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Please enjoy the story. Check the tags for your trigger warnings.

Trans rights are human rights, abortion rights are human rights, and fascists get the rope.

~Shmoopsy

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Your Highness Princess Shesanna Irithica,

I write to you on the fields of Greannor, where I have just smashed your army in the field; your troops are scattered, their discipline broken, their commanders slain or fled. None remain to stand between my army and our march to your capital.

It will comfort you to know that your father and brothers fought bravely to the end and died as heroes to your people. If you permit me, I might allow their memory to continue as worthy foes vanquished; however, the future very much rests with you.

If you raise a militia, close your gates and resist my annexation of your kingdom, I will be forced to bring more war to you. Your allies have fled or are suing for peace and you no longer have an army worthy of taking the field. I will camp outside your walls with ample supply plundered from your countryside. I will construct my siege engines while your people starve behind your walls. In time I will grow bored and I will smash your defenses and I will sack and raze your city. What cannot be stolen will be burned, those who pose no value as slaves will be put to the sword.

Alternatively, you will come to my field camp at the coordinates enclosed. You will present yourself to me in submission and surrender; do this and I will allow you your continued life, and merely annex your city. They will be taxed and occupied by my retainers and soldiery, but their lives will go on, and the walls will age a little more.

Choose wisely. Think of your people. I look forward to seeing you.

---

None remained by way of honor guard. Most of the remaining soldiers in her kingdom had fled for their lives, defected, or left to join mercenary companies. She rode instead with a few of her ladies in waiting and an aged butler she'd known since she'd emerged from her egg. Her scales were glossy in the sun, her long dress flowing and regal, yet understated for her station. It seemed gauche to wear anything nicer for the occasion.

The soldiers of their conqueror stood and watched her procession trot past. They were of the same species; the 'shu'. Lizardfolk, as the softskins called them. Her chest was flat, her tail long and ridged along the dorsal side, thick against the small of her back and rump. The soldiers that looked on were from a different land; their scales more brown than green, hearkening their more arid home climate. She'd expected more hostility and catcalling, but they looked tired from the recent battles and marching. One or two hissed something rude, only to be shouted down by an officer. So it was true; this general's discipline was legendary. The camp was in pristine order, the soldiers' armor and weapons polished, the upkeep impeccable.

The command tent was obvious. It stood well over the rest, nestled in the heart of the camp, given a wide berth by the surrounding tents. The air was thick with the smell of burning wood, of iron and leather, of cooking meat. Even the latrines were downwind.

She was met by a few large, serious-looking soldiers, who took the reigns of her horse. She slid down, not looking at them; in silence, she was directed towards the tent's opening. A few of her retinue moved to follow, but they were stopped. Sad looks were exchanged. Head bowed, she stepped inside.

The tent was a single large, open area. Small privacy screens were erected here and there to help partition the space somewhat. The center of the space was dominated by a large table that was, in fact, a number of small tables arranged together. Maps were laid out. Piles of scrolls and papers of various kind littered the space haphazardly. There were nearly two dozen males inside; some of them clearly high ranking military officers, others were pages, squires, scribes, and servants. All were of the Shu, their hides scaly, muscled, with thick tails that swayed behind them or trailed on the ground.

Dominating the room and the attentions of most of the commander himself. The Crown Prince of Jakkar, Chusoro Ogori. He was younger than most of the military men around him, though he stood a head taller than most, his bearing regal and imposing. He looked up from his work as the green-scaled female stepped into the tent.

"Ah, here she is now," he said, standing up a little straighter. All eyes turned to the princess, who straightened her back; herself not unused to being the center of attention, though obviously in circumstances better than this. "I suppose we can dispense with all the tiresome formalities. I and my men have fought hard and marched long, and frankly I think we're all eager to just get on with it."

"I agree," the princess said, her voice both feeling and sounding smaller than she was used to.

"Capital!" the prince said, smiling. "As stated in my letter, I expect your total submission. If I receive it, I will abide by my stipulations; your city will be spared, its people free to live out their lives under Jakkarian rule; tributes to be paid, retainers installed, et cetera and so forth. You will, however, surrender utterly. Do you understand? You will be stripped of all title and claims."

"Yes, I... understand," she said, wringing her hands together.

"We'll see. Go ahead and take off your clothes."

There was an empty moment of complete silence. The prince stared at the princess, and she back at him. The other males in the tent glanced between the two of them. One of the older ones smirked, crossed his arms and leaned back, eager for the show.

