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“Barely had the conflict with that Nox finished, she's scampering away. And Father still protects her."

“He has a fondness for her. But he counts on you to do what's necessary in a time of crisis."

“And that's what I plan to do. Father cannot handle this, I shall."

“Wait, Prince Armand. What do you- you wouldn't?"

“Yes, I would, Suet. If my Father cannot fulfill that duty, I am the only one left. It is prepared. I am ready."

With a harrumph, Prince Armand Sheran Sharm pushed the door to his private quarters, attended to by one of his personal guards. Suet, much like most of the soldiers of his age, was a stoic Sadida with a darker skin peppered by many scars he'd earned fighting for the Kingdom. His face was covered by a tuft of green hair going to its autumn with slight strands here and there, but he remained impressive with his dry musculature, his rigid exterior, and the hair peppering his exposed chest… No, his entire body, except for his leafy loincloth adorned with blue flowers, indicating his purpose.

However, as the Guard followed with his spear thumping on the wooden floor, Suet was surprised to see more of his peers standing at the ready inside Prince Armand's quarters, inside the chamber dug into one of the tallest trees of the Kingdom.

Contrary to Suet, they looked confident even though they contrasted with the relatively quaint and ornate room, unaware of the martial looks they brought to the place, covered in fabrics from the Cra allies. The air was potent with floral scent, more so as Suet approached, flanking Levêche, Simoun, and Sirocco. All four formed Armand's royal guard, all four who had been in the Prince's presence ever since he was introduced to the court and assigned his men.

In a way, they were as much his guards as confidants, a presence the Prince always valued.

However, to have all four men at the ready and around was a grim vision for Suet. And Armand himself was stoic as he advanced, watching the four men who looked similar yet distinct, before he turned to a flower, with red and white petals, planted in the middle of his room only hours ago.

It hadn't bloomed yet: the petals were closed and formed a distinct oblong shape. But so was distinct the musky fragrance from the flower as Armand stroked it, the hand on the soft petals. And for once, it was Levêche who spoke up instead of Suet. Fatter, with a pot belly covered with a happy trail, Levêche had been more roughed up by conflicts, enough to have one eye covered by a flower patch. But he was the voice of peace and reason among the guards.

“Prince. You shouldn't do this. Maybe we ought to do this instead."

“No. Only the royal family can do this. Our union with the Tree of Life is necessary for this ritual," said Armand, closing his eyes. Then, he started to undo his bracers, throwing them aside while the guards remained close… “But I count on you to be there to help me. My Father shouldn't intervene, and once it is done… Once our armies are restored, you have to pull me back."

Suet frowned. But only him. The other three nodded and dropped their spears on the nearest table, leaving Suet with the option to leave or help. It was a non-choice as he put the spear aside, too, and followed his fellows' example, undoing the leafy loincloths protecting them until everyone was naked… Armand among them.

Contrary to the guards, the Prince was fit and thin, his muscles developed but without the fine layer of fat years tended to offer to the men even as they were working days and nights. Suet could attest to this, even as he was the most muscular of the four. And Simoun, at the opposite end, was ventripotent with sizeable moobs dropping on his belly. But they were soldiers, fit… Sturdy. And though they had no inclination toward masculinity like the Iops, all four royal guards were… Well-endowed.

Hairy, uncut, with varied lengths and widths. Armand? He stood in the middle, not only in terms of genitalia but between all four guards as he remained by the bloom and inhaled.

“I am ready."

Mere words. But everyone shuddered as the bloom opened in wet schlick, revealing the petals were only a cover for a plant that looked almost predatory with the many vines concealed inside. As soon as those vines overextended, they rushed to go to Armand. The soldiers winced, Sirocco nearly jumped. But they stood still as they watched the vines wrap around Armand's legs, climbing and crawling upward to feel the Sadida's body.

The tendrils were over the strong hamstrings, the thick thighs, the defined abdominal waist, the powerful pectorals, the square shoulders, and the powerful arms. And with a powerful yank, they forced Armand to drop… And sit on them, the tendrils forming a makeshift seat for the Prince while he was surrounded by his men, inching closer.

