I Fell Into a Gay Video Game

***AUTHOR'S NOTE***

This work will continue to feature themes of fictional rough, reluctant, dubiously consensual, or non-consensual sexual scenarios. All characters are 18 years or older.

Also, for anyone it might concern, content warning for some disordered eating patterns in this and subsequent chapters.

Chapter 7: Royal Pain (Part 4)

PREVIOUSLY...

I thanked her for considering me, touched at the gesture. Not since Father Shion had someone been thoughtful of my wants or needs in this world. I sat in contemplative silence and let her finish the chore of bathing me before she left to let me soak in private.

NOW...

Once I finished, I dried and slid on the ass-less, lace panties and matching lace bra Flos had laid out for me. I re-entered my room, careful not to disturb the sleeping prince. The doors had been closed, blocking the guards from watching me dress.

Flos helped me put on my outfit for the day. It was one of the ready-made outfits that Findel had modified for me--lavender pantyhose paired with a darker purple mini-dress. The dress had spaghetti straps that accentuated my collarbones. It clung tight at the top, plunged low down my chest, and flowed loosely at the skirt, showing off my tight waist and round hips. Flos zipped me snuggly inside, and helped me into the matching purple heels.

[SPAGHETTI STRAP MINI-DRESS EQUIPPED: +2 SEX APPEAL]

[ENCHANTED COTTON PANTYHOSE EQUIPPED: +2 SEX APPEAL]

[CLOSE-TOED 3" HEELS EQUIPPED: +1 SEX APPEAL]

I looked as tired as I felt, having had my sleep interrupted two days in a row for a drunken fuck marathon. Flos' makeup application hid the shadows on my face. Pairing that with the way she carefully styled my hair, she had made me look quite alluring.

By the time I had dressed, it was already late morning, and Flos was urging me to hurry to my lessons with Madam Hera. Skipping breakfast, I went straight to the instruction room we'd been using.

The same bird-like woman that had greeted me before was there again. Before I could perform any proper greeting, she stormed forward. Closing the distance between us with surprising speed for her age, she lashed out rapidly with her cane. Striking my outer thigh three times in quick succession, I yowled and jumped back, fighting the urge to retaliate.

"Why are you hitting me?!" I demanded, flinching when she took another step toward me.

"You think I don't have ears in this palace? That I don't get reports on your performance? I know the shameful behavior you showed Findel when you greeted him!" She moved again. I was too slowed from this morning's prolonged exertions to move out of the way in time. "A lady! Always! Curtsies!" She hit me in time with just about every word.

Uncertain of how else to stop this barrage, I dropped into a curtsy, careful not to descend too low or not low enough. Luckily for me, that did the trick. Using the end of her cane to poke and prod me into the perfect form, Madam Hera clucked her approval and turned her back to me.

From there, she had me practice various greetings for people both higher and lower ranked than myself, polite topics of conversation, and how to say farewells correctly.

Next were table manners and etiquette, for which she used the midday meal as a teaching opportunity. "A lady is expected to leave most of her food on the plate," she advised. "A waist must stay thin and dainty, so a man's large hands may more easily grasp you."

Starting with the salad and continuing to the entrée, Madam Hera relentlessly scrutinized the size and frequency of my bites. I was still hungry when the multi-course meal was over, but that didn't seem to matter. It was almost comical how little I ate as Jester compared to how I ate in my real life.

After that, I was thrown right back into more training. That time, the subject was dancing. Every step out of order was met with harsh retribution. My legs were throbbing with blow after blow, making my steps even clumsier, resulting in even more abuse. I wasn't sure if she was misjudging or deliberately hitting out of place, but she'd occasionally wallop my meaty ass or sensitive lower back. If it was the former, I recovered pretty quickly. The latter practically had me falling to the ground because the pain was so sharp.

I danced until my feet felt like they were bleeding. Then I kept dancing because slowing down meant another strike from the cane. When my whole body was shaking and every other step was a misstep, hours had passed. Finally, Madam Hera allowed me to rest. Though I wanted to collapse on the floor, I followed her out of the room to an opulent office.

She indicated I should sit at the large desk on the far side of the room, my sore ass and legs throbbing when I did. Piles of papers were stacked in front of me. I glanced at the top of one stack and noticed what appeared to be a letter of recommendation. Madam Hera moved the stack closer to me, explaining that it was a lady's duty to oversee the hiring and firing of her house's personnel, managing the budget for décor and food, grounds management, and ensuring the home was provisioned for the various upcoming seasons.