"What?" the princess asked, her eye twitching.

"Strip naked," the prince said in a plain tone. "As in, get your clothes off until you're not wearing anything. Jewels too. Bare scales, all the way."

"I don't," she began, feeling a pit in her stomach grow. She looked between the other men in the tent. "I can't... this isn't..."

The prince cleared his throat. "Perhaps, despite our common language, you have a different meaning for the word 'submission' and 'surrender' than we do. See, in our flavor of the tongue, it means you do what I say, exactly as I say, and you don't back-talk me. You simply obey, immediately. Or there are consequences, such as, I will go ahead and sack your city." He stepped out from around the other side of the table, eyes never leaving her own. "My men will surge through the gates. They will pillage in an orgy of blood and fury. Every single female will be raped beyond any further use and the males will be butchered, young and old alike. They will burn anything they can't steal. What is left that won't burn will stand as a reminder of what happens when my will is defied.

"Or," he said, lifting his other hand, his tone conciliatory, "you can do what I say and strip naked. If you refuse, I'll simply have you seized and stripped anyway, and also all that death and horror will follow. So you're going to be naked in about one minute either way, only if you do it right now, yourself, the only thing dying will be your dignity. Now, strip."

Her eyes flicked to the others in the room; to the map detailing how his forces were even at that moment working on encircling her city. She reflected on how her people had no more leaders, and she was now likely to be taken captive one way or the other. They were conquered utterly, and she had no options available to her.

Shaking hands got to work. Her dress was proper, kept together with buttons here and there, small ties, little clasps. She undid them one at a time in the pervasive silence of the tent; outside, she could hear the ongoing preparations of war, the day to day of the soldiers as they talked, worked on their equipment. The fabric gave way and drifted off her body, pooling at her feet. She was left in her underthings; little more than smallclothes wrapped around her hips and groin. Quivering, she worked to get them off. It took twice as long as it might normally, given that she was shaking all over, but they finally came loose and she let them fall to her ankles.

"Hands to your sides," the prince commanded, as she moved to cover herself. That stopped her short. Her hands drifted to the outside of her thighs, her eyes closed as she stood nude before them.

Smooth and tight. Her life afforded her many opportunities for exercise, access to good food and frequent activity, and her body showed it. She was soft in all the right places, firm and muscled in others. Her scales were glossy to the point of nearly shimmering, a lighter green along the front of her neck, down her flat chest to her belly, then dipping between the legs where her sex could now be seen by all. It featured soft, round lips that drew into a tight, dark little line between her legs.

"P-please-" she began, but the prince sharply cut her off.

"Silence. You will keep your mouth closed until I have need of it. Turn around."

The harshness of his tone shocked her into silence. Biting her lip and fighting to keep her body from shaking more than it already was, the princess turned in place, facing away from the room of men staring at her naked body. Grunts of approval rolled through the room. She had good egglaying hips, her rump a firm swell under her tail; cheeks thick and well-defined.

"Good," the prince said, his voice barely more than a purr. "You'll do. Turn back around." She obeyed, and he asked, "Are you a virgin?"

It took her a few moments to find her voice. "I-I am."

"Everywhere?"

Her eyes looked up, surprised, for a moment not understanding the question. But of course she did, and she winced, looking away. "Yes."

The prince did not respond. Instead he turned and gestured to a page, who was standing by ogling the naked princess, his trousers clearly tenting in the front. The young male flinched, startled to be singled out, and seemed to remember his task. A couple of the other males chuckled as the youth awkwardly fetched a long, black wooden box, all while negotiating his visible erection. Some of the other males were showing clear signs of interest.

The box was handed to the prince, who placed it down on a nearby table and opened it to reveal various implements the princess vaguely recognized as equipment for prisoners; shackles and straps she recognized, but some of the other implements were more perplexing to her.

"Turn around," the prince ordered, and once again the nude princess turned in place, facing away from him. "Don't move."

Her breath caught as something was placed around her neck. She squirmed, the thick leather tightening just a little; a collar. "Wh-what are-"

She yelped as a harsh slap rang out in the tent. Her rump stung. The slap the prince bounced off her rump left her scaly flesh jiggling and the attendant males chuckling to themselves. "I told you to be silent."