Suet remained in the distance… But Levêche was the first to approach, followed by Sirocco, who seemed already eager. Blood ran to the second Sadida's erection, leading his cock to go from a respectable half-mast to a chubby and short-than-expected cock. One whose uncut foreskin peeled off to reveal the dark-red end that was already pointing to Prince Armand, the tip coated with translucent precum, with an aroma that was strong… If not stronger than the Prince's reputed breath.

If only people knew its origin.

“Thank you, Sirocco," mumbled Armand as he leaned forward to kiss the Guard's cock. At the same time, his right hand went to stroke Levêche's low-hanging testicles, grasping and clutching those hairy and sweaty “fruits" while the plant continued to clamber over Armand's body and froze. It was ready.

The Vénérienne was a type of plant rightfully frightening. Left alone, it would latch onto a living being and turn them into a pod factory, a sort of zombie that would lay its seed across the Kingdom.

A scourge that had since been contained and twisted to fulfill a better purpose. As the tendrils ran over Armand's genitals, they started to pull on it, to have one vine twist and coil around the Sadida's scrotum, only to pull it down… Further down until the skin was snug around the testicles, and the Prince himself groaned from the pain. Yet, it was only the beginning as the tendrils were running over Armand's body, rushing to tease most spots.

The soft ends brushed his face, nose, ears, chest, belly, and posterior, which were spread and forced open, revealing the tight but not untouched orifice.

The entrance was warm… But warmer were the tendrils, coated in fluids, as they rubbed and pressed against the orifice before… It caved in and Armand moaned, letting go of Sirocco's cocktip to attend to Simoun's, whose cock was the lengthiest by far but not as wide. Armand rushed, opening his mouth wide while he inserted more than two inches inside, gagging himself to silence his cries as the tendrils wiggled against his asshole.

“Should we stop?" asked Suet, unsure. Yet, erect. He watched his Prince's erection getting stroked and rubbed by the plants. He observed how one of the tentacles, the thinnest, rubbed against the Prince's glans, coating the tip with fluids… And approached the urethra with a purpose echoed by the tendrils going over the chest, the nipples, the Prince's ears… And then more.

“HRMPH!"

The muffled cry was enough. One cry, the Prince would continue. He even taped Levêche's scrotum thrice, indicating his willingness to continue as Suet approached, forming a close circle around the Prince… Letting him smell the musky aroma of men at work around him. His loud inhalations completed the movements from the plants as one sharp spike pierced through the Prince's right nipple, then the left, before the tendril started to bloat, and something oozed from the spike. It oozed and then was injected into Armand's nipples as the liquid, like goo, seeped into any potential hole. The same ooze was inside his asshole, over the nose as the tendrils ran against it… And even Armand's ears.

Suet still shuddered, knowing what the Vénérienne would do. It would turn the Prince's body into the perfect broodwhore for the Kingdom.

Once it was settled, the Prince would be communing with the Tree of Life, becoming a vessel of life and birth while his mind would be away.

But sure as hell, the effect looked grim as Armand grunted and moaned, feeling the tendrils wiggle against his ear, pressing, pushing, digging. He moaned, groaned, even tried to cry despite the shaft going through his mouth, gagging him.

And then it stopped.

Silence.

For a moment, Suet was afraid, but Armand's hands still moved to play with Levêche's genitals, and the faint sound of suction from Armand's mouth was louder than the one from the tendrils going inside his orifices. And then… Armand pulled his lips away.

“I… Feel it. It's here… I'm feeling, daddies," he said with the eeriest and calmest voice Suet had heard.

The Guard blinked, glanced at his fellow, then back at his Prince: “Armand, are you ok?"

“Yes. I am… At peace. Suet. Come. Come closer, so I can love you, too, Daddy."

None were surprised. Suet himself approached, knowing the Vénérienne could impact someone's mind but never force feelings. What Armand said was the truth, his inner desires. Even though the Prince had been distant, his Guards always worked tirelessly to make him feel appreciated, yearned, desired.

Even now as their cocks were hard and Suet approached. The distance to the tip narrowed untilArmand smiled and kissed that cock. Gave it a long, powerful, kiss. The wiggling inside his ears seemed to have stopped, but not the oozing liquid as it continued to drench Armand's ears and hair… But as the Sadida relaxed, he shivered for a moment as the tendrils going in his nipples wiggled in return, slipped further inside, and started to bulge beneath the skin. For a moment, their sickly roots were visible before those roots bloated… And finally, so did the skin itself, so did the pectorals, as fat and fluids lessened the vascularities, erased them.

