Editor's note: this story contains scenes of incest or incest content.

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Cowritten by Alfie Quinn

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The Imperial City of Reme was ancient and sprawling, the beating heart of a thriving empire, an empire currently held in agonizing suspense over its future. The Prince-Consul, Gaius Julius, was dead, and all were in attendance to hear the reading of his final wishes, and to see him entombed with his forebears.

The people of noble birth gathered in the main courtyard of the palace itself, just inside the gates; behind them were the lesser houses of merchant princesses and distinguished military heroes; behind them was the rabble, spilling out through the gates and surrounding the palace, stretching throughout the city as far as the eye could see.

The royal family itself stood upon a large balcony, arranged before the masses, resplendent in their finery. The Prince-Consul's sisters, all famed for their beauty, and his nephew, a young boy of only twenty years who had loved his royal uncle greatly.

Black was much in evidence that day.

But it was no member of House Julii who spoke to the stately assembly below and the thronging masses beyond. It was the Voice of the Prince-Consul, his chief advisor, closest confidant, and executor of his will in all things in his absence, Agrippina.

"People of Reme," her words echoed throughout the city, repeated by Cryers who heard were chosen for excellent hearing. "Prince-Consul Gaius Julius was a veteran of a dozen campaigns before he ascended his father's throne with the blessings of the gods." A pause, a cheer from the crowd. "He brought fortune and glory to our illustrious Empire during his reign, and personally led the final campaign against the Elves of the Grey Mountains, ending the war with a decisive battle, but not before receiving a most grievous wound that would prove his undoing after months of valiant struggle.

"It is on this day that we consign his remains to their final rest, and on this day that the senate has unanimously voted him Caesar!"

Another pause in the oration, this time filled with the wild roaring of the nobles and the hoard of citizens behind them, a fervent cheer for their much beloved ruler as he was granted the highest title in death that so few ever achieved, a title second only to that of Emperor, which none may hold by the will of the gods, until all of the continent of Weyland was united under one banner.

A growing silence spread amongst the high born as the broad doors of the palace proper slowly swung open, and Caesar was borne forth. The casket, made from the richest dark woods taken from the Grey Mountains that were his end and inlaid with gold wrought so finely to display his final battle and mortal wounding along the sides, was closed. His death-mask was carved upon the lid, stern and strong-featured for all to see as it toured the city so all might pay respects; carried upon the shoulders of six of his own royal guard, fully armed and armored to defend him on his final march, full helms hiding their faces. Thus he would be bid farewell by his people before returning to the palace and being interred beneath the Temple of All Gods.

Such a somber procession could take hours to perform, even days depend on how the people behaved, so ancient custom did not demand the silence once the glorious dead were out of sight.

"As it is known," Agrippina began again once her old friend and mentor passed out of sight. "Caesar Gaius took no wife and fathered no bastards besides. As decreed by the gods in times long lost, he has instead chosen an heir from his father's house."

At this the royals behind her began to perk up. Such circumstances were rare, but not unheard of, and the tradition was a well-known way to stop wars for succession before they could begin. None seemed perkier however than the obvious choice, and had the Lady Venus Julius a tail with feathers, it would have fanned in a display that would make a peacock fume with jealousy. As it was, she made due with straightening her her neck and squaring her shoulders, pushing her breasts out against her tastefully-plain-but-still-clinging black dress as a serving girl subtly slipped out onto the balcony with a small, black satin pillow in her hands, a golden laurel resting on top of it.

"It is by Caesar Gaius' own decree that I do name his heir-" Agrippina proclaimed, turning to the royal family and gently taking the laurel from the cushion and holding it aloft for all to see, before she set it with reverence, not upon the carefully styled golden coiffure of Gaius' older sister, but upon the flowing raven locks of her son.

"Augustus Julius, Prince-Consul and supreme ruler of the Holy Empire of Reme!"

If the crowd had cheered and roared before, it positively exploded now. A wild cheer was common at a coronation, but there was more to this than celebration.

There was confusion, even outrage!

Augustus was known at court as a boy with no ambition beyond whose bed he could slip into next. He wasn't even the heir to his mother's estate. Nothing, it was commonly known, but a shameless whore and leech.

And none were more surprised at this turn of events than he.

It is custom for the newly-crowned to give a speech, and as Prince-Consul(however recent the title may have been), Augustus could not defy this custom. So he followed where Agrippina, his inherited Voice, beckoned, stood at the edge of the great balcony and looked out upon the people.

His people.

"I do not-" he began, pausing suddenly to collect his thoughts. "I can only hope to prove worthy of this responsibility my honored Uncle has entrusted to me." After another moment's pause he added: "And let this day be known forever after as a day of friendship and thanks, and remembrance of a great man. A most holy day!"

