Wartime Diplomacy

     Elira , a slender woman with platinum blonde hair dressed in a black-and-silver silk robe, strolled through the imperial camp, stepping between the tall white tents where the Empire’s forces prepared for the next stage in their conquest. Their chosen target for this campaign was at first glance an unremarkable one: the Pusani tribe, a relatively small collection of primitives that had been accosting one of the Empire’s recently expanded borders over the last few months. It should have been a swift and overwhelming victory, the imperial forces effortlessly crushing the weaker enemy, but the Pusani warrior women had proven far more cunning and resourceful than expected. Only a couple of days ago, the rear of the imperial host had been left woefully unprotected as it marched into Pusani territory, and the natives had taken the opportunity to ambush the stragglers and seize a good deal of their supplies. The general who had made that tactical error, one of the Emperor’s wives, had been summarily punished for the blunder, sucked down his shaft and churned into a large load of semen, which in turn was thoughtlessly expended down the throat of the nearest serving girl. It had been a sobering reminder that no woman, no matter how close to the Emperor , was completely safe from his appetites once he no longer saw a use for them.

As such, Elira had spent her years of service to His Majesty showing just how useful she was. As Imperial Advisor, she counselled the Emperor on just about everything, from politics to economics to warfare, and the Empire’s continued dominance suggested that she was rather good at it. It could be an ordeal at times, as while His Majesty was clever and insightful at times, he was often at the mercy of his baser desires, making brash and possibly history-shaping actions to sate whatever lust had taken hold of him at the moment. Half of their wars had been started because his genitals had swallowed a member of a particularly powerful family on a whim. Still, as aggravating as that could be, he wouldn’t be the man so many followed and worshipped if it wasn’t for his powerful passions.

When she stepped into the Emperor’s tent, she was only slightly surprised by what she saw. Emperor Fredrick Carnellus , a handsome young-looking man with blonde hair, reclined in his throne naked with a look of complete bliss on his face. The reason for this was clear: his testicles had grown to immense size, bigger than the man himself, the squirming shapes of what must have been a dozen women visible within the pale flesh. A naked woman knelt on the carpet a couple of feet away, her hands and feet bound, her mouth gagged, and her eyes wide with fear.

The Emperor turned to look at Elira as she entered and gave her a lazy smile. “Ah, Elira , my sweet. I was hoping you’d come by soon. Is all well?”

“Yes, your majesty,” Elira replied, bowing deeply. “Reports have come in that we’ve had a breakthrough on the western front.”

“Excellent,” the Emperor sighed, stretching his legs out. “As much as I love a good conquest, I left behind a court of pretty noblewomen looking to shower me with their adoration to come out here, and I’d like to get back soon.”

“Victory will come in time, your majesty.” They both knew that the Emperor didn’t need to be here, that he could have left all this to his generals, but it was a quirk of his that he always insisted on overseeing his campaigns directly. It had worked quite well in his favour, creating an image of bravery in the people’s minds even though he never fought, and when his enemies finally submitted, he was present to accept and deliver his judgement.

Elira glanced at her ruler’s engorged balls, the outlines of countless breasts and buttocks stretching it out. “I see you’ve had another ‘feast’, your majesty. May I enquire as to the identities of your ‘guests’?”

The Emperor chuckled. “No need to be so formal about it. These are the Pusani prisoners we took captive during our last battle. Not an hour ago, I received a reply to our ransom offer from the Pusani chieftess herself, saying that she would never agree to my demands. As such, I thought I’d just go ahead and clear some space in the camp.”

“Of course,” Elira replied. “I’ve heard that Pusani warriors would rather die than surrender, so I imagine that those who are captured would never expect to be ransomed. You’ve made a logical decision, Your Majesty.” She gestured to the other woman. “And this one?”

The question brought the Emperor’s infamous smirk to his lips. “A witness, someone to tell others of my special ability. She claims to be a niece of the chieftess as well, so with luck the warning will reach even her ears.”

Elira took a moment to observe the woman more closely. As with all Pusani women, she had tan skin and wild, dark-brown hair, along with a muscular build befitting a warrior. But more notable to Elira’s discerning eye was the woman’s figure, with wide hips and thicker thighs compared to many of her fellow tribeswomen. It was just the type His Majesty preferred, and Elira suspected that the Pusani would be leaving bearing more than just a message. The woman looked to the Imperial Advisor with pleading eyes, but she would find no sympathy there. This was all simply the Emperor’s unique brand of politics.

The Emperor let out a pleased grunt, shifting his body so that the heavy sac resting on the floor between his legs began to shake with his captives’ struggles. “ Elira , my sweet, would you be so kind as to help them along?”