Most parts of Armand's anatomy were overtaken, even his hidden nose as a pair of tendrils rushed inside his face tuft, but without provoking any displeasure, any change as Armand released Suet's cock, his hands still on Levêche but also playing with Sirocco.

There was a sigh and Armand kissed Suet's cock, giving it one token of affection with a grin. The largest and most surprising smile split Armand's face.

“Please, Daddies. I want your children first. I want your cocks inside me. I want… To be your bitch."

The pleading voice was toneless. But none were frightened by it. Instead there was a mix of resolution and desire, of conviction as the men stripped their doubts away for the purpose Armand gave them and approached, stroking their Prince's head, digging into his hair, while they rubbed their cocks against his face.

Taking turns, Armand was kissing and licking and sucking. But he only had one mouth, and in return, fat globs of precum were pressed against his face, coating his tuft, drenching the green hair. Still, his lips extended to meet with each organ and spire, whether its size, width, or length. He kissed them, loved them, loved his guards the same. And as he began to impale his face on Simoun's cock, gargling and gurgling, another wet sound echoed in the room.

Armand's asshole clenched, but the tendrils inside it were too brutal. They lashed out inside his orifice while the suction noise came from the desperate clenching and the purple liquid dripping from Armand's entrance. More and more of that substance was pumped inside him, ravishing his body and reshaping it to be a perfect breeding tool.

The same substance that was pumped inside his breasts, breasts that were starting to fatten and sag down, the skin outstretched and yet devoid of any marks. Soon enough, the pectorals took a rotund shape. The nipples and areolas themselves were changing, growing, too. The areolas in width, the nipples in length… And though none of the guards had any predilection towards Sadida women, they were impressed by the view of Armand's blossoming bosoms.

They were amazed to see Armand's perfect waistline, without fat, widening, and stretching. The abdominal muscles, so defined, were quickly erased. From a chiseled form, they were lessened by the liquid pressing inside and the guts pushing forward. The lower belly had been the first to protrude, but soon, Armand's entire guts, even the sides, were pushing in all directions, giving him an almost inflated look.

Inflated, round, almost ready to burst.

But it was not the only detail that had changed.

Armand showed no signs of pain, but none of the Guards could have denied feeling an instance of commiserating pain when their eyes drifted onto their prince's genitals. The urethra had been outstretched, abused by the plant. The tendrils, one at first, were rushing inside like wiggling worms, splitting the urethra open and making it bulge on the erect cock's underside. However, as they met with the groin, they seemed to go on a rampage. None of the four could see the erection anymore, but they once saw the urethra and bladder bulge from those creeping vines.

At that instant? They could only see the testes.

The scrotum had been riddled with those tendrils, creeping in all directions like veins or roots implanting inside. But soon, just like those roots inside Armand's breasts, they vanished as the scrotum began to outstretch. No. As the testicles inside were bloating from the fluids. So many changes, so many modifications, Suet and the others were witnessing as their Prince went from a perfect picture of a worthy man to… Something that was whorish, unsightly.

They were the witnesses of their Prince's reshaping, earning those moobs, that round belly, those swollen genitals… Of his undoing, as his traits were softened by the tendrils surely reaching for what was inside his skull.

Suet shuddered. Maybe the others did. But he was the most visible as he had his Prince rubbing his face against their sweaty scrotums, licking them.

“He is gone," mumbled Suet.

“Until we liberate him. But it was his desire. We need someone to bear an army. He will do," said Levêche, passing a hand on Suet's shoulders.

Echoed then by Sirocco's hand: “Don't worry, we'll keep him around. Plus, don't say you don't like how our Prince turns out."

No, Suet wouldn't as he had his cock pressed against the Prince's lips, before said Prince took the entire length with one swoop, not even gargling and gagging one second. A wondrous exploit that made the guard groan and moan while he turned his head toward Levêche, leaning forward and… Kissing his partner. Their mouths tangled, Suet's hands rushed to Levêche's hairy pectorals to stroke it while he felt Sirocco's hands going on his backside, rubbing it.

“When the plant's done, I want to be the first to fuck his cunt!" stated Simoun.

“Hah! Sure! He'll have all ours, though. Our cocks are ready for our Prince!"