A ragged cheer went up from the crowd beyond the gates, and there was a polite applause from the smaller group in the courtyard. After all, who didn't love a holdiay? For a man such as Gaius, the holiday would be a grand one indeed, fuill of feasting and drinking and merriment, but for now it was a day of mourning.

With nothing left to say, the Prince-Consul turned to his Voice, who proceeded to guide him from the balcony. His family followed, listening as the somber woman softly praised him for the brevity and humility of his speech.

The newly-made Queen-Mother Venus kept a serene smile on her face while they were on the balcony, dropping it in favor of seething fury as she was within the walls of the palace proper.

Before she could vent her spleen however, Agrippina motioned to a pair of guards to approach.

"I'm sure you wish to mourn your brother," the Voice said, giving Venus a most congenial smile. "As well as reflect upon the honorable burden he has placed upon his nephew. These two shall escort you to your apartments."

With that, the two armored women approached the three sisters, ready to guide them to their quarters elsewhere in the palace while Agrippina led the Prince-Consul to the royal suite. If they happened to block Venus from following her son, surely that was by accident.

*~*~*

The royal apartments were easily the largest suite of living quarters Augustus had ever seen, and in any other circumstance he would have delighted in exploring. as it was, he was rather numb to the splendor of the rooms that were now his. He turned slowly, looking at the room without seeing until he was facing Agrippina.

The crowds outside would have seen her strawberry-blonde hair cascading down her back, and the black mourning dress; they would not have seen her green eyes, or the swell of her considerable bust, or the trimness of her waist, or the flare of her hips. Augustus had seen this all before, as he'd been close to his uncle and had come to visit many times, but it was like he was seeing her for the first time.

"I'm not sure what to do," he said eventually, idly playing with the hem of his tunic as he looked up at her. She was quite tall, so was every woman Augstus had met. Perhaps he was quite short. He hadn't met many ment to compare, and Gaius was a giant in his memory. "What to do now, I mean. It can't be as simple as a few words and a hat, can it?"

He's still so cute, she thought, looking him up and down now that they were alone together. Her eyes were drawn to his hands, soft dainty things that played the satin hem of his tunic; then his legs long despite his height, pale and smooth from a life of luxury, his calves only accentuated by the long straps of his sandals.

"Don't the gods need to... Approve of me, or something?" he asked, taking her silence as a que to be specific. "And the highborn, they have to swear fealty, right?"

"Correct on all counts, your Grace," she said, her gaze meeting his sapphire eyes. She took the briefest of moments to admire his soft, effeminate face, as well as the subtle eyeliner and shadow. Nothing garish, just enough to look his best for a funeral. "But the Temple will allow none but the Priestesses inside until your royal uncle returns and is laid to rest. The hour his tomb is sealed, you shall be summoned for the ritual. As for fealty, as well as all other pieces of Royal business, it is custom for the newly crowned to receive a day of rest, that you might plan, or simply enjoy yourself in private for a day."

"Enjoy myself?" the boy asked, only for Agrippina to smile and clap her hands twice.

At this signal, several wall-hangings stirred in their places before being pushed aside from behind, revealing several secret passages from which poured scores of women. They came in all sizes and colors, some taller than any woman Augustus had ever seen, some shorter than even him. Most were human, some were not; a mix of elves from the east with their pale skin and almond eyes, and elves from the north with skin the color of storm clouds and hair white as snow, were among humans of all colors.

Even with all these differences, it was obvious Gaius had a type. In fact, three things were immediately obvious to Augustus when all the women gathered around him in orderly rows behind Agrippina. Firstly, they were all very nearly naked, wearing nothing but a slender loincloth of golden silk that fell to their knees, held up by a delicate golden chain about their hips. Second, if they had been wearing anything above the waist it would have looked like they were a watermelon-smuggling ring. The heaviest girl there could have smothered Augustus with ease! Thirdly, they were all carrying ornate clay pots, each about the size of his fists put together.

"Is this, uh," he hesitated, blushing and looking this way and that. Not out of shame, but because he couldn't pick a favorite. "How they always dress for funerals?"

"It is how Gaius bid them dress for all occasions," Agrippina said with a chuckle. "You may have them dress as you wish, of course, but until you say otherwise they shall serve you just as they served him."

"I see," he said, eyeing one of the older women. "And the pots?"

"Soothing oils for your muscles," the Voice explained. "Each a different scent, and all safe to swallow."

"Ah, wonderful," he said when he realized what was to happen. He found the 'safe to swallow' comment odd, but thought nothing of it. "Can I only have one?"

