The Contest Ch 01 1

Author's Note: Since my last unfinished story turned out to be almost decent, I thought I'd try publishing another unfinished story. All sexually graphic/descriptive content in my stories involve characters that are 18 years old or older, usually older, and all these characters will be mentally competent. The following story takes place in a completely fictional fantasy world. This story will involve non-humans, male bisexuality, pregnancy, group sex, anal sex, foot fetishism, and some non-consensual encounters. I might add some more interesting things later, though. If I accidentally make some inconsistencies in these chapters, then I apologize sincerely.

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Just outside the capital, there was the Royal Palace of the great nation, the great empire, of Zenthia. It wasn't only a single building. It was a massive complex hidden behind tall, thick walls of gleaming white stone and surrounded by a moat with retractable bridges. Not only was the Imperial Palace, the home of the Emperor, located there, but several smaller palaces were there too. Of course, there were more ordinary places such as kitchens, stables, and libraries, but the building that the Empress Dowager stood in on this snow dusted morning was a fine little palace with a bright red roof.

She was a very lovely, gracefully aging woman with hardly any gray in her pitch black coiffure of loops, braids, and buns. When a maid approached her, bowing and whispering something into her heavily bejeweled ear, the Empress Dowager slowly nodded her head with a gentle smile. She let her perfectly manicured hand glide up and sideways, her palm facing the rich paneling on the ceiling. The naturally long, elaborately painted fingernails of her ring and pinky fingers danced in the air while the shorter nails of the rest were less animate. The maid bowed again and hurried away with nearly silent footsteps.

As the Empress Dowager seemingly glided down a hallway with shimmering floors of smooth wood, her multi-layered robes fluttering and folding along, she almost smiled to herself because she was still very cross, very very cross.

She halted before a sliding door of paper and pale timber frames. Quietly, a servant opened the door for her. The Empress Dowager stepped past the boundary. Then she heard the faint scraping of the door being closed behind her.

It was a small reception room with a few chairs and tables. They had web-like patterns of layered rectangles carved into their overall aesthetic. As she sat down, her dark brown eyes lightly touched a potted plant. It bore a group of sturdy snowdrop flowers that relaxed even in the winter, their elegant white petals as pure as their names.

A nearby door slid a bit. Without looking up, the Empress Dowager called out, "You are not allowed to enter!! I'm still bitter!!"

A man's pleading, yet firm voice hissed out through the crack between the door and the wall. "Dearest Mother, if you won't see me, then will you listen to me?"

"Have you chosen a bride yet?"

"Ah ... no, Ma'am." There was a weight dangling in his words.

She let her pinky finger's long fingernail tap a white petal. "Then why should I listen to such a disobedient son?"

"Because I have a solution."

The Empress Dowager rolled her eyes. She knew her son could be terrifying. His voice could ring and careen all around a room, freezing the hearts of everyone who could hear. Yet now, as he spoke to his mother, the poor man was tender and meek. She didn't know if she should applaud him or scold him.

A sigh ... and then she thought, "As long as he isn't so weak as to let a woman rule over him, I can sleep well."

"You have a solution?" she said. "Present it."

There was shuffling behind the door. Then her son said, "You could choose one for me. I'm far too privileged. There are multiple candidates, all of them qualified to be my empress. A man should not have this luxury. Please, wise and graceful Empress Dowager, will you choose a bride for your unworthy son?"

"Unworthy?" Her many dangling chains of tiny golden rings, hanging from ornamental hairpins, made whimsical little jingling noises as her head tilted towards one direction. "Not long ago, your sword was encased in the blood of many, and here you are, begging to a woman as if you have no courage. Stand and stomp, Son! Choose your bride with confidence. I trust you well."

There was a whooshing sound as if a weapon had been swung in the air. "There are several grand ally nations that are worthy of strengthening their bonds with us, perhaps they would even melt into the empire. Would my mother be so kind as to lend her wisdom here? Please, choose perhaps ... three countries with princesses, and I will take the lead there."

