Filth Princess by The Tome of Ebon: /~Tome_of_Ebon/ To send feedback, visit the website above. Aug 29, 2011 ====== This story contains descriptions of an adult nature. If you are a minor or person offended by such materials, you should not read further. This story does not necessarily reflect any people or practices in the real world, and should not be taken as reality. Codes: M+/f Mdom group ds nc reluc anal a2m anex scat enem bd va dh humil ====== "Rise and shine, princess." called a gruff male voice, rousing Miramelle from her troubled dreams. Rolling over, the girl let a cascade of wavy platinum tresses tumble over the edge of her bed, her wide emerald eyes blinking as the leggy girl stretched and yawned. One of the barbarians had come to get her from the chamber where she'd been imprisoned; she thought from overheard conversations that the swarthy, black-bearded man's name was Uldarl, but none of the barbarians shared their names with her, though they did share things several levels more intimate with much greater readiness. The platinum-blonde princess frowned slightly as she rose, knowing that resisting would only encourage the rough mountain men to hurt her; even the humiliation was better than being flogged or waterboarded while the barbarians howled with laughter and taunts. Expression obediently downcast as she put on the silver filigree crown that she was still allowed to wear, Miramelle thought back on her short past. She had been a real princess, not so very long ago. Now it was merely a title of ridicule for a fallen girl who, even if she was never formally titled such, was nothing but a slave, a princess of nothing but filth and debauch. No kingdom and no castle were left to her family; she was the last of her father's direct lineage and the way her life was going, she would never get a chance to continue that line, the golden chastity belt bound on her even when she slept attesting to that. Their kingdom had been a small city-state, but prosperous and peaceful; too peaceful, that had been their undoing. When the barbarian raiders stormed down from the mountains, the city's soft, complacent defenders stood no chance against the onslaught of hard, fearsome berserkers. The city and its castle had fallen, king and princes put to the sword on public display, and the beautiful blossoming princess taken for other forms of victory humiliation while Regniz, the barbarian clan-chief, sat his deerskin-clad ass upon the royal throne and proclamed his rule over the fallen city, backed by the heavy swords of his warriors. Perhaps it was just as well for Miramelle's mother that she had died birthing the princess, or the mountain men might have taken her as well, for even as a mother of two young princes she had been a woman that many men had unspoken desires for, and might still have been were she alive. Miramelle had been brought up to think that these mountain barbarians were a dirty, inferior race who could not compare to her own educated and enlightened people, but now they were her masters and victors over her kingdom. It made her doubt other things she'd been taught, too, weakening her foundations and making her all the more malleable to the rough men's depredations. The barbarians, for their part, considered the people they had defeated to be the inferior race, and didn't hesitate to let Miramelle know it with their taunts and jeers, but the fresh young princess had been a great prize to them, with her silky platinum hair and her large, bright emerald eyes, her young body in limbo between little girl and woman but still closer to the former. That she was the daughter of their fallen adversary only made using and abusing the pretty young thing all the more enjoyable; an echo of their conquest to be played over and over with the thrust of hardened cocks rather than of sharpened blades. Uldarl leered as he led the former princess out of the chamber. Her fine little crown of cunning silver filigree, with emeralds to match her eyes, perched neatly on her pale-tressed head as a testament to the height from which she had fallen, and her white corset, crudely adjusted into an underbust design and somewhat stained, remained about her midsection, nipping in any extra softness at her tummy, making her seem even more slender than the leggy girl would otherwise be. Though the alteration to her corset was shameful enough, the rest of her attire was even more insulting to her former regal status. Regniz had preferred his own people's antlered cap as his symbol of rule, and the old king's crown had been reforged into a bejeweled chastity belt that hid Miramelle's young, virgin cunt under a plate of burnished gold while leaving her sweet rump free for access, a smaller opening allowing her to piss and have her clit toyed with while the belt was locked in place. When the barbarian captain leading the invasion of the castle first claimed Miramelle's anal virginity--right in the former safety of the bedchamber that was now her gilded prison cell--the girl had barely been able to believe it. She was naive about sex, but that, that was where filth came out! Even thinking of the mildest specific word made her feel ashamed. It