The Half-Blood Countess and the Flower of Life
Morning.
Long ears twitched upon hearing footsteps in the corridor. The servants. It must already be time to get up, the girl thought.
"Little lady, wake up." Even from the doorway, just as she was opening the doors, the girl's personal maid began chattering cheerfully. "Today is a momentous day, you must be peerless. Such a celebration happens only once in a lifetime, your coming of age! I will put all my effort into making you sparkle like a diamond tonight."
"I am not little, I'm only a year younger than you," the girl pouted, "it's my mother's elven blood. You have no idea how much trouble it causes." A sad sigh.
"My uncle has been regent for
18 years since my father's death, and I clearly remember my father teaching me to ride horses. Do you think I'm happy to be a toy for everyone to show off for so long?" The blanket, angrily thrown off, now lay on the floor, and the girl... no, it was now clear that this was a young woman. A small stature compared to the maid, a thin, reed-like body, pointed ears, long golden hair, a doll-like face, a modest bust, a gentle curve of the hips. In another twenty-five years she would become a beautiful woman, but now it was only the beginning of her long journey."I've read the entire library, my knowledge surpasses everything that could be in the empty logs that serve as heads for everyone in this castle. And still, everyone treats me like a pretty figurine—dust it off, show it to a friend, put it back in a box. It's infuriating! INFURIATING!" After a couple of minutes, the girl grew tired of kicking the blanket, which had curled into a ball from her rage and was half-hidden under the bed.
"Uncle is dragging things out as much as he can, the old boar, insisted on the elven way of recognizing adulthood, and for that, the Flower of Life is needed. It took a whole two months to bring it. Two months! It's a week to the capital from the elven embassy! But today it will finally be over." And the calmed girl headed to the washroom for her ablutions.
Day.
Everything was not going as planned. Her uncle, instead of being nervous, was joking and was clearly tipsy. And this frightened her because she didn't understand the reasons. Snatching a scrap of time, she managed to peek into the library once more. Flipping through the old, yellowed pages of the book, she once again skimmed the description of the ritual, sensing something wrong at the edge of her consciousness.
Evening.
The tall, skillfully decorated doors leading to the reception hall swung open before me. The huge, richly decorated room, with full-length stained glass windows leading to small balconies, designed for a hundred people, seemed empty. Only about fifteen people were present, among whom she recognized the count's vassals. The heads of the junior families stood near a tall, metal vase, higher than her waist, of an intricately curved shape. Proudly raising her head, not showing her agitation, the girl approached with dignity. In truth, she simply couldn't walk faster, as it felt like the light dress, vaguely reminiscent of a ball gown, was held on by a wing and a prayer, and underneath were only panties, a corset, and stockings with garters. She already regretted getting lost in her thoughts while being dressed. Surely her uncle wanted to disgrace her before everyone, presenting her as unworthy of the count's title, since her mother was only a mistress, not a wife, and therefore her position was somewhat unstable. But dismissing these thoughts, she examined the vase, from which only one tendril, coiled like ivy, was visible.
"Where is the watering can and the water?" the girl asked proudly and with dignity. The attendees smiled strangely.
"Your future highness, according to the ritual described in the book, which you have undoubtedly read, it is written that it must be your water of fertility." The smiles of those around grew even wider. "You have surely also read the anatomical reference book, I think your sharp mind can now understand the task at hand?"
Her legs barely held her. How could she not have understood this earlier? The fertility of humans, elves, and many other living beings lay in the ability to bear children. And now they were asking the impossible of her. A drop of fluid from her womb must fall onto the plant inside the huge vase, which she would have to climb onto without falling. Now the shape of the vessel made sense—there were simply no ledges to stand on.
She had been outplayed. Either she stops the ritual, admitting she is a child for another five long years, or she climbs the vase and publicly stimulates her intimate areas. And even if she leaves now, in five years the situation will repeat. So, she really has no choice if she wants to take power from others' hands. The girl made a decision. She placed her thin, elegant hands on the rim of the vase, gauging it. A jump. And the weakened fastenings couldn't hold; the dress began to slip. Exposing bare shoulders, a firm bust whose size was visually increased by the corset supporting but not concealing it. Now she sat on the neck of the vase, its rim unpleasantly digging into her thighs, and, scarlet as a poppy, pressed her breasts with her hands, not letting the men surrounding her get a good look. Quiet, vulgar jokes from the back rows drilled into her pointed ears, making her blush even more. The dress, now hanging on her hips, blocked the neck of the vase, forcing the girl to get rid of it.
Unbidden tears of humiliation streamed in shiny rivulets from the corners of her eyes. The girl's face still retained an expression of pride and dignity, which were now trampled into weightless dust. She could only not stop, otherwise everything was in vain. Ignoring the vassals who had already closed the circle as much as possible to devour every bit of her body with their greedy gazes. The girl jumped again onto the uncomfortable neck of the metal vase. Closing her eyes so as not to see the vile faces around, she lowered her hand into her panties, beginning to slowly stroke her slit. But nervous tension, like a huge hammer, shattered all beginnings that could end the torture her relative had devised.
A quiet whisper near her ear made her shudder.
A tiny spot at the base of her slit, a gentle touch to which brought a warm feeling to her lower abdomen. Feelings unknown before slowly filled her, as if saying, this is what the coming-of-age ritual is for.