A light chuckle emanated from Sirocco, echoed by Levêche and Suet as they were letting their Prince suck and worship them. Armand's hands had since moved from Levêche to explore his “Daddies"'s thighs, genitals, groin… He passed over their lower bellies, even sometimes brushing the sweaty pubes before he returned.

And in a way, Suet could admit his Prince looked way happier that way, fulfilled. And filled.

Then, with another sucking noise, wet and drippy, the tentacles and vines retreated. They pulled free, they yanked away… They slithered out of all entrances they left gaping, needy, and dripping. Except for Armand's nose and ears. Those parts remained hooked to him as the Prince finally let go of the Guards' body to reach between his asscheeks.

The purple liquid dripped from the agape entrance, from the rim that had swollen and been reshaped… And with only two fingers inside, Armand pulled on the hole enough to expose an entrance wide enough to take a fist.

“Hah… My… Men. My cunt is ready. Breed me. I need it so badly!"

The eyes turned to Simoun, who chuckled: “Don't mind if I do."

And so, the orders of men surrounding Armand changed, and so did the tentacles.

With one mental order from the guard, the tentacles bolstering Armand's reshaped body moved. They ran over his spine, bore his shifting weight until the Prince was on his back, almost lying in the air. More tendrils ran along his legs to spread them, pulling on the ankles to keep them apart.

And more went along Armand's belly to push it aside. A portion even went on Armand's scrotum, lifting the grapefruit-sized testicles to keep them out of the way… And therefore hiding Armand's cock, too.

But it didn't matter. Not for the men who were masturbating as they stepped around, Simoun going directly for the back-entrance to cup it, to feel those fattened cheeks, and slip one thumb inside Armand's orifice. The Prince didn't even wince.

Two fingers? He moaned. Four? He sighed. And a fist? He begged.

“Daddy! Don't fist me! I need your cum first! Then! Then, you play with my cunt!"

“He is still authoritative. I think our Prince needs his favorite cocks to stay quiet," chortled Sirocco, smacking his tip against Armand's upside-down face. “What do you say? You want it bad, don't you?"

“Yes! Daddy! Use my throat, too! I'll lube-Grgll!"

“You know, I sometimes think he loves hearing his voice too much. No?"

Levêche shook his head, still masturbating and going near Armand's hand, Suet going for the other. Delicately, they led their Prince's hands to grab their shafts and use his precum-coated palms to stroke and masturbate, leaving the two groaning and sighing in delight.

But it was not done. Far from it. In fact, the Prince seemed insatiable when he opened his mouth to allow Sirocco's shaft inside it, opening so wide it would have hurt. But Armand showed no sign of pain while that fat tip slipped inside his mouth, pressed against his tongue, narrowly teased the teeth… And then, fully entered the Prince's mouth, keeping him gagging and gargling as his tongue rolled against the skin.

Steadily, but fast enough to be deemed brutal, Sirocco punched deep inside the Prince's throat and everyone, even Simoun, could see the throat bulging due to Sirocco's cock as he held onto his Prince's jaw, keeping Armand steady while fucking that mouth.

“Hmm… Yeah. Let's give you another load. It might give you a bad breath, Prince, but you don't mind? Right?" laughed Sirocco.

“You can be such a pervert," commented Suet, shaking his head.

“It is a play they have with the Prince. You know, like when he had to keep it all inside. Remember?"

Oh yes, they remembered that day when Amalia returned. That day, they not only fucked the Prince but forced him to keep their loads inside until he was twisting and groaning, frustrated, on the throne while his Father was busy meditating.

Nevertheless, it had been a good moment, and the four chuckled.

Even Simoun whose fingers were still wiggling inside the Prince's asshole, stretching and playing with the velvety walls that were no only clean but self-lubricating. A wonder the Guard was not to deny as he inhaled, yanking his hand free with all the fluids sticking to it. He wiped it against Armand's legs, then he held onto the Prince's hamstrings. Simoun had that devious grin while he rubbed his cocktip against the Prince's entrance. His heavy testicles were even pressed against that fat ass while the tip slipped between the buns, spreading them… And eliciting a moan from Armand.

“Oh yes, Prince. Daddy is about to breed your cunt. You'll have an entire army in you," laughed Simoun, eager to aggravate Armand as his tip brushed the entrance and then… Slipped in.