"You are the Prince-Consul of Reme," Agrippina reminded him. "You may have anything your heart desires."

"I want you," he said, pointing to the older woman he'd been ogling, as well as a brawny woman who looked like she could carry him perched on one arm. "And you. "Everyone else may get comfortable and stay. You're all beautiful and I wish to look upon you."

"And me, your Grace?" Agrippina asked.

"You stay too."

With smiles all around, the girls found seats on cushion and couches, or lounged on the floor, careful to stay where Augustus could see them while he was led away by his chosen attendants.

As he was gently stripped nude, the attendants let out soft coos of appreciation at the sight of his girlish form, his trim waist and wide hips. They laid him down on the broad bed and gave him time to appreciate it. It was a massive affair of gold satin sheets on a feather down mattress so big and soft that twelve adults could fit it easily, shoulder to shoulder, and each of them would feel like they were lying on their own personal cloud.

Before long, they were kneeling on either side of him, hands slathered in scented oils as they began to rub him. Involuntary moans were drawn from his soft lips almost immediately as they squeezed and stroked his chest and arms, the smell of lilacs and strawberries quickly filling the air.

It wasn't long at all before the poor Prince was stiff as a board between his thighs, but the two beauties simply kept at their duties, save for the occasional 'accidental' brush here and there. Gently, they rolled him onto his front, the muscle-bound brunette carefully fondling his cock as he settled down so he wouldn't be uncomfortable, and massaged his back, his neck, and his ass; the entire room enjoying his moans and groans all the while.

Soon, every inch of his supple body was glistening, and every eye was on his plump bubble-butt as his attendants raised his hips.

"We must relax all of your muscles, your Grace," the well-aged blonde explained with a smile as her hands parted those plump cheeks for the audience, letting every eye in the room get a good look at his royal hole, her fingers tenderly caressing that ring of muscle.

"O-ohhhh..." was all Augustus could say at first, his twitching cock perfectly visible with how they'd propped him up on his knees. "Of course... Please, be... Thorough."

If he was going to say more, it was lost to a toe-curling moan as those skilled fingers found their way inside of him. She worked him thoroughly, as requested, probing and stroking everything she could reach with the digits knuckle-deep inside him, paying special attention to the smooth lump that was his prostate.

The other girl spent her time massaging his scalp, fingers buried in his fine hair, keeping him eye-level with the twitching tent in her loin-cloth at all times, even 'accidentally' forcing him to rub his face into it as she repositioned herself now and then. She made sure these accidents happened every time he moaned, so the bulge of silk-coated cock slipped into his mouth now and then.

"W-wait," he said suddenly, looking back over his shoulder at the older woman, watching the look on her face go from nervous disappointment to glee when she saw the look in his eye. "I need... I need a deeper massage."

"As you wish, your Grace."

Augusustus looked forward again and braced himself by gripping the sheets as he felt a certain throbbing something pressing against his slickened hole, moaning as he was slowly forced to stretch around her girth and take every inch. Before she could hilt inside him however, he looked up at the woman rubbing his scalp with a grin, and swiftly tugged her loincloth aside. He was greeted to the sight of a thick, twitching cock, the broad head glistening with precum.

"I need- Unh! I need my throat massaged too," he gasped, even as he dragged his tongue over the tip of her cock and moaning at the taste.

"As you wish, your Grace," she groaned. She could have pushed his head down and fucked his throat, but she didnt need to. He was eagerly doing that all on his own. All she could do was moan in pleasure and t ry not to cum too fast.

Agrippina watched as the Prince-Consul, crowned not an hour ago, urged two complete strangers to spitroast him. Of course, she wasn't left alone either. As the Voice of the Prince-Consul she was also the Mistress of his Handmaidens, and that meant she never wanted for a lover. Even now, as she reclined on a couch, her dress was up around her hips, and a pale elf was greedily swallowing her cock, a grey elf standing behind her had her hands shoved down her dress to grope her tits and play with her nipples.

Naturally, while most of the other handmaidens were content to watch and wait to be called to service, some were not. A few were masturbating, some where kissing, and some were fucking. One husky girl had a mouth on each niple and two on her cock, the poor thing a writhing mess under the onslaught of pleasure.

Augustus rolled his hips back against the cock in his ass, forcing it even deeper with a moan that was muffled by the fat femme prick stuffing his throat. The experienced woman took this a signal and gripped his hips tightly as her own began to move faster and faster, the pretty Prince's moans coming louder and harder, even as he was sawed up and down the shaft in his mouth. The thrusting behind him forced him to take it down his throat again and again, his nose poking into the muscular woman's pelvis, her balls slapped wetly into his drool-coated chin.

