darkest_fate
machina erotica
- Joined
- Dec 17, 2009
- Location
- the INTERNET
Princess Hayden had seen better days. In fact, she couldn't recall quite feeling worse than she did at this particular moment. Barely had she been on her quest for a week now, and already she'd faced her first lost. Her brilliant, shining armor had been battered, nearly to the point of shattering. Her spear: Freya, weapon of the Valkyrie, lay point down several feet from where Hayden was heaped. Her shield had been battered so severely that it nearly stuck to her arm. Scratches marred Hayden's tanned skin, and a few pink spots showed where she'd already had to call upon the sacred powers to restore her health. The golden blonde hair, envy of the kingdom, hung lank and limp about her face. Even her beautiful complexion had been marred. Frustration and anger might look out from those sharp, light brown eyes.
Failed. The great Virgin Princess had set out, wanting to right wrong and, most importantly, end this disgusting display that her kingdom put on every five years. Women and men from all over would come and engage in what essentially amounted to giant orgies. Warriors, mages, monsters and thieves would gather and fight one another. The winner took the loser, often in public and often in a manner that was almost humiliating. Fight enough battles, and you were invited to a tourney of champions. All those who participated, let alone won, in such the tourney were known throughout the land, often lauded for their prowess. A woman who did well in the tourney could literally pick her man. And a man could gather a harem of women ready and panting for him.
Hayden had felt nothing but disgust for this. When the event had last come, she'd barely been in her teens, hardly qualified to fight. Now, the girl was in her late teens, having seen her eighteenth summer and then some. She'd been training hard, and had believed that she would come out of this battle as a victor. And in doing so, she'd wipe this disgusting competition from the Earth, purging her kingdom of its filth.
Yet here she was, scrambling in the dirt, defeated and only after her first opponent. Hayden knew the terms: she knew what was to come next. She kept eying the man, waiting for him to move. She had to allow him to... to take what was his. But she didn't have to like it; she certainly wasn't planning to.
"You won," she admitted, each word obviously costing her dearly. "So what are you going to do now?"
You could hear the words "disgusting pig" in each syllable, and she almost spat on the ground as she finished. Those blazing eyes were locked upon her opponent, daring him to move, to even consider taking what he'd just rightfully won.
Failed. The great Virgin Princess had set out, wanting to right wrong and, most importantly, end this disgusting display that her kingdom put on every five years. Women and men from all over would come and engage in what essentially amounted to giant orgies. Warriors, mages, monsters and thieves would gather and fight one another. The winner took the loser, often in public and often in a manner that was almost humiliating. Fight enough battles, and you were invited to a tourney of champions. All those who participated, let alone won, in such the tourney were known throughout the land, often lauded for their prowess. A woman who did well in the tourney could literally pick her man. And a man could gather a harem of women ready and panting for him.
Hayden had felt nothing but disgust for this. When the event had last come, she'd barely been in her teens, hardly qualified to fight. Now, the girl was in her late teens, having seen her eighteenth summer and then some. She'd been training hard, and had believed that she would come out of this battle as a victor. And in doing so, she'd wipe this disgusting competition from the Earth, purging her kingdom of its filth.
Yet here she was, scrambling in the dirt, defeated and only after her first opponent. Hayden knew the terms: she knew what was to come next. She kept eying the man, waiting for him to move. She had to allow him to... to take what was his. But she didn't have to like it; she certainly wasn't planning to.
"You won," she admitted, each word obviously costing her dearly. "So what are you going to do now?"
You could hear the words "disgusting pig" in each syllable, and she almost spat on the ground as she finished. Those blazing eyes were locked upon her opponent, daring him to move, to even consider taking what he'd just rightfully won.