Her arms were grabbed next. She hung her head as she felt thick leather cuffs tightened around her wrists. Her back arched and she strained as he forced her arms to cross behind her back, then pressed them up, so that her wrists crossed nearly between her shoulder blades. It was a ferociously uncomfortable position, made worse when he threaded a short chain through a ring set in the back of her collar, linking to her cuffs; this kept her arms where they were, putting strain on the front of her neck.

"Since you can't keep you mouth shut, we'll just have to silence it before I need it," the prince remarked casually. Her face was grabbed and pinched, her mouth opening by reflex. A short, thick wooden dowel was pushed into her mouth and pulled against the back of her jaw; this was tied off behind her head; she was bridled with a bit, like a horse! Talking was out of the question, her mouth forced to remain open. All she could do was utter animal grunt noises and chew on the thick implacable wood.

Another yelp escaped her as her tail was grabbed and pulled up. A mournful moan followed as it was belted, and the belt affixed to the chain to the back of her collar, keeping her tail lifted behind her so that all had an unobstructed view of her entire backside. Her eyes darted back and forth; it was all happening so fast! Her eye caught a young page, his eyes locked on her naked vagina, crouch in front of her to collect her discarded clothing. Something about watching them be carried away made it all very real to her. She was stark naked, bound and helpless. Everyone was looking at her. A soft whimper escaped past the gag.

"That's a little more proper," The prince said, letting his hand caress down her body. She shivered as it slid over her hip, down to her rump where he caressed her soft flesh there. "Now, I think I'll have your surrender. Spread your feet apart," he commanded, using his own feet to shift her into a wider stance, nudging her under her feet were slightly more than a shoulder's width apart. "Good. Lock your knees, and bend over at the waist. As far as you can go." When she hesitated, looking back at him with eyes wide with shame and terror, he slapped her bare ass hard, drawing a sharp yelp from her. "Next time I spank you it's going to be on your royal little cunt. Bend over!"

Shuddering out a little sob, the defeated princess did as she was told. Slowly and with a little groaning, she bent at the waist. Her arms bound as they were kept her from being as flexible as she might otherwise be able, but it was sufficient to bend at a ninety-degree angle. Her tail, bound to the back of her collar, was pulled up more at the base, revealing her entirely. The prince took a moment to enjoy the view before he stood aside, patting her on her upraised rump. "Soldiers, what do you see?"

"Fresh cunt," grunted one of the older officers, prompting a wave of chuckling. All eyes were fixed on the female's rump; the soft definition of her cheeks. The full view of her tight, virgin sex, the soft scales glinting in the muted light. Under her tail, a clenching, tight little tailhole likely unseen by any eyes, ever, until now. They could see her muscles clenching as she squirmed and roiled with shame, tears squeezing from her eyes.

"Nothing but a naked, presenting bitch," said another.

"Two holes in need of breaking in."

"You all must look beyond the obvious," the prince chuckled, stroking Shesanna's ass, letting his fingers daintily touch at the lips of her sex. "This is conquest." He gestured, and a page was quick to hand him a decanter of oil. He worked his own pants open with his free hand as he spoke. "It's not just about borders and annexations and tributes and all that. At it's most basic, it's about the power I have over them. So much that their princess comes here and I can make her show you her tailhole. I can reduce her to nothing but an animal." He freed his cock. These were soldiers on campaign, nudity was hardly something to be squeamish about among other males. That he was hard as a rock was noteworthy, and until now they could only speculate about the size of their Prince's member - considerable, as it turned out - but he was their liege lord and the conquering hero of their nation. None were in any position to judge.

"Woe unto the vanquished," he mused, tipping the decanter and pouring the oil liberally over his throbbing cock, his eyes on her ass. A stroke or two on his penis and it was a glistening spire, ridged, with a spade-head, arched up and thick; ready to take his prey. He grabbed the base of her tail and angled the decanter to pour the oil over her anus. The princes winced, feeling the slick viscous fluid ooze down between her cheeks, over her bare sex. "Conquest is, I win. My country gets to fuck your country, as hard and deep as I want. And it means I, personally, get to fuck you, literally. It means your only value is how tight and good a fuck you are, 'Princess'."

He grabbed the back of her collar. Stepping behind her, he grunted and jabbed the head of his oiled-up cock right against her pucker. She gasped, shaking her head, but his grip on the collar was tight, choking off some of her air and keeping her where she was. "I bet you never imagined this was the first virginity you would lose, did you, bitch?"

