Golden sunlight poured into a golden room through pink tinted glass, casting a bright glow over crimson curtains and ruby colored sheets. A crisp, gentle morning breeze blew in from the spacious balcony, stirring the aromatic presence of roses and lavender, and bringing with it the fresh smell of oak and pine . . . but along with the vigorous scent of nature there was also the arousing stench of pleasure, sex, and wanton bacchanalia. Slowly life stirred within the comfortable, fragrant sanctuary, as the firm and nubile bodies of several healthy young maidens roused from sleep, all of them either naked or clad in the skimpiest of lingerie. Their skin tones mostly ranged from pale milk to golden tan, and the flawlessness of their bodies was marked only by the aftermath of lust, their smooth breasts and long legs still sticky with cum.
The first of them to erect her blossoming proud body was also the youngest. Her form was slender but athletic, like a runner or an acrobat, and her promising chest was perky but not as greatly endowed as her sisters and cousins. Realizing she was naked, and that her pink nipples were becoming remarkable erect in the cool air of the morning, she covered herself with a blanket and wrapped it around her body like a dress. She crept to towards the bathroom to wash up, smelling that her long blonde hair still stank of sex.
"Nicolette," a nasally voice came from the bed, stubbornly dragging herself from sleep. "Fetch me a glass of wine."
"You shouldn't drink in the morning," Nicolette shyly reproached her cousin. "And I think you drank enough last night, Chancy."
Chancy rose from the bed all breasts and hair. Unlike her slender younger cousin, Chancy was a woman with the soft, generous curves of an hourglass, and head of curly yellow hair that was as big as her ego. She was incredibly beautiful, just as all the women of the Belladonna family were, but she was also selfish and lewd, even now her impeccable looks were marred by a thick coating of dried semen that clung to her breasts and chin. Two of her lovers from the night before slept next to her, one a human male with dark skin and bulging muscle, the other a green orc that was even larger. Neither was handsome, but Chancy rarely looked for beauty in her lovers. She preferred big, fat cocks attached to stupid, aggressive men to anything else, especially personality.
"I said get me some fucking wine, or else I'm going to find the biggest dildo in this room and shove it up your tight little ass," Chancy growled.
Nicolette looked around the floor and saw several dozen dildos large enough to hurt, so she grunted and handed her nasty cousin a pitcher of wine and a cup, allowing her blanket to slip down her naked body. Chancy disregarded the cup and took the pitcher straight, tilting it to her succulent lips and chugging it with the expertise of a professional reveler. Only a single splash of wine escaped and spattered onto her breasts, mixing with the sticky residue of semen and running down her milky white tits to her navel.
Nicolette grunted in disgust, which she did not think was hypocritical at all. She had participated in last night's orgy as well, but she had spent the night either masturbating or making gentle, respectful love with the handsome boy she had brought with her. Chancy on the other hand had acted like a raging slut, sucking every cock and clit in the room, burying her face in a pillow, and allowing anyone who wanted to take a ride on her. Nicolette slipped into the bathroom to wash up, and left Chancy to her hedonism.
Chancy belched with most unladylike demeanor, and dropped the pitcher to the floor, rolling out of bed on unsteady legs. Her vagina and anus still ached from the pounding she had taken from the many, many cocks the night before, but it was a pleasant ache, the kind of ache she had learned to love. Once, several years ago, she had been more like Nicolette, and showed some civilized discretion in her debauchery, but then she had met the witch Nadia Méchant, and everything changed. Chancy had been tasked with arresting Nadia, and they had fought, but Nadia had won, and with her victory came many long hours of brutal, incessant, mind-breaking sex for Chancy, as Nadia used her and broke her like a cheap, perishable sex-toy. Chancy was left humiliated, ravished, and half insane, but she recovered from her ordeal as most of Nadia's victims did, albeit with a new, insatiable depth of sexual depravity. Even Nicolette had been a bashful virgin when she and Nadia had fist battled, and now she was just a slightly shy slut.
Chancy hated Nadia, she hated her so much that the though of the witch's long red hair and poisonous green eyes made her want to scream.
But Chancy banished the thought of that redheaded harlot, not wanting her morning to be ruined by that foul whore's memory. Instead she paced around the massive bedroom and surveyed the damage the orgy had left, and she was very proud to say that it was substantial.
Furniture was broken, sheets were stained, dozens of wine bottles had been emptied, and hundreds of sex-toys lay discarded and sticky. Some of the participants had already left, but the floor was still littered with unconscious revelers exhausted from a night of wild sex. Chancy nearly stepped on her young cousin Amber, a pretty freckled girl with a flat chest but a pair of puffy lips fashioned by the goddesses for sucking cock. This had been her fist orgy, and Amber had gone a little too hard perhaps, her tight pussy gushing with cum. Chancy also recognized her aunt, Josephine, sprawled over a couch, her mountainous breasts pooled over the hard chest of the boy who had fucked her so thoroughly the night before, his young cock still semi-inflated and wedged in the juicy groove of her vagina.
It had been a good orgy, one of the best in months, and Chancy had been to so many that she could barely recall whose cock she sucked in whose bed. There was nothing unusual about this type of thing, not in the kingdom of Hedonia, where nothing was valued more than pleasure and power, and life itself was nothing more than the pursuit of those two goals. Those very words had become something of a motto for the Hedonian nation, especially the Belladonna family, of which most of the girls in the room were members.
"Pleasure and Power."
Chancy chanted that to herself as she admired her curvaceous shape, massaging her large breasts and tenderly touching her swollen pussy. She was a woman built for sex, but beneath those soft, sexual curves there was a litany of muscles, and even the feint outline of battle-scars. Chancy, like Nicolette, were Paladins, the most elite knights and priestesses of the Hedonian Court, and the bodyguards of Queen Nymphoria herself, the Goddess of Pleasure and Power Incarnate. They were as powerful on the field of battle as they were in the bedroom, channeling their battle-magic and sexual energy into the same force. Hedonia was a powerful nation, and it made lesser countries submit to its will in more ways than one.
Chancy's mother was none other than the Arch-Paladin, the woman tasked not only with commanding the Paladin Order, but also keeping the Queen's bed warm at night, and enviable position, but Chancy knew that the woman who Queen Nymphoria wanted more than anything was the bitch: Nadia Méchant. Capturing Nadia as bringing her to the Queen had been the principal of the Paladins' lives these last few years, and Chancy was really starting to hate it. If it was up to her (and if she was the one to corner Nadia it would be) Nadia would be having a nasty accident long before she could return to Hedonia and work her sexual wiles over the Queen again. No, Chancy wanted Nadia to slip and break her neck, or fall on a dagger, or accidentally stumble in front of dozen arches practicing with poison arrows, or even mistakenly walk into a cave filled with hungry, man-eating ogres; horny ones, who would fuck her, kill her, and ear her; and not necessarily in that order.
