Author’s Note: It’s been two years since I wrote the first chapter of “The Ternish Betrayal”. To celebrate, here’s a special reblog of that first chapter – and a reminder that you can get the complete story as an e-book for only $3.99 USD in the store! (Click here to view.)

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Five generations ago, the tiny city-state of Terna had fought and won a long war for independence from the Empire of Gart that surrounded it.  Their principal dispute had been the treatment of women.  Gart’s institutionalised misogyny treated women as slaves, fucktoys and animals, and in their victory, Terna had won a right for all its women to stand up as equals and leaders.

Five generations later, Princess Kisantha had thrown it all away in an act of teenaged rebellion.  Without her parents’ knowledge, she had developed a crush on a Gartish spy, and after a short flirtation had eagerly parted her legs for him, surrendering her virginity to the enemy. 

He had said he knew some “Gartish magic” that would enhance the sexual experience, and Kisantha, eager to please, had told him to go ahead.  It had involved a ritual circle, and candles – with dark red wax dripped sensually over her tits and pussy – and he’d spoken some ominous words.  And, yes, the sex had been amazing…

… but afterwards, it had left something behind.  In the days following, she felt like there was a dark, sinister tendril coiled around the bundle of nerves behind her clitoris.  Sometimes at night she would hear a shadowy voice in her head whispering perverted fantasies.  Sometimes she would become aroused at inappropriate times, for no reason at all.  And, most worryingly at all, she didn’t seem to be in control of when she could, and could not, reach an orgasm.  Sometimes she would masturbate for hours, to no release, but other times she might barely start touching her pussy, when a dark voice in her head would say “CUM”, and she would suddenly be bucking wildly in the throes of a powerful orgasm. 

She distanced herself, guiltily, from the Gartish spy, and life went on – until, on her 22nd birthday, her parents passed away in a boating accident, and Princess Kisantha became Queen Kisantha.

It was three months after her coronation that Kisantha noticed the problem – long enough for the grief to have diminished, but not long enough to feel fully comfortable on the throne.  She found she was becoming more and more aroused.

The first day was awkward, sitting wet-cunted on the throne, desperately hoping no one could see how aroused she was as she heard petitioners and discussed matters of policy.  At the end of the day, she fled to her chambers, for a much-needed masturbation session – but to her intense frustration, she couldn’t make herself cum.  She spent much of the night in a sleepless, sweaty haze, dozing in and out with her hand between her legs, waking to idly rub her cunt and pray for orgasm, before falling asleep again.

The next day she was so tired she could barely think straight – and she was still horny.  In fact, it felt like she just kept getting wetter.  Her chamberlain almost caught her humping her pussy against an ancient oak table between meetings.

And yet that night, she still couldn’t cum.  She wept with frustration as she jammed every item she could find in her bedchambers into her fuckhole, hoping one of them would bring her release – but none did.  She thought about ordering a guardsman to her chambers and commanding him to fuck her, but somehow it didn’t seem right.  Not wearing Ternish uniform.  She briefly pictured the uniform of a Gartish soldier, and her cunt spasmed.  Yes, THAT would feel right….

She had another slutty, sleepless night of masturbation and erotic dreams.  In the morning, she knew what she had to do.

“Summon my royal carriage,” she told her advisors.  “I wish to go to Gart to broker an alliance.”

They looked at her in horror, but her word was law.  Within hours, a royal escort was arranged, and Kisantha was able to climb into her carriage and set out on the two day trip to the Gartish capital.

The second she got in the carriage, she undressed.  Completely nude, she picked up one of her expensive princessly high heels, and shoved the toe into her pussy.  And for the next two days, she did nothing but fuck it slowly in and out of her fuckhole, desperately praying for an orgasm that wouldn’t come.  When her retainers brought her food and drinks, she didn’t bother to dress, instead letting them see her, spread-legged, her face desperate and flushed, her shoe buried in her cunt.  Nothing mattered anymore except cumming.

She reluctantly stopped masturbating and dressed as the carriage arrived in the Gartish capital.  She could hear the Gartish crowds in the streets outside as she pulled her shoe out of her pussy and slipped back into her dress and corset.  She felt so slutty, but so needy.

Her audience with the Gartish Emperor was a private one.  She was shown to his bedchambers.  He was tall, mature – old enough to be Kisantha’s father – with a salt-and-pepper beard and a body scarred from military campaigns.

