The Princess Ch. 01-02byJenny_C©
I don't know what to expect. They call her a Princess, but I expect her to be more like a General. She must be some kind of military leader to be in charge of such an army. Several hundred women serve under her command. Her single order could move a thousand horses, dozens of wagons, not to mention all their tents, food, and provisions. When they attack, they attack with force. I've seen them decimate entire villages, leaving no one behind as witnesses. Anyone to lead such an army would need to be vicious, unforgiving, and ferocious. She certainly must have great experience given the large number of villages they pillaged so far. So despite the seemingly sweet title of "Princess," I figure her to be more like a large brute of a woman, the equivalent of the class bully. I guess her the type of woman who doesn't mind getting her hands bloodied.
For the moment, I have no choice but to patiently wait for her. Her army of female soldiers has me well captured. They also have me at a distinct disadvantage. Not only stripped of my sword and shield, which would be unfortunate enough, but then they took all my clothing too. It is as though they want to make doubly sure I can't escape. They therefore strip me of literally everything I possess.
Briefly, I consider an escape, but I also know I won't get far. Any man would have a difficult time outrunning one of these fit young women. And my bare feet puts me at an extra disadvantage. I can't run very fast with all the pointy rocks, needles, and thorns sticking up out of the forest floor. Plus, being naked, I will be easy to spot. They will be able to see me running between the trees. For all these reasons, I decide to wait. I am wise enough to know when to pick my battles, or at least I hope so. There will be a time. I need to be patient.
My quest began two weeks ago when I left camp to venture behind enemy lines to spy on our adversary. My assignment was to determine the size and disposition of the invading horde. We want to know their intentions, their home base, maybe even determine how they were being supplied. In other words, I was assigned to find a weakness, any vulnerability we could take advantage of. An army is only as strong as its weakest link, and I was sent behind enemy lines to find that link. Instead, I fell into a trap and got myself caught.
I volunteered for the assignment because I considered myself the best choice: Young, strong, and able to run long distances with hardly breaking a sweat. I had training to fight with a knife, spear, club, sling, or even with my bare fists. I was even reasonably good with a crossbow, although on this mission couldn't afford to lug around such an unwieldy weapon. I needed to travel light, so left camp with a spear and a half-dozen knives. I hid them on my body to use in the case of a fight, or at least they used to be hidden. By taking all my clothing, the women soldiers also took all my weapons. They removed the knives along with everything else.
I knew the mission would be dangerous, but I volunteered anyway. I considered myself the best man for the job because I knew the land. I still know it. I used to travel often through this part of the forest, so know it well. I know the location of caves and abandoned shelters for when it rains. I know the elders in some of the villages who would offer me food. I also know which villages to stay away from, and how to live off the land if needed. Certain berries can be eaten; others poisonous. I can construct makeshift traps to capture small animals. I even know streams where the fish are plentiful. The plan was for me to live off the land, travel at night, and sleep during the day. My mission was to gather information and then sneak back across to our side of the line when I was done. I was in the process of sneaking into one of their camps when I got caught.
It was near morning, still dark, the sun not yet above the horizon. I was hunched low in the bushes, on the outskirts of a camp, attempting to overhear a pair of guards talk around the fire. Several times in the past I gathered valuable information this way. It always surprised me, the number of secrets a few careless guards could divulge about the intent of their commanders. This time, however, I had trouble hearing. The morning wind picked up. The rustling of the leaves drowned out their voices. When I stepped forward to position myself closer, I unknowingly stepped my foot into a loop of rope hidden beneath a layer of dead leaves and branches. No way could I see it in the dark. I never expected a trap. Before I even realized what had happened, I was lifted up into the air and was dangling upside down by one leg.
My capture proved embarrassingly easy. My strength did nothing to help me. Neither did my spear or my knives. My first instinct was to grab a knife and attempt to cut the rope, but just as quickly the two guards were upon me. I attempted to swing my knife at them too, cut them if I could, fought like a wild pig as I hung upside down by the tree. Soon, however, they held both my arms. They took my knife, and then they took the rest of my knives too. I was left helpless.