wasn't for a princess to say or even think such a word much less any of the cruder terms which she certainly did not know until learning them from the barbarians. The very thought of the man's thick, hard shaft pumping and squelching in the shameful dirtiness inside her rear had at the time made her nauseous and brought a hot blush to her sweet young cheeks. To the sheltered, pampered princess it was simply outrageous. Why would a man want to stick that ugly thing between his legs into any part of her--much less her royal derriere! No matter what objections she considered, however, that was where the barbarian men entered her again and again after her capture, taking great enjoyment in defiling the tight little blonde, casting their sperm into her slim young body where they could be assured no bastards of her weak race would issue from their pleasure. Her constant companion, the golden chastity belt, proclaimed to every barbarian in the castle what she was for and how she was to be properly used. Of course, part of her felt a desire for the men's bodies, even the parts she considered their "ugly things", or "cocks" if she dared think crude barbarian words, and this only made her even more ashamed. She'd only just begun to feel lust for men when the barbarians had come and made her theirs; rape of her mouth and anus, often in long, gruelling group sessions, was the only sex she knew, and she knew it frequently: daily or more. Only the time when she was stricken with fever had the barbarians relented for a little while and allowed their medicine man to treat her in relative peace and quiet. Uldarl carried Miramelle up to the preparation room, where the hapless girl was sponged clean, hogtied and placed on a large serving platter as if she were a roast pig all ready for a feast. Two strong men lifted the platter by its large handles and the former princess was carried to the table at the center of the next room where several of the barbarian warriors waited around the great wooden dining table, cheering when their favorite plaything was served to them. Already their pants were off, their shafts in varying states of erection from fully hard to merely wakeful, depending on how vivid their anticipation of the coming events was. She recognized many of the faces, but she knew little about the men beyond how they fucked her; she was a toy for them to get their release and fill her with seed spent for pleasure, nothing more than that. Regniz was absent: preferring to conserve his lusts for trying to sire successors with his several barbarian women, he had magnanimously given Miramelle to his loyal huscarls for their entertainment, although the chastity belt had been the chieftain's own idea, presented along with the girl. While Miramelle lay helplessly bound on the platter, the men reached out, and rough hands explored her, slapping her sweet buns, stroking her skin and her silky hair, poking her lips and peeking between her buttocks, even tauntingly rattling the chastity belt that kept her soft, tight cunt off-limits. Once they were done, she was untied and an oversized chamber pot was brought for her relief. In the early days, Miramelle had stalwartly refused to do such a thing in front of so many watching eyes, but they had not given her any peace to relieve herself privately, until the pressure inside tortured her and it became a choice between giving the men their show or messing herself. From that point on, it had become ever easier to perform this show for them, though it never ceased to cause a hot flush of embarassment to rise in her. With a sigh of resignation, the young blonde teen squatted over the pot, allowing herself to be seen rather than invite interference as she let herself relax as much as possible, preparing to relieve herself with a gentle push of her bowels. The girl blushed furiously as the brash rumble of escaping gas sounded from her dainty anus, drawing a few taunts from the men around her. She bit her lip lightly, pushing a little more firmly as her face showed shameful concentration, and the warriors watched with pleasure as her tiny asshole slowly flexed and opened before their eyes to let her waste fall in a long, smooth piece into the chamber pot, followed by the sigh of another, softer yet still humiliating puff of smelling gas. Coarse taunts and cheers rose from the audience as the utterly humiliated young teen huddled, hugging herself and waiting for the pot to be removed and a rag brought so she could wipe off her ass, now thoroughly dirty-feeling even without the taunts and jibes of her spectators. She tried, but failed, to avoid getting a brown smear on her delicate fingers when wiping off with the tiny rag they provided her with, leaving her with few options for cleaning it off: rubbing it off on her corset or licking her fingers clean, of which she chose the former rather than leave her fingers dirty. "Princess Shit-fingers!" guffawed one of the men with a tone of glee and lust that only brought Miramelle's shame several levels deeper. After Miramelle had added the new stain to the already somewhat dingy white garment, the men grabbed her, their large, hairy hands spreading the