One had only to look into his eyes to see that he was in bliss. One could also find the twitching, leakingcock hanging ignored beneath the boy. He released the sheet and gripped the thick thighs in front of him instead, looking their owner dead in the eyes with a wild lust as he proceeded to slurp and swallow around her fuckpole. Partly this was to help him breathe, but mostly was to get her dick sloppy with drool and throat-slime as the head of her cock scraped it out by the ounce, the thick stringy mucus connecting his chin to her heavy sack with sloppy gooey ropes.

Feeling the tell-tale tingle in the core of her cock, the burly handmaiden tried to pull out of his throat, only for his delicate-looking hands to snake around her thighs to grip her toned ass tightly. The sudden iron-grip surprised her into jerking her hips forward, thrusting her pulsating member all the way down his throat and making her cum hard.

Augustus let his eyes fall closed as he felt hot jets of seed pump down his throat, his own spunk squirting onto the bed. His orgasm tightened his throat even more, as well as his ass, prompting the woman pumping his stomach to cum even harder as she gripped his head and ground into his face; and forcing the older woman behind him to join in the orgasmic fun, her back arching as her movements grew jerk and sporadic before she finally slammed her cock home and came hard, prompting Augustus to moan even more as he was flooded from both ends.

Slowly, they both pulled free with wet, slurpring, squelching pops, Augustus coughing a little as they shakily lay down around him.

Slowly, the Prince pulled himself up to his knees, looking a right royal slut indeed. With cum dripping from his ass and oozing down his chin, dripping onto his bare chest. he smiled the smile of one who'd only just begun to realize the possibilities that came with a crown in a world full of beautiful women with huge cocks.

"So," he said, his voice hoarse and gummy as he looked around at the dozens of women he'd yet to sample. "Who wants to massage me next?"

*~*~*

"That slutty little bastard!"

To say that Lady Venus was displeased was an understatement. To say that she was proud of her son was a fantastic lie.

At the moment, she was venting her frustation on her sister in her favorite way; Fucking. Namely, brutal face fucking.

Normally she reserved such rough treatment for her son. She'd spent years training him to be a proper little fuck toy for her personal use as well as a party favor or bribe. Such a thing was normal enough for noble families with excess children, but now he was beyond her reach, so she had to make do.

Aninna, the middle sister of the three, was naked save for a long necklace of pearls wound around her neck while still being long enough to hang between her tits; on her knees in Venus' solar, her ass pressed to the glass wall behind her, her hands gripping her sister's ass as her throat was ravaged.

Venus was also nude save for some jewelry, though in her case it was her earrings and the signet ring of her house. The ring was currently buried in Aninna's hair at the moment, the hand that bore it gripping tightly as she thrust.
"For years I've brought honor to our house, managed our lands while Gaius waged his stupid little wars for nothing! What has that little cocksocket ever done with his life but coat it in seed!?"

She glared out the window as she spoke, her heavy tits pressing against the glass, nipples hard on the cool surface as she leaned low over her sister's head.

Any answer Aninna might have made was forced to take the form of gagged grunts that were mostly smothered by her sister's hefty sack smacking into her chin.

Lucilla, the youngest sister, lounged on a couch nearby; a slender smoking pipe in one hand, her cock in the other.

"Gaius must have seen something in him," she said, sucking on the stem of her pipe and blowing sweet-smelling smoke rings towards her older sisters as she lazily stroked her shaft to the insecstuous show.

It was the wrong thing to say.

The furious matriarch forced her massive cock to distend her sister's throat visibly as she let out a wordless shout of rage, Lucilla getting a perfect view between Venus' powerful thighs as she stuffed it as deep as Annina's jaws would allow and simply held her still.

The poor woman sputtered and gagged, bubbles of saliva bursting past her strained lips and onto the base of her sister's massive shecock, her fingers clawing at her ass, but Venus only down into her pleading eyes with contempt and satisfaction as she imagined her son beneath her.

Lucilla only stroked herself harder, grinning at the erotic dominance display. She knew no harm was meant by it, and that Aninna enjoyed it too if her pre-leaking erection was anything to go by.

She got a good view of her sister's ass clenching, her balls pulling up tight to the base of her shaft and of her other sister's struggles intensifying as Venus flooded her throat with thick, sticky cum.

When she was done using her sister as a cumbucket, Venus puled out, her fat shaft dripping a lewd mixture of her spunk and Annina's saliva as she turned to face a young (and very erect, if the bulge in her white uniform toga was any hint) page girl.

"Inform the Mistress of Whispers that I would speak with her," she said, even as Lucilla rose from her couch and set her pipe down, approaching her sister with a hungry look in her eyes. "But tell her to take her time getting here..."