Two minutes later, the rest of the camp joined in. The guards yelled for help, which made the entire camp wake up. As the sun rose above the horizon, they surrounded me. There were at least a dozen female warriors in all. Cutting me down with their own knives, a pair of women held my arms out on either side as others used their knives to tear at my clothes. They stripped me first of my weapons and then of every piece of clothing I was wearing.
I both fear and hope for the arrival of the Princess. The fear comes from what she might do to me. The hope stems from what some of the female warriors say they want to do to me.
"Let's castrate him," One of them points her spear at my groin.
"His sausage and meatballs would taste good with this morning's breakfast," Another of them laughs.
When they finally let go, I use my hands to hide my privates the best I can from the eyes of the leering women. It feels humiliating to be so exposed. It makes me feel vulnerable. As for castrating, I can't be sure if they are serious or not, but I don't want to take the chance. Several of them look at me as if they would take delight in doing so. They treat me like I'm not even human, as if I am nothing more than a captured animal to do with as they please.
"Tie him first," A third woman suddenly objects. "I want to first get at his balls."
I am left in shock. The women act like a gang of rowdy thugs eager to kill me. No, not just kill, but it appears they want to first torture me. I have never come across such violent females before.
Again they take my arms. They drag me over to a tree to tie me up, tie me with my arms behind the tree, my privates exposed in front. Not just divested of my weapons and clothes, but now unable to cover myself too.
"You can't do this," I attempt to talk my way out of it. "I'm just a peasant farmer."
They only laugh at me. "Not with all those knives hidden on you," They chide.
"And not with the size of that dick!" One of them points at it. She insists I am some sort of warrior because I have a big dick. Several of the women laugh at this.
They then order me to stand up straight so all the women can have a good look at me, and then they do look. They look right at me, at my naked body, and there is nowhere for me to turn. I can't even cover myself. The women have me surrounded and can see from every angle. Several times I try to hunch low to cover myself the best I can, but then a pair of them take me by my elbows and force me to stand up straight again.
"He's got a nice one," Several of them comment when they look.
"Nice and big!" Again they comment about my size. The women take delight in talking about the size of my privates right in front of me, making subtle references about what they would like to do with me, and then how they would like to use me. I recall the earlier reference about my balls and fear one of them might reach out and squeeze them.
"A good looking ass too," Someone attempts to look at me from behind. "Let's get a better look at his ass too."
First they tie me up to the tree on the outskirts of camp, and then they move me to a more convenient location in the middle of their temporary camp. They untie my hands, pull me forward with a woman on each arm, and then trip me so I almost fall. Two more women grab my unsupported legs. One woman on each arm, two more on each of my legs, they carry me prone, face up into camp.
Closer to the fire, they tie me up again, except this time between a pair of trees. One of them yells for more rope. I feel a noose tighten around each of my wrists. Pulling my arms open, they find a pair of trees that happen to be at just the right distance apart. They expose me fully.
"Now we can see his ass," One of them speaks from behind.
"I like his ass too," A more vociferous woman looks at me from in front. "But I still like his cock the best."
I stand relatively close to the fire. The warmth of the flames feels good upon my exposed flesh. They add more sticks and logs to create a bigger fire to both add heat and have more light to see me by.
"Excellent cock," The women aren't shy about what they are looking at.
"Such a shame for him to lose it!" Others hint some more at what might be in store for me.
Their comments worry me. For the first time, I am genuinely afraid, not so much of dying, but of the pain they might first inflict on me. I am a spy, yes, and they probably know I was trying to spy on them. Even worse, I am a male, and the scenes they left behind in the villages showed me what they did with males.
"Put your knives away!" Thankfully, one of the women eventually comes to my rescue. She steps in front of the others, like an officer to his men – except this clearly is no man. She looks ravishing, tall and lean, and barely clothed. Her head of brunette hair lies in a tangled mess, making it look as if she just got out of bed, disturbed by the fracas outside her tent. Most noticeable is her chest and what the thin strap of fabric fails to cover.
