so soft yet clear to Antariel from her place several paces away. “A cockslut.”

Varandur opened his mouth slightly, breathing out slowly.

“Say it,” Kareltonis commanded.

Varandur closed his mouth and looked up at him, “N…no, my… my lord.” Tears began falling down his cheeks.

Kareltonis sighed and snapped his fingers, as he turned and walked back to the throne.

A large goat-headed man on two equally large cloven hooves, with furred legs and bare chest, walked over to Varandur. The goatman was already stroking his sizable erection as he walked up behind the nobleman. Antariel swallowed, and as awareness began to creep back to her, she realized she could smell the musk of the room and began to hear some groans. The hall was filled with the bestial arousal of these creatures.

Shame washed over her, as she began to realize that her pussy had never been this wet her whole life. She’d slept with a few noblemen, mostly to piss off her mother, but they’d never given her feelings like this.

“My lord, I meant no offense,” Varandur glanced over his shoulder as the beastly erection began rubbing against his ass. The goatman’s large hand moved to the elf’s lithe shoulder and pushed him down on all fours. Varandur didn’t seem to resist at all, falling on his hands and knees, and arching his back slightly. “Please!”

“We’re simple folk here,” Kareltonis said with a bored expression on his face. “And as such, I think you’ll find we value honesty to a great degree.” He gestured to the goatman.

Antariel tried to press her thighs together, as if it would help, and her hand rubbed her stomach. When she saw the large cock slowly disappear into Varandur’s ass, she inhaled deeply. Arousal flooded her. Her shame tried to drown it out, but the feelings persisted. Varandur cried out, and then moaned deeply, panting heavily. Antariel realized that the goatman wasn’t moving, in a display of discipline she wasn’t expecting.

Varandur grunted and shook his head. He tried to pull forward, but the goatman held his shoulder firm.

“Yes?” Kareltonis asked with a tight smile. “Something to say?”

Varandur murmured something that Antariel didn’t hear.

“Louder!” Kareltonis bellowed.

“Please fuck me!” Varandur yelled, before he hung his head in shame. “I can’t… I can’t stand it…”

Shock shot through Antariel, followed by another wave of arousal. She couldn’t believe what she’d heard. Varandur wanted the beastly creature to fuck him, to have its way with him. She imagined that creature’s thick cock pushing deep inside of her but tried to push the image out of her head. The image of Varandur moaning wasn’t going anywhere.

Kareltonis gave the thought consideration, then turned his attention to Antariel who looked at him wide eyed. Fear gripped her, rooting her to her spot. The large lord raised a single finger, and curled it toward him, gesturing her closer.

Antariel took shaky steps toward the throne, as she heard Varandur moaning and begging, with a goatman standing resolutely still behind him. She reached the dais, and stopped, looking over at the elf noble begging on his hands and knees. She could feel wetness oozing down her legs.

“Closer,” Kareltonis said quietly, and Antariel snapped her gaze back to him. She took a few more slow steps, until she was next to the throne. “You are a princess,” he said simply.

Antariel hung her head, closing her eyes, shame washing over her. “Ye…yes, my… err… Lord… Kareltonis.” Stupid, she wasn’t supposed to call enemy lords ‘my lord’ was she? Or was she. Her mind was not helping her much in this circumstance. She suddenly wished she’d studied more protocol than stealing time for arcane nonsense.

“Look at me,” he commanded, though in a normal tone of voice.

Antariel raised her eyes, gazing at the body of this lord that was once again leaning back in a relaxed posture in the large throne.

“Now,” he sighed lightly and motioned to Varandur, who continued his quiet begging. “Should my chamkraz fuck the cockslut?”

Antariel breathed out shakily and looked back over at Varandur, swallowing. Varandur cried out with another groan, squirming, and trying to move forward or back. The chamkraz behind him wasn’t allowing him to move at all though. Antariel thought she knew what Kareltonis wanted, and she didn’t want to end up like Varandur, and so she nodded.

“Hrm, a subtle head movement,” Kareltonis said with an amused tone. Antariel looked back at him, squirming still, and bit her lip. “Well, I don’t want there to be any confusion.”

Antariel nodded again and then said, “Yes, my lord.”

“Yes, what, princess?” the lord smiled.