“Are there no handmaidens to tend to you?” Elira asked, glancing around the tent to find no one but the three of them.

“There were – two in fact – but once I’d gotten started on the prisoners, well…” He gave her a not-at-all guilty grin, lightly squeezing his legs against his sac to elicit a few muffled squeals from inside. “You know how I get sometimes.”

She did, more than anyone. The Emperor had a keen mind, but every so often his other head seemed to take over, and he would do nothing to restrain its ravenous appetite. It was one of those sudden feeding frenzies that had been the end of Elira’s predecessor and mentor, not to mention countless other women, both friend and foe. That incident and many others had imprinted themselves in Elira’s mind, and she’d spent her years of service learning the signs of change, doing her best to be elsewhere when the cock took control. She was still of far more use to His Majesty as an advisor than a quick nut, and she would not have her career cut short by one of his sudden, passing urges.

Elira nodded. “I suppose I have time.” With that, she shed her silk robes and bared her pale body, her breasts hanging high and perky. She knelt down beside the Emperor’s titanic testicles and pressed her body against it, her soft skin sliding against the multitude of feminine bulges within.

“Very good,” His Majesty sighed, leaning back in his throne once more. “ Elira , we really should do this more often.”

But Elira was too focused on the task at hand to respond, doing her best to stimulate her master and quicken the process of breaking the captives down into their liquid essence. She planted kisses across his sac, rubbing her body against every impression of a woman she saw. At the same time, she reached up and began to stroke his cock, currently eight inches and hard, keenly aware that it might at any moment grow to monstrous proportions and swallow her whole. It was in her best interest to make this quick, but she also had to be sure her Emperor didn’t go unsatisfied. She could feel the fleshy sac begin to churn, light undulations that would soon grow stronger, and she half-rose to run her tongue across the head of his cock to try and speed things up.

The Emperor moaned and groaned, the Pusani prisoner sobbed into her gag, and the captives within shrieked as the sac began to squeeze . The testicles clenched and unclenched, again and again and again, the impressions of the women inside growing much stronger as the skin pulled taut around their nubile bodies. Elira spotted a face amongst the writhing ball of curves and limbs, as if one of the women was trying to force her way out head-first, and advisor adjusted her position, clamping her thighs around it. She ground herself hard against the protruding face, happy to get some pleasure of her own out of this act as well. The Emperor chuckled at this act, then closed his eyes as the churning strength of his balls reached its peak.

Elira could feel the sac softening against her, her legs sinking into the fleshy mass as the contents began to dissolve. She focused on the head between her legs, grinding harder until, as she felt it melt away, she came hard, soaking the side of the Emperor’s sac. She let go and landed on her backside on the floor, panting heavily as she watched the last ripples of activity before the Emperor’s balls went still. It was done; twelve women, ten Pusani prisoners and two unlucky handmaidens, had been reduced to a sloshing load of semen, contained within a sac that had shrunk to about half its previous size, though was still incredibly large.

“And that, my dears, is how you properly execute prisoners of war,” the Emperor said, a smack against his balls causing them to wobble heavily.

Elira cleared her throat as she got to her feet. “Indeed, your majesty.” She gestured to the remaining prisoner, who had gone completely still, staring at what remained of her comrades with wide, unbelieving eyes. “Now, what about this one? Shall we release her?”

“Oh, come now, you know me better than that.” With some effort, the Emperor pushed himself to his feet, his sac dangling pendulously between his legs as he strode towards the remaining Pusani warrior, his cock still hard from Elira’s ministrations. “We can’t let her go without a little compensation for delivering my message. Unbind her legs.”

The Pusani shook her head frantically, but Elira paid her no mind, bending down to unwind the cloth that held her ankles together. The Pusani tried to rise, but without the use her hands, keeping her down was a simple matter of pushing down on her shoulder. She got another pleading look for her troubles, but Elira just gave her a smile. The prisoner had no idea how lucky she was.

“Now, make this easy and spread your legs,” the Emperor commanded, stroking himself.

The Pusani glared at him, her jaws clenching around her gag in defiance. The Emperor , conqueror of nations and object of worship, was suitably unimpressed. He gave Elira a quick nod, and she pulled the Pusani down onto her back, holding her in place by the shoulders as His Majesty bent down. But the muscular woman’s legs were still free, and she delivered a powerful kick to his overstuffed testicles when he tried to part them. The Emperor jolted at the impact, but the expression on his face suggested the opposite of pain.

“You’ll find I’m not so easily beaten,” he said with a chuckle. “All the same, I admire your fighting spirit. Now, let us begin.”