"He's got more to offer than most," The young beauty looks critically at me, looks mostly down at me. She steps up and stands right in front of me. "The Princess might like to have a go at this one."
"But we want his balls," Others disagree.
"How about just one ball?" Another attempts a compromise. "He won't miss just one of them. He can still offer pleasure with just the one."
"No!" The apparent leader of the encampment orders them to stay back. "He gets to keep both of them. And his shaft too, at least until the Princess arrives."
I cringe at their comments. Are they serious? Or are they only teasing? I have no way of knowing, but hearing the same type of language from the beautiful leader makes me a lot more worried. I guess her to be a junior officer, perhaps the rank of a lieutenant. I can't tell rank in this army of female soldiers. No one wears stripes or any other emblem to distinguish them in rank. They don't wear much anything else in the way of clothing either.
I first noticed it a week ago and upon my first encounter of a camp. It was impossible for a man not to notice their general lack of clothing. Now, upon closer inspection, it becomes a lot clearer. Perhaps it being near morning has something to do with it too. Whatever the reason, none of the women wears much in the way of clothing: Shorts or leather thongs around their waists, and a strapless strip of cloth to partially cover their chests. Stomachs lay bare, along with a seemingly endless supply of long legs. The thongs are short, little more than a strap of leather to hold weapons and various tools at their side. It leaves most of their thighs exposed. The strap around their chest isn't much wider; wide enough to cover the furthest protrusion of their breasts, but not enough to cover them completely. On some of the bustier women, the lower portions of their boobs are exposed as well.
The one in charge wears the least of all, or perhaps she only appears to wear less because of her large breasts. A fit young woman, shorter than most of the others, she stands at about 160 centimeters tall. She looks young for a senior officer. I guess her to be in her late 20s. She wears her hair short, like a man, but clearly is no man. She has a pretty face, beautiful eyes, and a well proportioned and trim young body. What I notice most are her breasts. The strapless covering leaves little to the imagination. It barely supports them. It leaves the top half of her boobs exposed so I can't help but look down into her open cleavage when she steps up and stands right in front of me.
"But Lieutenant Katie, I so much want to castrate this one," A woman grumbles from the outer circle.
"I want his balls with my breakfast," The same woman from earlier agrees.
I am too engrossed in cleavage to pay their words much attention. Neither do I notice the movement of her hand and where it is headed. The apparent leader of the camp reaches for me. She is a Lieutenant, as I learn from her title, and her name is Katie. This is what I am thinking about when she first grabs hold of me.
"What the?" I jump with shock. Before I am fully aware of it, she has me. With no apparent shame, she takes hold of me. She reaches down between my legs and grabs me by my privates.
"Hold still!" She orders to me after I jump back in surprise. "I need to examine you."
I naturally react to her initial touch. I try to back away, but can only move my hips back a few centimeters. I try to turn my waist, but can't get out of her touch. Plus, her tight grasp clearly communicates the fact I should hold still. I must mostly stand and take it, allow her to feel.
And does she ever feel! This Lieutenant Katie does not hesitate in the least to feel me. She expresses no shame, no embarrassment. She doesn't appear to think it improper. Her hands explore me as if she is accustomed to exploring males all the time. I get the distinct impression she treats me as nothing more than an object, my balls pieces of ripe fruit she plucks off the tree to examine.
"Open up!" She even kicks the inside of my lower shin with her bare foot. "I need a better feel."
I immediately know what she wants, and then for some reason do what she orders. My legs open to make myself more vulnerable.
It isn't enough! I open my legs wider still. My arms pull the ropes holding my wrists more taught. My prick hangs down free from between my legs – or at least it would hang free except for her fingers moving it around. First she takes the whole thing in her hand, and then she feels up the individual parts one at a time. Eventually she pulls the head of my shaft straight out of my body as if to estimate its full length.
