Filth Princess
by The Tome of Ebon: /~Tome_of_Ebon/
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Aug 29, 2011

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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

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"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. 

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