Antariel closed her eyes, and breathed out, “Yes, the chamkraz should fuck Va-” she hesitated, then changed her words, “fuck…. Fuck the cockslut, my lord.”

Kareltonis gestured to the chamkraz and Varandur immediately moaned. She looked over to see the goatman pumping his hips as hard as he could into the elf, who had his eyes closed and his head thrown back. The elf tried to reach his own cock, but the chamkraz grabbed both of his arms by the elbows, holding them back as he pumped.

Varandur climaxed suddenly, spraying cum all over the floor in front of him. The chamkraz didn’t even slow down.

Antariel’s eyes went wide, and she inhaled a slow shaky breath as arousal shot through her. She was now very glad for the dirt on her dress, because she was certain she’d soaked clean through her panties. She bit her lip again, and kept her hands pressed to her side, to prevent them from going anywhere.

“I see that excites you,” Kareltonis watched her closely.

Antariel stiffened slightly and looked at him to deny it, even opening her mouth to say the words. Some part of her brain thankfully stopped her, as she knew that dishonesty was going to get her punished. “Y…yes, Lord Kareltonis,” she said quietly.

“Hrm,” he looked her up and down. “Call me Kariz.”

Antariel swallowed, and nodded, “Yes, lord Kar–”

“No. Just Kariz.”

She nodded, “Kariz.”

Kariz suddenly stood, making her step back. She realized that even at her rather tall height of just under six feet, Kariz towered a foot over her. He walked down the dais to Varandur. The chamkraz roared and slammed his hips into Varandur’s ass, pouring his corrupt seed into the elf. Varandur climaxed again, shooting even more cum onto the floor, before falling to his face, panting.

Kariz crouched down, grabbing Varandur’s hair and lifting his head, holding his face in front of his cock. “Now,” he said with a smile. “Ready to admit the truth?”

Varandur swallowed and his eyes fluttered open. He shook his head numbly.

Kariz blinked and furrowed his brow.

Antariel couldn’t believe what she was seeing — she didn’t understand why the noble didn’t just give the lord what he wanted.

Kariz shrugged and let go of Varandur’s head as he stood up. He snapped his fingers. A purple-skinned person stepped out of the crowd as if they’d always been there. They were wearing only a purple cloth tied around their top, and hanging in front of their hips, hiding themselves such that to Antariel, they appeared completely androgynous. Their face appeared elfin, except for two large purple horns that their skull flowed up into.

Kariz bent down, whispering something to the person, who quickly directed a couple of the smaller goatmen to grab Varandur by his arms, and drag him away as the person followed. The chamkraz chuffed, pleased, and walked back into the crowd.

As Antariel watched Varandur dragged away, the looming presence of the monstrous minotaur behind her made itself known. She stiffened as he pressed his wet nose up against her hair and breathed hot air over the back of her neck.

“That will be an interesting project,” Kariz loudly declared, watching the elf noble go. He turned to Antariel. “Ah, yes. Princess?”

“Yes l… Kariz,” Antariel said quietly, glancing back at the minotaur.

“Follow,” he commanded, and walked into the crowd. The lord of the Profane Tower never hesitated a moment, as the crowd instantly parted for him. Antariel hurried to follow him. As she left the hall, she could hear the thunderous sound of hooves moving away from them, followed by loud wet noises.

 

---

 

The room they entered was dominated by a massive round bed, and everything was draped in lavish silk in a variety of purple hues. The part of Antariel’s brain that hadn’t just been scrambled by what happened in the court thought it was very well put together.

Kariz entered and looked around before snapping his fingers, a sound that bounced around the room. Two elfin persons ran out of the bathroom off to the right and fell to their knees before Kariz, prostrating themselves.

Antariel recognized their kind — they were nymphs. Nymphs were shorter than elves, typically, but just as long lived. These were dressed in simple cloth tunics, and plain cloth pants.

“This is Rana and Kana,” he pointed to the female and male respectively. “They’ve served me well over… ” he hesitated, thinking, then waved a hand dismissively, “the centuries, at any rate, and so I hope they will serve you as well.”

“…Sir?” she asked, her mind still trying to wrap itself around her being in this room.

“Well, a princess needs servants, doesn’t she? You’ll be staying awhile, so I thought it prudent.” He motioned to the rest of the room, “I hope you find your quarters to your liking.”