A moan, a muffled cry, and the Prince seemed to relax.

Not his grip. Not his mouth.

The former was hard and powerful, double as Armand had his Guards' shafts in his palms, spurting and drenching the dark skin with precum. However, as he moved his fingers, tightened them around the shaft, Levêche and Suet were quick to moan and… Tremble.

Their legs planted on the floor, they were already so eager and needy, their precum was already white, thick, and reeking of masculine musk while the droplets ran over Armand's wrists and digits.

The latter, Armand's mouth, was thinly closed and tried to apply the most suction on Sirocco's shaft. The guard was eager, punching and thrusting Armand's throat until his cock seemed to vanish and reappear successively during the same minute. The gargling, the gagging, the gurgling, they were forming a loud concert amidst the, on other occasions, silent room. The placid atmosphere was one filled with Armand's muffled beggings and moans while his asshole was getting stuffed and smacked by Simoun's groin.

Yet, Armand's torment… or pleasure was only in its infancy. As Levêche and Suet were groaning and grunting, Levêche's calloused hands descended along the Prince's arm. The digits ran along the biceps, the triceps, the collarbone, then to those reshaped pectorals that looked heavy and filled underneath the probing touch. A probing touch that was quick to press against the fatty skin until it gave way. But the closer to the nipple, the softer was the flesh, the more engorged it was.

Until with a mere poke, Levêche felt the insides were sloshing with fluid, dense fluid.

“Help me. Our Prince is full, Suet," said Levêche, snapping his Partner back to reality so they could lean forward, massage, touch, and press on the Prince's heavy breasts.

They pressed against it, had their digits digging against the dark tones of the areolas until… Came the first drip. It was purplish, unnatural, viscous, like it had started to settle. It was a liquid that ought not to be inside a body unless injected.

But as the massage continued, much to Armand's muffled pleasure, the purplish liquid turned whiter. That purple substance was getting diluted, more and more. The nuances were gone, the white overtook it all… And in return, a cloying scent filled the room as the Guards picked a droplet of fluid with their fingertips and pressed it against their mouths, finding that the milk was lukewarm, palatable, and tempting.

“You're already producing so much milk for your Daddies, Armand. You should be proud of yourself," butted in Sirocco, leaning in forward to sample the milk, too. “You'll be a perfect broodwhore!"

All the while, Sirocco continued to hump and pump, showing off his stamina and control he had. One that was incomparable to the rest, mostly Levêche, who often shot the first. However, this time, it wasn't Levêche's turn to shoot first.

The Prince's grip was firm and pressing, with the fingers digging into all the right places, into the softest spots until the Guards felt like they were about to burst. But it was Simoun who stood on the verge of cumming.

He grunted, closed his eyelids, clenched his jaw. All over the Guard was written the pleasure of fucking his Prince's asshole, of sensing that fat rim, swollen and controlled, sucking on him like some prostitute's lips. There was no end to it, no cease in the constant pressure he experienced all over his length, from the tip to the base.

Simoun's smackings on the prostate were growing erratic and intense, his legs trembling and tensing much like the rest of his body. And then, as the situation was growing tense, all too intense, Simoun gritted his teeth, bit his lips, and… Groaned.

“Fuck yeah! Take my kids, Prince! Daddy's babes!" shouted the Sadida, his fingers digging deeper into Armand's hamstring while he kept pumping and shooting. His semen was shot all inside that hole, hitting and covering the inner walls in white, only then for Simoun to keep churning and pumping. His cock was going softer by the second, but he was making every second of it.

And soon, his pumping abated, so was the suckling sound from the Prince's “cunt" as the Guard eased, stopped… Sighed, and patted Armand's swollen guts.

“Ah, yeah. Doll blessed. That… Was. Good. You should… Try our Prince's hole, guys. It's the best!"

Simoun said that with a stupid grin, still going for a brutal smack on the Prince's fat posterior before he pulled back. In an instant, the Prince's asshole clenched to grip Simoun's cock. But since the Guard had gone soft, nothing could restrain him as he slipped free… Therefore allowing a little rivulet of cum to rush free.

“Who's next?"

“Heh. I'll do. You take the mouth next, Levêche?"

“Aye. Sirocco?"