Grass in an imaginary garden playfully tickled her thighs, urging her to continue; the hand in her panties moved a little faster, sliding over the moist entrance of her hole, slightly parting the entrance to it, and a little later performing massaging movements on her clitoris. The garden was incredibly quiet, and the affectionate grass tickled her pussy, with which the girl's slender fingers continued to play. One of the blades of grass carelessly tried to penetrate inside the locked hole, and the reverie was interrupted.
Widely opening her eyes, the girl looked uncomprehendingly at her thighs. And the next moment, shrieking, she began to struggle free from the dirty brown tendrils entwining her legs. They tightened, not allowing the frightened girl to jump down immediately, and within a couple of moments, someone's strong hands grabbed her by the wrist and lifted her above the vase, in which many tendrils writhed, some of which were already hastily sliding along her legs. And following them from the vase stretched towards her an ugly, thick, cone-tipped, bumpy tentacle, as long as an adult's forearm. At its base were fleshy, oblong leaves of the same dirty brown color, studded with slimy bumps. Within a dozen seconds, several more leaves fell out of the vase, completing the horrific picture. A grimace of horror erased all other emotions from the girl's face.
"W... what is this!? Save me... Uncle, take this away, please, I'll do anything." The young countess saw who was holding her in the air, preventing the large tentacles from reaching her.
"But isn't this for your father's county?" he asked mockingly.
"I... I renounce in favor of the regent." The girl jerked her legs in panic, trying to free herself from the thin tendrils pulling her towards the vase's neck.
"And you will also have to bear my child." The now full-fledged count set a new condition, squeezing every drop from the situation.
"But that's..." He lowered her down just enough so that the bumpy tentacle's thin tip barely touched the petals of her lips.
"I AGREE!" The girl screamed as soon as she felt the thick tentacle touching the inside of her thighs, dangerously close to her pussy, and the fleshy leaves clamping her legs in a steel grip compared to the thin tendrils that now entwined her waist.
"And then you will bear the children of each of my vassals present here." In a tone brooking no argument, her uncle concluded.
"I agree." The girl answered in an extinguished voice, feeling something break inside her. Something very important, but in return she swore to herself that she would kill everyone present. At the first opportunity, she would slit her uncle's throat... A new phrase interrupted her thoughts.
"Well, since you agreed to all this, I can reveal a terrible secret to you." He lowered his voice to a loud whisper, playing to the audience. "The coming-of-age ritual? What nonsense. Did you believe my words? Or the words of 'my' servants? Or the book from 'my' library? It was enough to replace a couple of pages in the book, and you happily rushed here like a port whore for a silver coin." An evil laugh echoed through the hall.
Her legs slid in the rings of the fleshy leaves as if sinking into quicksand; the tendrils entwining her waist prevented her from falling sideways and now pressed her against the impatient embrace of other slimy petals, which immediately clung to the skin of her buttocks and pubis, picking up the girl and finally locking her in their grip. The thick, bumpy tentacle, unhurriedly, knowing she had nowhere to go, slid into the still moist hole, slowly, as if savoring it and letting the screaming girl feel the unforgettable sensation of her gradually tearing maidenhead. The girl writhed, screamed, tore at the thin tendrils, but could do nothing about the pain emanating from her womb. Part of the tentacle, covered in mucus and blood, appeared outside and immediately disappeared inside again, making the girl, who had frozen hoping they would leave her alone, thrash about in hysterics once more. After a few minutes, tired from trying to break free, the girl let out her first moan, which held no pain and which frightened her almost as much as the first penetration. But as soon as she began to struggle again, the tentacle began to penetrate deeper, striking its thin tip deep in her abdomen, eliciting another moan.
She could no longer sit up on her own, constantly falling forward until her hands rested on the chest of her uncle standing before her. As soon as she arched her back and found support, the shaft of the tentacle worked even faster, making the girl oblivious to the people silently standing around with bulging trousers. Tears flowed incessantly, palms clenched someone else's clothing, and quiet moans escaped with constant regularity. Calloused hands kneaded her breasts, pinched her swollen nipples, while her hole was pierced by the repulsive-looking but so pleasant inside appendage. Something changed; something was bursting out of her, like a compressed spring, approaching with every movement inside.
"Aaaaaah, aaaaaah." Her mouth, gaping in an attempt to breathe, emitted languid moans. Rolling eyes, a limp body, and hands convulsively clawing at someone else's clothing showed the degree of bliss that had seized the girl. But the thick tentacle wasn't finished. The thin tip slid into the entrance, opening slightly from blissful spasms, leading to the deepest part of her belly. As soon as this happened, the bumps on the tentacle literally exploded with whitish, viscous mucus, splashing in streams from her vagina. The thin tip went deeper and deeper, unsealing the final lock in her victim's body, where the ever-increasing fluid penetrated, sucking out life itself and transferring it to the creature.
In return, the fluid remaining inside the belly, saturated with remnants of life force, grants, until her inevitable death, the incredible ability to tirelessly produce offspring. The girl herself, at the end, only let out an inhuman howl, as if understanding, with the remnants of her mind slipping into oblivion, that something irreparably terrible was happening to her.
And as soon as the whitish fluid was absorbed, the former young countess passionately received the so-desired first portion of human seed and thus for the first, but not the last, time became a future mother.