“Slut-Queen Kissy,” he said, smiling, as she came in.

“Queen Kisantha,” she corrected him.

“No, I think I’ll call you Slut-Queen Kissy,” he said.  “How can I help you?”

She blushed and said, “I came to broker an alliance.”

“An alliance?” he said.  “I don’t need an alliance with Terna.  I need your obedience, not your ‘alliance’.”

Kisantha squirmed.  “Please,” she said, and then, in a quiet voice, “I need to cum.”

The Emperor burst out in laughter – loud, cruel, reverberating.  Kisantha blushed and stared at the ground.

Finally, the Emperor said, “I see my mage did his work on you well, all those years ago.  Finally the Slut-Queen Kissy comes crawling to my feet.  And yet – you’re wearing clothes.  Why would you think clothes would please me, Kissy?”

Kisantha made an unhappy noise – and then, reluctantly, slipped out of her dress, and undergarments, to stand nude before the Gartish Emperor.

The Emperor adjusted his pants, and his erect cock popped into view.  Kisantha couldn’t take her eyes off it.

“Come and sit on my cock, Kissy,” he told her.  “And then we’ll discuss the terms of this alliance.”

Kisantha did as she was told.  The Emperor’s was only the second cock she had taken in her vagina – and both of those cocks had been Gartish, she realised – but it was hard and warm and filled her up and made her moan with desire and happiness.  The Emperor looked at her, and laughed, and then began to bounce her on his lap, driving his cock deep inside her on each bounce.

“Let’s discuss terms,” said the Emperor.  “Firstly, you will allow me to station soldiers inside Terna, wherever you choose.  They will be quartered in groups, at the house of an attractive woman under the age of 35, and that woman will provide for their domestic and sexual care, without payment, under pain of punishment by yourself.”

Kisantha moaned.

“Secondly,” he said, “you will make it a crime for any woman to not answer promptly or politely to the names slut, bitch, whore, cunt, tits, pig, or cow, so that my soldiers aren’t obliged to call your woman by those ridiculous Ternish names that imply that women are humans.”

“Please, just let me cum,” Kisantha begged, bouncing eagerly on the Emperor’s cock.

“Thirdly,” said the Emperor, “you will institute laws making it a crime for a woman to dress unattractively, to refuse sex to a man, to have female friends she doesn’t have a sexual relationship with, to have sexual relations with women that aren’t conducted in public or in the presence of a man, to fail to laugh at a joke that degrades women… and some others that I will think of in time.”

“Oh, please…” begged Kisantha.

“And lastly, I will appoint a diplomat to oversee you personally,” said the Emperor.  “He will sleep in your royal bed, and you will fuck him when he wants, and otherwise sleep in a dog bed at the foot of the royal bed.  He will choose your clothes for you each day – if any – and you will accept all his recommendations as to law and policy without question.  You will change your formal title to “Slut-Queen” and have your people address you as “Slut-Queen Kissy”.”

Kisantha just moaned in lust and shame.

“This curse will continue, by the way,” said the Emperor.  “You will *always* be this horny, and you will only be able to cum when I give you permission, or when my diplomat does.  And you’ll do *anything* to cum, won’t you, Kissy?”

“Yes,” said Kissy.

“Try again,” said the Emperor.  “Say ‘yes, my Lord and Master’.”

“Yes, my Lord and Master,” breathed Kissy.

“Do you accept this alliance, Kissy?” he asked her.

She knew accepting it was throwing away rights that her ancestors had died for.  She knew her parents would have been horrified and ashamed that she was even here, having this meeting, let alone fucking the Emperor and accepting his terms.  She knew she was a traitor to her entire gender, and that she *deserved* to be degraded for what she was contemplating…

.. but more than anything else, she needed to cum.

“Yes, I agree,” said Kissy.  “I love you, my Lord and Master.  Please let me cum…”

He laughed – and slapped her across the face, and bounced her hard on his cock, and just as she felt him begin to cum – spurting his seed deep inside her in what she suddenly realised was a manner very likely to impregnate her – he said one word – “CUM” – and at that point nothing mattered, because she was orgasming – orgasming from the stimulation, orgasming from the shame, orgasming from the crushing horror of what she had given away to satisfy her stupid, slutty cunt….

… and orgasming from the sudden fear of what she might do to get her *next* orgasm….

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