Another sigh. Her nail moved from the flower to a delicate necklace about her throat. "Fine. I'll give you three countries right now." She blinked two times. "Ribenji has several unmarried princesses in their royal family, and I'm quite fond of their architecture."

It went without saying that the countries she was choosing had other, more important qualities to admire. So, she didn't bother listing them. "Udin has a few princesses as well, and I understand the people are generally practical and friendly." She shrugged as she named the last country. "Henrill has only one unmarried princess, but the lands are enchantingly beautiful." She nodded to herself. "Choose from these three nations, my Son."

"With the deepest appreciation, I will comply." There was another whooshing sound from behind the door. "Now I must devise a method to judge the women."

Her nose twitched and her tongue flashed over her white teeth. "Summon them here and have a contest."

There was a pause.

Then her son sounded much less meek and more like a confident, powerful man. "That's marvelous! It will be extremely entertaining! Yban will likely laugh at me every night, but he'd participate earnestly. I'm certain that we'll savor every moment of the game."

The Empress Dowager pronounced the prince's name with a well known irritation. "Eeeeeeeebahn ... his parents were so cruel. His name is similar to the sounds one makes over a toilet."

"You invent a new insult for his name every month, and this month I've won a bet with him." There was a gritty, knowing chuckle behind the door. "I told him that this month you'd compare his name to something involving bowel movements, and if you didn't I'd give him a box of the rarest sweets."

She slapped her own forehead. "What is he meant to do for you, since you've won?"

"He's going to give me a book with mother of pearl inlaid in the cover."

"Of course." She waved her fingers at the door. "Now go to your cherished prince and design a contest before I begin a new lecture on the importance of producing heirs."

"Thank you, kind Mother. Your son will obey immediately."

The door was shut.

The Empress Dowager stood up and adjusted a collar of one of her robes.

As long as there would be a legitimate child, she didn't care. An unworthy daughter-in-law could be put in her place quite easily. There was no need to fret.

***

When the proud king of Ribenji received the written request for a princess to study, he knew exactly which of the exquisite maidens should be sent to him. Surname, Aiyo, given name, Chohni, the seventh child of nine. She was renowned for not only her studious nature, but also her perfect status as a maiden. It has been said that whenever Princess Chohni walked among flowers, every single bloom would turn away in pure shame, for they could not compare to the faultlessness that was Chohni.

Well ... that was only what was said.

When the practical king of Udin received the request, he also knew exactly which princess to send off. The second child of four, Princess Lagath Brudist Apsalani was more than capable of being a mighty empress. Combat was as natural to her as praying was to a monk. Her body was sturdy. Any children forming in her belly would not only have a firm place to flourish in, but also the fiercest of protectors. In fact, the concept of a heavily pregnant Lagath, brandishing a long sword and roaring in righteous outrage at anyone who would dare harm her family or her country, had Udin's king chuckling very proudly.

As for the concerned queen of Henrill, she was nearly stumped. She only had one daughter, and ... well ...

She didn't think it would be polite or even remotely intelligent to refuse the Emperor ...

So ...

***

The three princesses arrived at the Imperial Palace on the first morning of spring. They were instructed to enter through separate gates in the complex's white walls. Then, the princesses and their retinues were escorted to different palaces so they could refresh themselves until they would be called to meet the Emperor and his Imperial Court in the Throne Room of the Imperial Palace. Within each request written to each princess' parents, there had been a second request. The Emperor asked for advice on how each palace should be furnished and decorated in order to maximize his guests' comfort.

He also asked for the princesses to prepare a single dance to entertain him with once they arrived, but that could wait. The princesses needed to have their rest.

Once there had been plenty of time for the ladies to recover from their travels, the three princesses were summoned to wait outside the Throne Room.

The Throne Room was massive. Dark red columns glittered in the fresh daylight, each one surrounded by very tall guards wearing stiff looking armor. A smooth, black floor of stone reflected the elegantly dressed members of the Imperial Court. The ceiling had gold painted squares with dark green outlines forming an austere yet deluxe pattern. A long rug of a matching dark green was in the center of the room, leading to a tall set of black stairs with polished railings and a large platform framed by a blood red canopy.

Most people sat at round tables on each side of the rug and chatted with each other.