She whined into the gag. A roomful of men watched with tented pants as the head of his cock pressed against her anus. Were she dry, her tight body might have been able to put up some kind of fight. Sloppily oiled, a grunt and a shove of his hips was all that was needed for her anus to open up, the head of his cock forcing its way into that tight ring. Shesanna uttered an animalistic grunt of discomfort, her eyes snapping open wide. It was unlike anything she'd ever felt. Her tailhole lost all its wrinkled texture, stretched into a smooth ring around the shaft of her conqueror as he groaned, sliding himself deep up her now asshole into the core of her royal backside. He went deeper than she thought possible, her eyes rolling up as his cock forced its ways into parts of her body she didn't know existed. Violated in a way she never imagined possible.

"I don't know," the prince breathed, sliding himself in to his root, "if I've ever had a bitch this tight." He ground his hips against her rump, groaning in absolute ecstasy. He drew out halfway, feeling the princess shudder around him; he let go of her hip and used his thumb to pull the front of his trousers down more, legging his heavy, scaly balls hang free. "Better," he grunted, slapping the princess on her rump and grabbing her again, jerking his hips into a deep, lunging series of thrusts.

The tent fell silent, save for the regular slap of his groin against her rump, and the princess' labored grunts, whines, and sobs. Outside, she was dimly aware of some sort of commotion; it felt a thousand miles away. All too present was the thick cock in her backside, her sore tailhole struggling to handle the deep fucking the prince was giving her. His scaly balls slapped her virgin cunt as the Jakkarian prince raped and sodomized the surrendered princess. Her lithe, curvy young body rocked with the thrusts, the leather of her cuffs creaking, the chain binding her rattling softly. She felt him force her innermost walls to part for him, felt the queer fullness. Tears dropped as she could only stand there, bound and naked and bent over like a whore, as the one who would destroy her nation and sovereignty destroyed her innocence as well.

The prince pulled on her collar, lifting her torso a little as his thrusts sped up, his hips clapping her ass cheeks rapidly. She was grunting heavily with every deep push of his cock up into her backside; it felt like he was rearranging her insides. Her fingers clenched and splayed, toes curling, helpless under his assault. He spanked her as he fucked her, and she yelped into the gag. He clearly liked that, and slapped her ass again, thrusting in deep and holding there, grinding against her. She mewled, shaking her head, as the commotion grew outside.

She shrieked into the gag as he started thrusting again, angling himself so that he was thrusting up into her as a sharp angle. Her hips rolled, her ass bouncing as he pounded her up under her tail. The princess was already a mess; drool flecked from her forced-open mouth, and oil squirted a spattered from his enthusiastic rutting of her asshole. "Yeah, let them hear it!" the prince snarled, pulling her into his deep, forceful lunges. "I'm going to fill this tight little royal ass up, you're going to drip me for days!" he declared, and she could feel the head of his cock grow more pronounced and rigid. Shesanna stared straight ahead, her vision swimming with the tears in her eyes. She caught sight of the page from earlier, rapturously watching her rape and rubbing himself through the front of his trousers.

Shesanna closed her eyes and bit into the gag in her mouth. She tried to shut it out, but there was no way to distract herself, nowhere to run to in her mind. she felt every thrust of his cock deep up her ass. She felt the stretch in her anus, the clap of his hips to her ass, the slap of his balls against her oil-slickened slit. She could hear the heavy breathing of the other males in the room as they enjoyed the show. She could hear her own little gasps and mewls, fucked out of her by the prince's brutal and merciless thrusting. The ring of her tailhole started to tingle as her nerves started to fray.

"Take it all!" he roared, thrusting in as deep as he could and holding her there, rolling his hips and grinding his cock inside her while he ejaculated. His member swelled, the head flaring, and he threw his head back with a deep groan of relief. His tail flagged in time with his heavy spurts deep within her, a few days' worth of pent-up seed flooding her bowels and inexorably claiming her in full view of his upper command. Shesanna could only stand there, nearly choking when his grip on her collar tightened with his orgasm. She could feel him filling her, pulse after heavy pulse. She took it as he commanded. She had no choice. She wondered, as she felt him pump hot seed within her defiled undertail, if she would ever have choices again.

The prince pulled her close, hissing in her ear even as his cock continued to unload his seed deep inside. "Nnnngh... King Irithica, and his sons, I slew on the battlefield. I smashed his armies and cast them out in disarray. And now... mngh... I've fucked his last living relative, his only daughter, the princess, up her tight little virgin ass." Pushing her back down into a bent-over posture, he gave her a few parting thrusts before he pulled his softening cock out of her with an audible wet 'pop'. She shuddered, standing bowlegged as her well-fucked ass gushed his seed to the ground and down her legs before that pummeled orifice was able to close back up. "Men, if that's not total victory, then nothing is."