The tasks weren't complex per se. They required basic reading and mathematics, but there was just so much of it that it was overwhelming. I did well enough with this portion of my lessons that she didn't see fit to hit me, even clicking her tongue in approval a few times as I quickly worked out figures in my head.

As the hours passed and I worked through the various tasks before me, I had to ignore my growling stomach. When Flos came to get me for supper, I thought I could eat a horse and still have room for dessert.

Unfortunately, the prince was waiting for me in the dining room, downing a hefty serving of wine. Confident he was the one that snitched on me to Madam Hera, I carefully curtsied as I entered the room. Though my legs shook from the day's exertions, I kept my form perfect. Seemingly pleased, Hubriste invited me to sit.

I cast a quick glance around the room as I took my seat. A butler was present, whispering something to the prince before standing off in the corner to oversee the meal. There were also six guards, two stationed at each doorway, and Sir Videre standing silently behind his liege. An assortment of maids, including Flos, busily set the table, carrying dishes to and from one of the doorways.

He motioned for one of the maids present to pour me some wine, but I hesitated to drink with how little I'd eaten through the day. Noticing my uncertainty, he impatiently pushed the glass closer to me. "Don't be a killjoy, my lady," he said simply.

Reaching for the glass, a stray impulse to splash the wine in his face came and went. It was more of an intrusive thought, but I still felt the sudden hold of the automated controls on my body. Robotically, they forced me to bring the glass to my lips and take a swig, but when I tried to put it back down, Hubriste stopped me. Gently pressing the glass back to my lips and tilting it, I had no choice but to swallow gulp after gulp until the glass was drained.

Quickly, the maid came back to fill my glass. I tried to take a bite of the salad in front of me. Again, Hubriste forced the glass into my hands. When he pushed it to my lips and tilted, I had to drink or choke.

A slight hiccup escaped me as the maid poured a third glass. I quickly grabbed a bite of bread from my plate, hoping it could absorb some of the alcohol that I was already starting to feel. I was given just enough time to swallow before Hubriste insisted I down the third glass. As the fourth serving was poured, I could tell Jester's body was already pretty decently drunk.

I gulped, unsure how long this would go on. I was permitted to eat more bread and pick at my salad before he forced me to drink another. Though drunk, I remembered the pain of my lessons well and left half the plate untouched despite my hunger and level of inebriation.

As the plates were replaced with the subsequent courses, Hubriste plied me with more booze until the room was spinning. I was grateful that the prince wasn't attempting to talk to me outside of commanding me to drink more or faster. He was watching me, but I couldn't decipher his expression.

"'Mmhungryyy," I blurted, unsteadily reaching for my fork to stab at the steak that had found its way before me.

Hubriste laughed and leaned back in his chair, pushing back from the table. "If you're so hungry," he said, freeing his hard cock from his breeches, "You can devour this meat instead." Ding!

[THE PRINCE HAS OFFERED YOU A MEAL.]

[OPTION 1: FOCUS ON YOUR PLATE.]

[OPTION 2: GRATEFULLY ACCEPT HIS OFFERING.]

OPTION 1 was greyed out like last time, making my choice for me. I chafed at it and hated the feeling of the automated controls sliding over my skin as I selected OPTION 2. Stumble-rising from my seat, I clumsily fell to my knees in front of him, pitching forward so that my face was buried in his exposed crotch.

[SCENE UNLOCKED]

His cockhead smeared Cowper's fluid over my cheek as it passed before I was face-deep in coarse, blond pubic hair. I struggled to raise myself onto my knees, but once I did, I gulped him into my small mouth without hesitation.

Being drunk was helping me overcome some of Jester's natural shortcomings, like his inability to deepthroat. I relaxed and swallowed as his cockhead hit my uvula, trying to force it down. My eyes were watering, and I failed the first couple of times. I had to take a break to breathe through my nose while still working the shaft with my tongue, so that Hubriste didn't get bored and take matters into his own hands.

On the contrary, he looked like he was enjoying my efforts, leaning back and relaxing while I drooled and slurped on his knob. "My slutty saintess loves cock for dinner," he announced to the room, petting my hair while he did. "Videre, Famul, look at how eagerly she tries to fit my rod down her wanton gullet."