princess' creamy-toned buttocks. Before their eyes, the puckered ring of her oft-abused anus was fully revealed, the somewhat darker skin highlighting its location for any desiring cock that might wish to plunge inside. Several of the men leaned close, their coarse, bearded faces alight with lecherous grins as they took in the sight of the princess' tight, intimate, shameful hole, smug with the knowledge that they would soon enjoy the pleasures it had to offer. Fingers and even the occasional tongue teased her tight pucker, some of the barbarians touching her clit from time to time as well, the fingering too fleeting and crude to do more than frustrate the girl. "Mmmmm... let's see your ass, shit-princess." taunted one of the barbarians, his rough finger poking into her rectum with the aid of the gob of grease smeared on it. Miramelle bit her pale pink lip to keep from crying out, unspilled tears of shame as she anticipated what the man would do once he was done probing her anal passage with his thick finger. Sure enough, after rubbing her vulnerable, tender insides a bit, he pushed the dirtied fingertip into her mouth, and she obediently sucked it clean despite the foul taste of mingled sweat, grease and princess' shit. After that tease, the room grew silent with lecherous anticipation. The girl's ass had just been emptied, and the men were all eager to fill it back up with their hardened cocks, hastily casting lots until they had decided the hierarchy of who would get their turn when. Getting right up onto the sturdy table, the first of the men lubed up his cock with the specially prepared grease that their alchemist provided, making sure his shaft was coated until it gleamed before mounting the beautiful young teen, his cock aiming right into the delectable grip of Miramelle's anus, one hand on her ass while the other guided his cock. Pushing hard into her tight little asshole, the invader drew a sharp mewl from her as he penetrated her rectum with his thick shaft, stretching her open obscenely around his lusting flesh. The man heaved a sigh of pleasure once he'd penetrated Miramelle's unwashed rear passage to the hilt, his heavily laden balls coming to rest against the rear of the jeweled golden plate barring her cunt. Reaching around to squeeze her small breasts and tease her nipples roughly, he let out a sigh of pleasure, eyes lidded as he savored the feel of having the young teen's rectum enveloping his lustful cock. Soon, the princess began to feel a different sensation throb out through her rectum and especally her imprisoned cunt. Having her tight anus raped still hurt, but the cunning alchemist, however he came across such knowledge, had infused the grease they used for lubricant with an aphrodisiac, stoking Miramelle's arousal every time a cock introduced the stuff into her rectum to be absorbed. Blushing with shame as it began to take effect, Miramelle pushed back against the invading thrusts, whimpering, "P-p-please touch..." "Touch what?" grunted the barbarian as he pounded into her deliciously tight anus. "T-t-touch my, my, th-there. I mean, m-my clit! T-touch my clit!" Miramelle mewed miserably, wanting to feel pleasure at the same time that she dreaded such shameful, filthy sensations of being an anal slut for these rugged mountain men, of using vulgar words that they had taught her even though she knew they would feign incomprehension if she did not. The barbarian grunted, then began to grin, "Touch your little shit-princess clit, eh? As if a dirty little toy like you deserves any pleasure?" He laughed heartily as he insulted the slender girl, but still his large rough finger found the small opening in her chastity belt to rub the sensitive nub, the drug in the lube having heated up her sensitivity to pleasure there even as the man's hefty cock plunged balls-deep into her rectum with every thrust. Miramelle was blushing furiously. A man was sticking himself into her filthy hole again, just after she'd relieved herself. She hadn't even been able to clean properly with soap, only wipe off! Utter humiliation burned red on her cheeks at the thought. The stuff would be on him when he finished, and then she'd have to clean him with her mouth, taste the foul tastes from her own shameful hole. She had some idea now of how much pleasure the barbarians got from sticking themselves into her tight stink-hole, but she still wondered why they could not use her in some other way than that. They were able to enjoy her mouth, she knew, but it was rare for any of them to use her mouth from start to finish during these group sessions. Her cunt wasn't an option due to the chastity belt, and naive Miramelle, never having been fucked there, thought that the plate was just an exceedingly odd way of offering her some modesty or more likely a mockery thereof. Her thoughts were interrupted then; the man's rough hands toying with her clit had caused an unwilling wave of sensation to rise up in her, her eyes rolling back as she tried and failed to resist a shudder of pleasure influenced, in part, by the aphrodisiac lubricant, a mewl of tormented pleasure escaping the young teen's lips, much to the delight of all the warriors. The