He wasted no more time, grabbing her legs and spreading them in a surprising display of strength. Despite the Pusani’s show of resistance, she was quite wet, and the Emperor’s cock slid in easily. She let out a few whimpers as he began to thrust in and out, but that soon changed to moans of a different nature, her eyes rolling into the back of her head. Elira had seen this shift plenty of times before, and she understood the process firsthand: the Emperor’s cock was quite variable, and once he was inside, he could expand it to fit their insides perfectly, getting the most pleasure out of the act for both of them. After the first few minutes, Elira no longer had to hold the other woman down. The Pusani began to move with him as he bent over her, their bodies moving together in a single motion, chests heaving. Elira , having already satisfied herself for the moment, sat back and watched as the pair climaxed together, and His Majesty ejaculated a large amount of semen into the Pusani’s womb. Despite the size of the deposit, some of which was already spilling out from her sex, the Emperor’s sac was still quite full, having hardly shrunk at all.

His seed planted, His Majesty moved back into a kneeling position, looking down at the heaving bosom of his latest conquest. “That wasn’t so bad, was it? Now, remember, I want you to tell your people everything that you saw here, and let your aunt know that if she draws this nonsense out much longer, she and many other Pusani will suffer the same fate as your comrades. Am I clear?”

The Pusani nodded between gasps for breath.

“Excellent,” the Emperor said. “Now, one more thing before you go. I’m sure your people have some way of cleaning a womb of an unwanted child, but before you do that, consider this. What I just shot into you is all that remains of your comrades. Should you abort the child, they will be lost completely. Will you let their ends be in vain?”

The Pusani just closed her eyes, evidently conflicted. It was a good enough answer for His Majesty. He stood, beckoning for Elira to follow him. They stepped outside, Elira throwing on her robes as they walked into the sun.

“Have a horse readied for her, and make sure she makes the journey safely,” he commanded.

“Of course, your majesty,” Elira replied. “If I may ask, do you truly intend to expend the rest of your seed?”

“And waste the essences of perfectly good warriors? Of course not,” the Emperor dropped his voice. “But our messenger doesn’t need to know that. Let her think she carries the sole legacy of her friends.”

“I see, then perhaps…” She trailed off, unsure how to make her request. Security in the Emperor’s service was fleeting and uncertain, but one of the safest positions to be in was to be the mother of his child. His Majesty’s appetites rarely if ever extended to women carrying his children; if he impregnated her now, Elira could all but guarantee her survival for at least the next nine months. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust her ruler, but it was always wise to take precautions.

But the Emperor shook his head. “ Elira , my sweet, if I ever decide to get you with child, it will be of much better stock than this. Royalty, perhaps. No, I’ve another in mind for this load. I spied a washerwoman by the edge of the camp, with heavy breasts and a tremendously thick backside. Go inform her that she’s to have the honor of becoming an imperial consort, and bring her to my tent once the messenger’s been sent off. If anything else comes up, you and the generals may handle it without me. I expect I’ll be occupied all night pumping babies into the wench.”

In the end, everything went as the Emperor expected. Informed of the Emperor’s fearsome abilities, the Pusani chieftess called for piece, and his forces marched into their capital unhindered. There, the chieftess knelt before him in full view of her people and, in a sign of complete submission, took his member in her mouth. Negotiations were brief but fair; the Pusani became part of the Empire, but were allowed to retain their hierarchy and culture. Elira suspected the latter wouldn’t last; already, Carnellan priestesses were working among the people, spreading word of the Emperor’s divinity, swaying souls towards the worship of his masculinity. It was only a matter of time, a few generations perhaps, before the Pusani would just be another cog in the imperial machine.

Ultimately, the surrender did not save the chieftess . A week after the display of submission, the Emperor abruptly consumed both her and her two daughters, reduced to a mere load to be deposited in the belly of another bed slave. In her place, he appointed the chieftess ’ niece, the very messenger who had delivered his ultimatum, to the now-vacated position. As choices went, it was not the worst Elira could imagine. The niece still carried the Emperor’s child, and had taken to wearing the phallic charm of the Carnellan religion around her neck. She would be a useful tool.

On the journey back across the border, as Elira and the Emperor made love in his bed-palanquin, she asked him what his reasoning had been for the change in regime.

“Oh, there was no reason,” he answered, hands folded behind his head as she bounced up and down on his shaft. “I just happened to have all three in my bed that night when the urge suddenly took me. You know how I can be.”

She laughed. She understood all too well how unstoppable His Majesty’s lusts were, and was beginning to realize that some day, hopefully in the far future, she would likely face the same churning fate as the chieftess ’ family and so many other women. With the Emperor the way he was, it was essentially inevitable. Coming to that realization, she found she didn’t mind, so long as she could be of service to this god of a man to her very last breath.