"Impressive!" She lightly purrs, speaking it loud enough for only me and perhaps a few of the closest women to hear. "That really is a fine sized cock you have down there," She chuckles.
I am left in shock. I am embarrassed. I can't believe a woman can be so brazen. She even does it in front of others, freely taking a feel right in front of so many other women.
Finishing with my shaft, she reaches further down to play her fingers upon my balls as well. First one and then the other, she takes them between her fingers as if estimating their size. She eventually places a pair of fingers around each as though to estimate how full they might be.
"And these are very impressive too," She purrs some more as she feels each of my nuts individually. "Unusually large, and they feel swollen too. So full of seed!"
Thankfully, her touch remains gentle, never hurting me. I fear she might, especially after hearing what some of the other women want to do to me, but this Lieutenant named Katie never hurts me. I also fear what she might do if I try to back away or escape from her grasp, so I obediently stand motionless and allow her to feel as much as she wants.
"And so submissive too!" She notices this. "He will make for a fine pet, a sizable addition to any harem," She compliments me on my behavior. I notice she says it loud enough for the rest of the women to hear.
The Lieutenant feels up my manhood for what seems like an abhorrently long time. She feels all over, feeling up every square centimeter of me down there. She acts as if she wants to engrain the image of my cock and balls in her mind by examining me in every detail. By the time she is done, after so much handling, I can't help but feel at least somewhat aroused. Not much, but I feel I have grown. Lieutenant Katie and the rest of the women naturally notice it.
"Look at him!" Someone points as soon as she finally pulls her hand back away.
"Impressive!" Others express their interest too.
I can't help it. Not just because of the groping, but from the way all the women are dressed too. Breasts peak out from all over; long legs too. The women are so beautiful, not the dirty horde I expected, especially the lieutenant. She has the largest breasts. She also wears so little to cover them. I can't help but feel aroused at the sight of her.
"Very fine," She notices me most of all. "You should make quite a treat for our Princess when she arrives."
She knows it, I can tell. This Katie knows about my large size. Other women undoubtedly know it too. All they have to do is look. A few of them notice it earlier, when they spoke of me having "more than most." I have always been larger than most other men. I know myself to be uncommonly large, larger than any other man I know, but that doesn't mean that all these women have to know too!
When Lieutenant Katie finally turns her eyes away, she makes an announcement to the rest of the women. "There will be no castration of this one," She orders. "First we will introduce him to Princess Loretta. The Princess will decide if she wishes to keep him as a pet."
I feel relief, yet also worry. I don't want to be anyone's pet. I also still worry about castration. I don't want to lose my balls. I don't want to lose anything else either.
The women leave me tied up to the pair of trees while waiting for the Princess to arrive. They leave me naked, naturally, and they leave me tied in such a way so I remain fully exposed in front. My wrists they keep tightly bound; my arms they pull high and apart. A pair of women also wraps ropes around each of my ankles. With these, they pull my feet to the same pair of trees. They force my legs apart and make me even more vulnerable and unable to escape.
I can do nothing to hide myself while at the same time the women remain free to look for however much they want. And they do look! By the time Princess Loretta arrives, I have undergone a complete visual examination by seemingly every woman in camp.
I count eighteen women in all. The encampment is smaller than I initially thought, better odds for a possible escape, but an eighteen-to-one ratio is still pushing it, especially when I am tied naked. No more women touch me at first, not even the Lieutenant, for which I am grateful, but they unashamedly look whenever they want. Most behave surprisingly brazen about looking, even enthusiastic. It is as though they never before saw a naked man and want to ingrain my image on their minds. Many of them freely talk about me when they look too. Not to me, but only about me. They talk to their fellow female soldiers as if I am deaf and can't hear them.
"Do you see how well he's hung," One of them asks another as if I am nothing more than a statue.
"I'd like to see him full size," Another expresses surprising honesty, especially with the knowledge of knowing that I can hear every word.
Interspersed between all these disturbing words are occasional hints of sex. "I'm sure he'd make for an excellent fuck," One of the more vociferous women lets me know what she is thinking while she looks.