Videre stepped forward to watch me closer, but the butler hesitated.

"Don't be shy. She loves to be watched," Hubriste lied yet again.

Despite my true feelings, the words that came out of my mouth when I pulled away from the royal cock before me agreed. "Being watched gets my clit hard... makes my pussy ache for my prince." While I spoke, I caressed his prick with my fingers, gathering the mixture of saliva and pre-cum. When I returned my mouth to its position on his rod, my hand strayed behind me. The mini-dress was exposing my pantyhose-covered ass to the room, too short to cover me as I kneeled.

My wet finger traced a circle at my backdoor and the fabric spread apart, exposing my pink, puckered hole. I started fingerfucking myself while I sloppily worked the cock in my mouth. After much struggling, I finally managed to swallow Hubriste's girth down my throat, blocking any oxygen, tears flowing, and my gag reflex causing me to convulse occasionally. Every time my body shook, the seal my lips created around his dick was broken. A flood of drool would escape me, running down my chin and onto his groin.

He watched me intently, only breaking our gaze to take a gulp of wine or a bite of food. After what felt like an hour on my knees, but was likely much less, Hubriste came directly down my throat, filling my stomach with a topping of cum to mix with the wine I'd drunk.

[LUST: (*******/---)]

Embarrassingly, I was still fingering my hole while Hubriste pushed me away from his softening dick, still polluting the space with the noise of my wet pussy squelching around my two fingers. He smiled, taking more bites of food, while I was denied supper in favor of the erotic showcase I was putting on.

My knees were screaming at me when Hubriste pulled me to my feet. My legs felt weak and like they might buckle, but I didn't have to worry about that for long since he quickly pitched me over the table and his empty plate. I was drunk and hungry enough to notice that my food was just out of reach before I felt his fingers join my own in my pliable hole. He pushed the enchanted fabric further from my entrance, spreading my cheeks wide.

"Have you ever seen such a pristine, pink cunt?" he asked the men behind him, who agreed that they had, indeed, never seen a pussy like mine.

I reddened shamefully, but recognized the barest hint of pride as they praised me. I quickly squashed the feeling down and chalked it up to my drunken state.

He removed his digits and pushed mine to the side, just long enough to push his turgid cock inside me. His glans battered at my prostate, making my body sing with joy and lust. "Lemme cummm, pleeease," I begged, already at my peak.

He laughed at me and started fucking me at a breakneck pace, shaking the table underneath us, and I was sure that he was bruising that perfect pink pussy he'd just been admiring.

"Ah! Angh! Ha!" I cried out with every jab as the noises were roughly fucked from my body. "Give it...to...me!" I added brokenly, trying to entice him to let me cum.

[LUST: (********/--)]

I looked up and noticed the guards in the room were all watching. Some had already started masturbating, while others hesitated. I could hear both the butler and Videre beating their meat behind us.

"I want--ooh--everyone...to watch me...cum!" I exclaimed, squeezing my pussy around his cock with every other word. There was a fluttering in my lower stomach as I lied. I could feel the eyes of all the men in the room almost as intensely as I could feel the prince pounding my eager cunt.

"I knew you'd be a fun drunk," he laughed, while he fucked me harder.

My legs were spasming underneath me, every stroke of his cock like electricity circulating through my body. All my weight was on the table at that point. After a few more minutes of that treatment, he said those sweet, magic words, freeing me.

The ding of the notification chimed; my clit jumped and twitched as it released a shot of pathetic, almost clear liquid. My pussy was contracting around his cock uncontrollably by then, egging him on to release into my bowels--he began erupting jet after jet of hot seed inside me.

[LUST: (*******/---)]

He took me more, again and again, sometimes letting me cum, sometimes letting me dance on the edge for an excruciating amount of time. By the time he finished, hours had again passed, and I was a worn-down mess, cum leaking from both my cunt and the corners of my mouth. He was refreshed and quaffed a final glass of wine before leaving me spread out on the floor to collect myself while he went off to party and gamble the night away again.

Flos helped me to my feet and to straighten out my clothing. My stomach was growling the whole way back to my room, but I ignored it, taking a cold shower as soon as I was alone. Nude, I re-entered my bedroom and immediately honed in on a glittering bundle on my desk--a cloth-wrapped parcel of bread and cheese. I scarfed the food and finally went to bed with a somewhat satisfied stomach.