man atop her began pumping Miramelle's ass harder as he toyed with her, building up towards a delectable climax from fucking the princess' shameful unwashed ass. He moaned with pleasure, the sounds from him matched by more strained and unwilling sounds from the princess. Filth-princess--Shit-princess, they liked to call her, and here she was with a hard cock in her shit-hole, trying hard not to feel good from it while knowing she was making the man thrusting into her feel good whether she liked it or not... was it really so bad to feel good? Her shame didn't want to leave her, only intensifying when she let herself think with those shameful and un-princess-like barbarian terms. Still, the big, rough man was rubbing her clit just so at the moment, and a part of her wanted badly to give in to it. So what if she was a shit-princess, making a show of her daily bowel movements, always having men fuck her shit-hole and cum in her bowels, and suck them clean of her filth afterwards? It felt good, sometimes it did at least, and as a prisoner, Miramelle had precious few opportunities to feel good. The men felt good when they were inside her, why shouldn't she? Perhaps it was just the drugs in the lube talking, but Miramelle didn't even realize that the grease had been tampered with in that way. Why doubt what she felt? Relenting, Miramelle allowed herself to stop thinking and just feel for a time, her body rewarded with a small but noticeable orgasm that made her cunt and anus clamp with the little surge of pleasure, helping to milk the man in her ass as she let out a frail moan. She'd learned not to fight physically; that only got her hurt. Maybe she needed to stop fighting mentally, too. Her pleasure hovered at a warm high, not letting her cum again but not dropping off completely either, and she couldn't help but smile a bit when the man in her ass tossed his head back in a cry of ecstasy, thick semen blasting forth from his throbbing cock to coat the inner walls of her ass, his sperm destined to perish in vain as it sought to fertilize her, spent for his pleasure. Miramelle flushed anew with embarassment; she could feel his seed in her rectum, thick and warm and gooey as every tremble of her inner muscles made it slosh about obscenely inside her. The man rested in her for a few moments after dumping his fresh seed, then slowly pulled out to bring his shaft to Miramelle's mouth. She could smell her own shit mingled with the scent of his semen on the massive shaft as it bobbed before her lips, then the man's strong hand grabbed the back of her head, pushing her forward to force the filthy shaft between her lips. Miramelle knew that the man expected her to suck him clean of the film of filth coating his dirtied cock, and despite the bitter foulness of its flavor, she sucked and swallowed obediently until he was all clean, only the taste of freshly-sucked penis remaining. The first time of the day was the worst, she knew, feeling relief. The first cock would have scraped up much of the lingering filth waiting inside her so that those after would be coated with seed more than shit. The first man's finish, of course, was only the beginning as he retired to the pillows at the edges of the rooms to watch while the next barbarian came forward to thrust into the fallen princess' delightful little asshole. The girl's platinum blonde tresses shimmered with the toss of her head as she squealed, feeling him enter her roughly, her anus not quite recovered from the previous fuck so that it opened for his cock more easily, while still squeezing tight on him once he had entered. This one was rougher, holding her lovely hair like reins and pumping eagerly into her rectum with his thick, veiny cock. When she began to plead again that her clit be stroked, the man ignored her, grunting dismissively as he tended to his own pleasure, leaving the little princess quite frustrated indeed given the arousing effects of the lubrication the men were using. Biting her lip, Miramelle tried to adjust her angle relative to the man raping her anus, trying to get some amount of pleasure from the motions of his cock in her rectum, but without having her clit tickled, it was only tantalizingly frustrating. It was a relief when his cock finally heaved and gushed his rich seed within her bowels, and she sucked him clean almost gratefully, hoping the next barbarian would have more mercy on her poor lusting flesh, its cries for release taking their share of her consciousness despite the side of her that still was filled with terrible shame. After the first five men, there was a break as usual, a bejeweled chalice brought out and placed under Miramelle's trembling rump, two men holding her arms to lift her over it. With obscene sounds issuing from her anus and a furious blush on her cheeks, Miramelle allowed the first five sperm loads to gurgle and dribble out of her well-fucked anus and into the cup, the sticky, viscous liquid more difficult for her to expel than her daily shit, so that she was mainly getting rid of the excess rather than eliminating the semen inside her completely. Once her ass was less sperm-filled, the next batch of men could take their