Shesanna stood, her mind nearly blank, her concerns all purely animal. Her tailhole throbbed. She was leaking seed. She was utterly humiliated, and scared that he would now turn the rest of his men on her.

Instead, the tent flaps were opened and she stared wide-eyed as her ladies-in-waiting were ushered in. All were bound much as she was; like her, all were stripped completely naked. They locked eyes with their princess; they noticed the seed running down her leg, her tail bound up, bent over in front of these men. A few of them started screaming into their gags, others doubled over in hopeless sobbing.

"You men enjoy them," The prince remarked, toweling off his now quarter-erect member. Tucking it back into his pants, he smirked. "Compliments of the princess, her final gift for your hard work on this campaign."

The helpless females were grabbed as the prince moved to Shesanna's front. He clipped a short lead to the front of her collar and pulled. The naked princess was forced to follow him, looking back as she saw her friends grabbed and pushed down to the ground or bent over a table, the men choosing their preferred victims, releasing their members from their pants. The tent flaps brushed her face and the hot midday sun made her wince as behind her, she heard her friends - many of whom she'd known since they were mere children - screaming into their gags, the men grunting as the rapes began.

There was no time to dwell on that; the princess found herself stumbling forward toward a crowd of chanting, cheering soldiers. The prince proudly paraded her before them. She cast her eyes to the ground to avoid their stares; the men, long on their campaign, ogled her supple naked body, bound and restrained to allow every inch available to their eyes. Her rapist the prince led her up onto some scaffolding; a platform used for addressing the troops or meting out punishments. She was forced to stand there as he spoke to them, gesturing at her, declaring their total victory. The men roared as he declared they would soon march into the city - her city - to plunder what was left of her kingdom. All she could do was stand there, a broken symbol of her nation's utter defeat.

The speech went on for some time. Gagged and bound, all she could do was stand there and serve as eye candy for the desperately horny soldiers. Idly it occurred to her that the prince need not follow through with any of his promises. The look in the eyes of the soldiers told her all she needed to know about the impending fate of her people.

She was led back to the command tent. Some time had passed. Inside, she could only hear the lingering grunts of the last few males who were finishing up with her ladies-in-waiting. One, collared and leashed like the princess herself, was marched past her into the camp; the girl walked on shaky legs, seed trailing down the inside of her legs and dripping from her face. She did not make eye contact.

The princess was not led back inside. Instead, the prince ordered her tied standing to a post outside. Arms behind the post and collar attached with a short chain, they stationed two guards to prevent anyone from touching her, and she was left there. The prince went inside. A few more rapes later and the last of the generals and commanders exited, leading the shivering and ravished bodies of the girls behind them, some barely capable of walking. All collared, all leashed, the generals having apparently taken them as gifts from their prince. Soldiers came and went all over the busy camp, and Shesanna shivered under their hungry stares. In time, she was watered, a soldier pulling her gag out to force mouthfuls of water into her coughing gullet before the gag was strapped back in.

Time passed. A feast was thrown inside, the guests smirking at the aching, suffering princess as they entered the tent; they drank and made merry while outside, the princess begged through her gag to the soldiers guarding her. They ignored her. Her begging grew more and more desperate until, with no other options, she shamefully spread her legs as wide as she could and made water right where she was standing. One of the guards turned his head and snickered; Shesanna merely sobbed.

Night fell, the feastgoers dispersed. When the prince finally returned to Shesanna; the princess was barely hanging on, her legs shaking, body shivering. The prince ordered his soldiers to unbind her and lead her inside. She was half-dragged through the tent, to a smaller, inner chamber where the prince apparently made his bed. There she was hogtied, her wrists bound to her ankles and legs bound in a tightly bent position, leaving her to lay helpless on her chest. Her collar was chained to the Prince's bedpost. She lay there, face flat on the ground, immobile as the prince stared down at her, grinning menacingly.

"You have a big day tomorrow, princess," he said. And that was all. He climbed into bed, and Shesanna was left to make whatever she could out of the rest of the night, bound tightly and helpless as her rapist contentedly snored. She knew what he'd meant; what was in store for her.

She was going to be the centerpiece of his Triumph.