“Almost done, guy… Gimme that moment," grumbled the Guard, still at it in Armand's mouth.

The Prince's lips were delicate and perfect, so was that throat Sirocco punched through without giving himself a break. But steadily, his resistance eroded, and so did his stamina. Whenever that throat clenched, it managed to steal a groan from Sirocco. And quickly, the Guard retreated his grubby fingers from Armand's chest to instead hold onto his jaw and shoulder while pumping, hitting, and smacking his sweaty balls on the Prince's face until…

Until Sirocco grunted and sighed, his body covered with sweat as he finally let go.

The legs shivered, the feet nearly slipped, the hands dropped free… And Armand's throat bulge from the added cum until the Prince swallowed it. He was allowed to rest and inhale when Sirocco pulled free, with strands of saliva and cum still sticking to the Sadida's shaft.

It was done, Sirocco came. And the Guard stepped back, accepting Simoun's waterskin to take a drink.

“Fuck… That mouth is golden, it's like it's gripping me."

“Like his cunt. He looks insatiable, too," completed Simoun, inhaling and watching Levêche take Sirocco's spot. As for Suet, he was already at it.

“Fuck… And we'll have to do that daily?"

“Every day. Without a break."

It was true. The Vénérienne allowed someone to become a broodwhore, but feeding them anything was difficult. In that situation, the best option was to force-fed the victim with cum. Maybe it would be smarter to have more guards around. But it wouldn't be the Prince's wishes.

So, the guards looked at their duty gargling and sucking, swallowing Levêche's cock while Suet was taking the backside.

“Well. At least, it will be some fun days," commented Sirocco.

A thought Suet wasn't sharing entirely, still having lingering doubts about the situation. But it was far better for him to go along the flow and let the others have their fun. It was not always they could fuck the Prince, tease him out loud, or have him for themselves.

In a way, it was an honor they had all been picked to be the first of a new generation. And they were certain they could free their Prince one day, once the Kingdom's numbers had been restored.

For the moment, however, it was their duty to breed and fuck the Prince, to keep him fed with cum… And to fill his ass as much as possible. After all, he was round… But the Prince was to go rounder as an army would grow inside.

And as Levêche already blew his load inside Armand's mouth, and Suet was close to, they knew Armand was the most fertile bitch in the Kingdom.

---

“How is the Prince doing?" asked Levêche, scratching his neck and yawning. It was his turn, though he took his time to cross through the threshold to the Prince's quarters. He stretched his arms, scratched his pecs while he listened to the distant gargles and moans.

They kept the lies for two more months before a Guard finally barged in and interrupted them, Nordet. Followed soon by his Brother Noroît who was eager, too, to enjoy the Prince's pussy.

The two elderly Sadida, their tufts gone orange with autumnal leaves, could have been part of Armand's royal guard, but they never showed sign of interest before those days.

Yet, they were fucking with as much eagerness as the others, they were good additions.

Additions, the Prince didn't mind when, in an instant of doubt, they pulled his mind from his communion to see if he was willing for more to join.

Armand accepted, eager, and soon… Well, Armand's quarters might have been compared to the Palace's private brothel.

Right now, nobody was using Armand's asshole so Levêche lazily undid his loincloth and went at it, stroking himself before he had his cocktip delving inside the Prince's orifice, finding the entrance lubricated with all the other ejaculations of the day and tight as on the first day.

It was perfect. The Vénérienne handled everything from the cleaning to keeping Armand's asshole tight for them. It was almost a shame they couldn't keep him that way, for Armand and themselves.

But as Levêche groaned, fucked, and patted his Prince's belly, he smiled. The vines were more numerous by the day to bolster that belly. And that skin, so stretched, was often kicked from within by the little Sadidas waiting to come.

“You know… Maybe we could ask the Prince to extend his time in the Vénérienne," said Sirocco, his tone unsure as he was getting stroked by those dexterous hands.

“Like… For more soldiers?"

“More like, to improve the Palace's mood. It's not like his Father will leave us, he's healthy… Plus, if needs be… We already have a royal progeny."

“Hmm. Maybe we could talk to him. I am sure he might consider the idea. After all, he looks much happier," said Levêche, watching their Prince eagerly sucking on another man's cock, taking another meal for the day.

Maybe, it would be best to keep him that way. For the Sadida Kingdom and its future.