On the platform, there was a throne. The frame of it looked as though it was made of gold, but it was likely gold plated. Snake-like dragons, birds, and various insects were formed in the beautiful metal back, arms, and legs of the chair. There was room for plushness, though. There were two cushions, against the back and on the seat. They were made of green silk.

The most notable thing was the throne's empty state.

Two colorful men with long horns walked to each side of the platform. They blew their horns very mechanically. The notes that rang out were sharp but not unpleasant. Polite silence followed. Nobody dared to have a conversation during this moment.

A third man stepped onto the green rug and announced to everyone, "His Imperial Majesty, Emperor Antonai Karlen Varesqu, arrives now!!"

Aside from the guards, who were required to be alert at all times, everyone knelt down to the floor. Even those who were sitting left their chairs to kneel down.

From one side, a door was pulled open, and someone entered the room.

Three hems, layered robes, black was the innermost layer. Then there was gold, and then green was the outermost layer. The rich, forest-like color was the most prominent on the man who confidently walked towards the throne. A thick band of black silk was wrapped about his waist with a golden cord keeping it in place and a single dangling brooch of white jade shaped like a snoozing dragon.

And through an intentional hole in the back of these robes, a fleshy tail as white as the dragon at the man's waist hung down to his concealed ankles. However, it soon moved up, tucking its tip into the waist band, forming a loop. Although its shape was similar to a lizard's, there were no scales on it.

Large white hands were peeking out from the black cuffs of the green, long and very loose sleeves. The short, opaque fingernails were silver colored and a bit shiny. As the man walked up the stairs leading to the throne, there was a unified greeting, a well practiced statement, ringing out from the Royal Court. "Greetings to the Emperor, may his life be long!!"

The long, braided loop of pitch black hair against Antonai's silk covered back shifted as his head turned so he could glance back at the people. The crown on his head was fairly narrow. It was attacked to his head via small pins and a thin band hidden in his hair. The base of it was essentially a circle of gold, but on that base there was a standing, sideways oval and a tall rectangle that curved away from the oval. Both objects were encrusted with so many stones that there was nearly no gold left to see. Two thin extensions of more gold, shaped somewhat similar to hairpins, were also attached to this base. From these extensions, strings of white jade beads hung.

As beautiful as the crown was, though, it wasn't the most unusual thing on his head.

From his brow, silver horns were curved and tilted towards his skull. They didn't quite form a circle, but they made a fairly round shape.

Antonai's head went back to a straight position. Then he turned his body so he could lower himself to the throne's seat. His white face nearly shone. One of the nostrils of his slightly wide nose flinched. His black eyes were prepared to evaluate everything brought to him. One of his hands rose. His silver fingernails tapped against his sharp cheek. The corners of his vicious lips turned upwards. Then he spoke with an august tone that had no room for nonsense.

"You may all rise."

Every one that had knelt automatically rose to their feet and took their previous positions. Some brushed dust or crumbs off their clothing.

Antonai spoke again. "I need the box." It was a very simple, undignified statement, but it was incredibly appropriate. A tastefully dressed woman holding a small lacquered box walked onto the green rug, up the stairs, stepped up to a location before the Emperor, and knelt down. Both of her hands carried the box above her head.

Casually, flippantly, Antonai pulled the lid up. Inside, there were three pieces of paper folded into butterfly shapes. He chose the center one for no reason aside from the need to continue. As he unfolded the paper, the woman rose and hurried down the stairs, closing the box's lid. She then chose to linger beside the platform, her face stern.

He looked at the vertically written characters on the paper. Then he read them aloud. "Her Royal Highness, Princess Chohni Aiyo of Ribenji." He crumpled the paper into a clumsy ball. Then he tossed the thing over his shoulder. As someone came to take the ball away, another person jogged down the green rug, through a tall set of doors that had to be opened by strong guards, and disappeared.

An soon, there was something almost as alarming as a stampede.

Multiple women wearing shimmering gowns and holding musical instruments, their tiny feet pounding on the rug, they took their places before the Emperor and the court. They knelt down. Then they prepared their instruments.