“Am I… a prisoner…?” she realized he meant for this massive room to be hers — she had assumed it was his.

Kariz tilted his head to the side, “Of course not. If you chose to walk out of the doors into the frozen wilderness, I’d hardly have cause to stop you,” he laughed. “I can’t imagine what wild fervor possessed you to make such a trek to my tower, but surely on the way in you saw how inhospitable it is outside.”

Antariel nodded and swallowed, “My lord err…Kariz,” she had trouble not using formal speech, “I would like to discuss my reasons with you.”

“And you shall. Though you must remember that before any such discussion, you must pay homage.”

Antariel glanced at his hands, and realized that he had no rings, no ensigns of his power. All he had was a massive cock that was still erect. She quickly lowered herself to her knees in front of it, breathing in deeply. His powerful, masculine scent filled her mind with lustful thoughts and images. She gently took the head of his cock into her mouth, closing her lips on it and sucking softly. A large drop of cum flowed onto her tongue, sending a thrill all the way down to her crotch.

Kariz’ cream tasted — no. His… his filth. His… foul seed tasted… as foul as it should. Not sweet and salty, and leaving her wanting more. Her body ignored her protesting mind, as she was instantly soaking again. Her arousal flowed from her in a way she wouldn’t have thought possible. It was almost as though she had wet herself.

The princess regained her senses and released his cock from her mouth, standing quickly. She looked up at him, and he was staring intently at her, with those coal black eyes of his.

“Did you enjoy that?”

Antariel wanted to lie so badly, wanted to deny that she felt anything, but she knew he would see through her. If she was going to deceive him at some point in the future, she had to make sure he believed she was always truthful.

“Yes,” she admitted, looking away from him.

“Then you will not be disappointed to learn that I was referring to tomorrow, when I hold court.”

Antariel swallowed in surprise, looking back at him with wide eyes. Of course, he would only hear official business during court. He was a lord, even if he was a lord of the Profane. She felt like such a fool, closing her eyes and lowering her head.

Kariz took her chin, and raised it up, causing her to open her eyes to look at him again. His gaze was so hypnotic, it was like she could fall into his eyes forever. “You’ll come to understand our ways, I’m sure of it,” he said quietly. “Things will be easier then,” he assured her with a smile.

Antariel nodded numbly, and he released her chin, still smiling, before turning and leaving the room. The doors seem to close themselves behind him.

Antariel collapsed to her knees and began sobbing. Everything had gone wrong; everyone was dead or… whatever had happened to Varandur. She had debased herself pointlessly for this lord, who was surely laughing at her.

“Now, now,” came a soothing voice next to her, “A princess must keep her composure, mustn’t she?”

Antariel looked over suddenly, gasping lightly in surprise, having forgotten about the two nymphs that were with her. The female nymph, Rana, was the one talking, heading over to her and giving her a hug. Antariel hugged her back quickly, just grateful for the friendly contact. Kana soon joined, also wrapping his arms around her other side.

Antariel let her emotion flow out of her, until she felt she’d cried her last tears — at least for the night. As Antariel sniffed, Rana leaned back and wiped the tears away. “How about we draw you a nice hot bath, and you can relax in it?”

Antariel breathed a shaky breath before cautiously admitting, “That does sound nice.”

“Of course it does,” Kana smiled, “Rana always has good ideas.”

Soon enough, they were calling from the bathroom, “It’s ready princess!”

Antariel entered the bathroom that was itself bigger than her old room at the palace and saw that it was decorated somewhat differently than the bedroom. Instead of silks, every surface was either wood or marble. The very large bath was inset into the floor, and made almost entirely of smooth marble, except for wooden seats. She briefly wondered how many people bathed at one time in this room. She noticed there was a path of rough, bumpy marble that went around the room. So even Profane lords dedicated to the destruction of all civilization still slipped and fell. The absurdity of the thought made her smile.

“Ahh, that’s a lovely smile,” Rana started helping Antariel out of her dress.

Antariel startled a bit, and then realized that it was of course necessary. “Thank you,” she said, as she dropped her dress to the floor, followed by her panties, and then was surprised to see Kana preparing some soaps. She quickly covered her breasts with one arm and her crotch with the other hand.

“K..Kana!” the princess called out in alarm.