For the next week, my days fell into a pattern. They started in the early morning hours between two to four, whenever Hubriste would drunkenly come into my room and fuck me in my bed for hours before passing out on top of me. From there, I took a shower or a bath before Flos helped me dress.

Afterward, I would go to my lessons with Madam Hera, who had begun to include needlepoint into the curriculum, a task I did not appear suited for. Between stabbing my fingers and the blows to my (sometimes bare, depending on the outfit) thighs, I was consistently in pain by the time lunch rolled around. Madam Hera still closely scrutinized my meals and remarked on every bite I took. Halfway through the week, I was starting to feel lightheaded from lack of sustenance and increased exercise in the form of dancing and fucking. I got by on the bread and cheese Flos would sneak for me.

After lunch, I always had dancing lessons. I wished I could say that I improved enough over the week to avoid the cane more often than not, but that wasn't the case. Madam Hera relished every misstep, hitting me with vigor.

Hubriste took to joining me regularly for dinner. He sometimes commented on the bruises marring my fair skin, caressing them with a gentle stroke before fucking me on the table, in his chair, or on the floor--perhaps all three, depending on his mood. I couldn't get used to the fixed gazes of the guards and the male wait staff, or the politely averted gazes of the maids, some of whom were flushed red at the sight.

By the end of the week, I was more than familiar with his cock. I was getting dicked down so regularly that my pussy remembered his shape, fitting him like a glove, letting his cockhead pop into the bend of my colon like it belonged there. He took to petting my belly and kissing my neck while he came, willing his seed to take root inside me.

My anxiety simmered underneath the surface as every day passed. Was I spending too much time following a schedule the prince had laid out for me? Was this really the best way to win the game? I wasn't exactly doing anything of consequence, was I? I couldn't see how learning embroidery and dance would help me make Hubriste the emperor's heir. What if I was stuck here forever? Had this become my life?

Under Madam Hera's watchful eye, I was eating half of what appeared to be a four-ounce cut of salmon for lunch, and trying to fight just those kinds of fear-inducing thoughts when Hubriste and his entourage came barging into the room unannounced. Practically leaping to my feet, I curtsied to greet him. It was the perfect curtsy, made all the more beautiful by my luxurious red dress. It was a mermaid cut, hugging my body tightly at the torso and hips before flaring out at the knee. The plunging neckline allowed for the perfect view down the tiny cleavage created by the strapless bra I had equipped.

He beamed at me before turning to Madam Hera. "You're doing a marvelous job training her. Watching you iron out her crude manner and see her carry herself as a real lady is delightful. But I need her this afternoon, so you're free to take the rest of the day off, madam."

Shining with pride, she thanked him and left the room.

He turned his attention to me. "I've summoned painters and jewelers for this afternoon, but I'm afraid there will only be time to see one group. I thought I'd give you the option," he smiled, but there was something in it I couldn't place. Ding!

[WHICH ARTISTS WOULD YOU LIKE TO MEET?]

[OPTION 1: JEWELERS]

[OPTION 2: PAINTERS]

Madam Hera had told me that both men and women needed jewelry to appropriately exhibit their ranking in high society. For men, it was typically rings and watches, but women had much more variety. I knew that Hubriste would take this opportunity to reinforce my feminine role... but the thought of having my image as Jester immortalized in a portrait made my skin crawl.

It was bad enough that I could barely escape mirrors in so many rooms, but there was also my Status window, which I could accidentally summon with a stray thought, to be greeted by Jester's warped image of me.

Choosing OPTION 1, I asked to see the jewelers and relinquished all thoughts of a painting. For just a moment, Hubriste's smile seemed to flicker, but then it was back, wider than ever. He invited me to take his arm and escorted me back to the receiving room where we'd met Findel.

Six men waited to greet us when we entered the room: three older men sitting down and three younger men behind the sofa. Each of the three standing at attention held their arms crossed behind their backs, smiles playing on their lovely faces.

The first of them, a cinnamon-skinned beauty with short hair and large doe-brown eyes named Sweets, wore a vest that revealed his pierced nipples and belly button. The pale, blond nymph to his left was Perry; he had his ears, septum, and lip pierced. I could see that his nipples were pronounced through his thin tunic in a way that made me wonder if they were similarly pierced. The final youth, Murtin, was swarthy, shirtless, and had no piercings that I could see, but was bedecked in jewels--necklaces, bracelets, rings, and an emerald-studded belt around his waist.