A figure wearing a straw hat with a long white veil entered and carefully made its way forward. As it moved, one of the musicians began playing a flute.

Heavily ringed fingers with long and painted fingernails emerged and separated two sections of the veil. The straw hat fell back, landing on the rug. The veil was peeled away, revealing an impeccably beautiful maiden. Her almond shaped, brown eyes widened slightly as she looked up at the Emperor, possibly surprised to note his physical appearance. Had she not been told?

The woman's rosebud-like lips remained impassive. Pink silk petals dangling from a silver ornament in her topknot barely even moved in the air.

A stringed instrument joined the flute.

The woman's main sleeves had been rolled back, revealing a set of white under-sleeves. The slender arms flicked, and the main sleeves rolled down to the floor in a seemingly effortless manner. He colors in the fabric were in a gradient, from sky blue to gentle pink. The sleeves shot about like springs as the woman moved about. Her long, white skirt was uplifted at points, revealing the fact that her legs were hidden in loose trousers and her feet were in charming blue slippers.

Little drums, pattering, tapping, mingling with the flute and strings.

Spinning and bowing, twisting, spine curving backwards, the pale maiden was charming. The Emperor was more than willing to admire her beauty. The woman's nose was smooth and noble. Her cheeks and chin gave her face a shape like a melon seed. Her black hair was shiny and stylishly arranged.

She ended the dance with a bow and then went down to her knees. All the spectators, including the Emperor, clapped their hands. The musicians hurried out of the room while a new, larger group of people entered to kneel beside the still dancer. They seemed to be ladies-in-waiting. Their gowns were colorful and they had diaphanous stoles wrapped around their arms.

Antonai's white palm rose, his fingers steady. He said to the princess, "Your Highness, your dance was refined and quite pretty. I am pleased to have you join my court. Please take a position as an audience member so you may enjoy the next princess' dance."

The woman gave her response with a polished tone. Clearly, the woman was a sophisticated creature. "I am grateful for your hospitality, Your Majesty." Then she rose to her feet. As she walked off the green rug with a flirtatious smile, coyly glancing back at the Emperor, her handmaidens followed. Two of them rapidly moved their hands to the princess' sleeves, pinning them up so they wouldn't be in the way.

Once Princess Chohni Aiyo and her ladies-in-waiting were settled, the box of paper butterflies was brought to Antonai again. He chose another butterfly and opened it. He read the name aloud as the box was taken away. "Her Royal Highness, Princess Lagath Brudist Apsalani of Udin." He threw the paper somewhere and waited for the princess to be alerted.

Many tall and functionally dressed musicians entered the room. They held large drums, bells, and horns. They knelt and waited for their princess to arrive.

She literally kicked the doors open, earning gasps from several people. Horns rang out and then began an exciting tune.

This princess was a tall, frightening image of shiny gray armor, which clanged with her gait. Her hair and face were concealed by a helmet with a visor. She marched down the rug with high steps matching the music's beat. Soon, one of her gauntlet clad hands reached to her side, and she pulled out a short sword. The blade was twirled and tossed, light reflecting off the metal. She caught the handle easily and threw it up again and again. Her sabatons moved as if they weighed nothing.

Bells scattered their sounds all around. Drums were beaten in a rhythm that resembled a heartbeat. The armored princess turned her body around and around, using her sword to create a light show. Then finally, she slammed a flat edge of the sword against the floor, bending down on one knee. As one gauntlet remained firm against the blade, the other rose. The princess' helmet was removed.

The music stopped.

Brown hair as straight as an expertly cut plank of wood, occasional blonde highlights that might have been created by the sun, the ends of the hair only just caressed her pauldrons. The woman looked up at the Emperor with a heart shaped face and very tanned flesh. A mild, crooked angle was in her nose. Her bottom lip was fuller than its sister. And her eyes were oddly friendly, gray with little flecks of green, overjoyed to look at everyone and everything.

This was a healthy sort of beauty! Antonai assumed she'd be an excellent hunting companion. Her body must also be sturdy, or so he imagined. With a grin, he wondered if she could break a melon with her thighs.