turns at shooting their own loads into the barren passage; all would have their pleasure before the princess' day was done. Tottering a bit from overstimulation, the little platinum-haired teen returned to all fours with some guidance from the men's hands, her emerald eyes lidded as she waited for the next penetration, moaning with a confusion of pain and desire when he entered her, the sensation of hard thrusting flesh in her rectum once more overtaking her senses. Finally, once the last of the day's gathering had spent into the captive princess, the little blonde was helped to sit up at the edge of the table, and the chalice was handed to her, the warriors leering as they watched Miramelle make a suppressed expression of nausea as she peered down at the brownish-yellow tinged semen in the cup. Grimacing in a way that made her pretty features oddly endearing in her disgust, the young princess raised the cup to her lips as she had been taught and hurriedly chugged down the shitstained cum that had been recovered from her ass, lowering the cup with a nauseated choke when she was finished. It was worse than cleaning off the men's cocks in Miramelle's estimation; at least in that case a secret part of her lusted for the feel of hardened penis in her mouth. Once her ordeal with the chalice was done, Miramelle was removed from the table and marched into the next room with the encouragement of a leash and collar pulled by strong barbarian hands. As she entered the chamber, her lip quivered with trepidation. It was the day for her to be given her weekly enema, and she trembled a bit as she watched the men wheel in the hose and pumping contraption with which they flooded her innards for this weekly cleansing. The little princess had no idea why they didn't do this before enjoying her anally; while she had puzzled out the physical pleasure that their penises received, her understanding of the enjoyment they got from humiliating her was dim at best. When she had dared question it, she was punished for speaking out of her place and her suggestions were ignored. She soon learned not to make such protests. Carefully, the men inserted the nozzle of the hose into Miramelle's abused anus, making her yelp as she felt the cold tip slip into the tight ring of muscle. As they began to pump the device, water medicated with a soothing herbal decoction began to move through the hose, flowing into her intestine to dislodge shit and congealing cum in the swirling flood. She could feel the fullness of it pressing out against her corset as it flowed into the intimate coils within her, and though she knew by now that she need not fear bursting, the sensation was still less than pleasant. Once the nozzle was removed, a plug was immediately pushed into her ass, the rough men tipping her this way and that to slosh the water around inside her before once more putting her down by a large basin and pulling the plug back out of her quivering anus. Relief spread across her delicate features as her anus opened to let out the flood, a rush of filthy water, tainted with her shit and the men's remaining sperm, pouring out into the basin as the barbarians cheered and taunted. Shame battled with relief on the princess' young face; it was a humiliating experience every time, but at least it made her feel clean inside, a precious feeling for a girl who so often felt appallingly dirty. The last of the water gurgled out of her ass, her bowels finally empty once more, and she had to restrain herself not to pant like a dog in relief. Her tight little anus flexed a few times, finally drawing shut in its normal position, a tight, puckered little rosette, now damp and clean. Finally, the debauched princess managed to catch her breath, moving away from the basin to slump on the floor in exhaustion after the hard use she'd been given. The men chuckled and a few leaned over to poke at her or grope her body as she made weak sounds of tired protest, then she was lifted and put unsteadily back on her feet. Another man led her back to her bedchamber--no longer quite a cozy bedroom, but not as harsh as a true cell--and gave the girl her morning meal before allowing her some much needed rest. She still had a serving girl to help tend to her, a pretty one that some of the barbarians had also taken enjoyment from, though not as brutally; the girl kept Miramelle's hair and clothes as neat as she could manage, though she wasn't allowed to keep the princess company outside of those times. Once she had eaten, Miramelle had a chance to rest, outside of the occasional barbarian guard who, on his way back from duty, might sneak a quick blowjob or assfuck from the chastity belted girl when passing by her door. By the next day, the princess' ass would have filled up with her shit once again, and she'd have to put on the show of relieving herself all over again, once again the filth-princess for her barbarian captors. She blushed a little, yet smiled secretively. A part of her was still mortified by the shame of it all, but also, growing stronger by the day, was that little part that filled the lonely hours by thinking long on the way she was used--and looking forward to it. ======