Chapter 1: The Runt’s Awakening

Reinhard von Eisenmark prowled the shadowed corridors of Eisenstadt Palace, his boots whispering over the polished marble like a predator’s pads. The ache in his cock had been building all evening, a throbbing demand that no amount of stroking in his chambers could fully sate. The eighteen-year-old prince rubbed the bulge through his tight leather breeches, feeling the thick length twitch under his palm: his proudest possession, ten inches of pure Aryan superiority straining against the confines. Overlooked, he seethed inwardly, me, the only one with the true blood of the old Blutreich coursing through my veins.

His brothers, Crown Prince Albrecht with his simpering justice and Konrad with his pathetic armies, were favored, while he, the runt in stature at three feet and eleven inches tall, but giant in destiny in his own mind, was tossed a barren barony like scraps to a dog. His ice-blue eyes burned with resentment. He should be the one on the Eisen Throne, not his weak-willed father who prayed to atone for the glory of their ancestors. The old Blutreich, the Blood Empire of the ancient Aryans, had once ruled a continent with blood and iron. Reinhard swore he would reclaim that legacy, starting with the conquests that mattered most: pliant flesh beneath him, submitting to his cock and his seed.

The palace was quiet this late, the Royal family retired, the guards posted at distant entrances. Reinhard knew every hidden alcove, every servants’ passage where a girl might be caught alone. His hand pressed harder against his aching cock, outlining the veined shaft as he turned into a side wing.

There, in a small sitting room lit by a single flickering lantern, he spied her, a new chambermaid, fresh-faced and pretty, perhaps eighteen by the look of her. She was dusting a side table, her simple gray uniform hugging a slender frame, her dark hair cascading down her back. Pale skin. Not pure enough for his tastes, but still, her wide eyes and full lips promised a tight, virgin warmth that made his mouth water. She bent slightly to reach a lower shelf, her skirt riding up to reveal the curve of her calves. Perfect. Untouched. His to break.

He slipped into the room like a shadow, his small stature aiding the stealth, and closed the only door behind him with a firm click that echoed in the silence.

The girl startled, straightening up with a gasp, her dusting cloth clutched to her chest. “Oh! Your H-highness,” she stammered, curtsying awkwardly, her cheeks flushing pink. “I ... I didn’t see you there. Is there something you need?”

Reinhard smiled, a predator’s grin that didn’t reach his cold eyes. He stepped closer, letting his gaze roam over her body openly, lingering on the swell of her breasts beneath the uniform. “Need? Yes, little one,” he chuckled, even though she was over a foot taller than him. “I need to admire something appealing in this dreary palace.” His voice was smooth, laced with false charm, but his cock stirred at her nervousness, swelling harder against his breeches.

He reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face with his fingers, feeling her tremble at the touch. She shrank back slightly, her eyes darting to the door, then back to him. “Th-thank you, Your Highness. You’re too kind. I should finish my duties...”

“Nonsense,” he murmured, his hand lingering, trailing down to her shoulder, squeezing gently but firmly. “There will be time for cleaning later. You’re new here, aren’t you? What’s your name, you sexy little thing?”

“Elsa, Your Highness,” she whispered, her voice shy, not meeting his gaze. She twisted the cloth in her hands, clearly uncomfortable, but too afraid to pull away from a prince. “F-from the lower city. This is my first week serving in the palace.”

“Elsa,” he repeated, savoring the name like a conquest. His other hand raised to her other shoulder, both thumbs slowly circling the fabric over her collarbones. She was warm, soft, and her shyness only fueled his arousal: the way her breath hitched, the subtle shift in her hips, an attempt to create distance that he ignored. “Such a delicate flower in this stone garden. Tell me, Elsa, do you know who I am?”

“Y-you’re P-prince Reinhard,” she said quickly, nodding, her eyes wide with a mix of awe and fear. “The king’s youngest son.”

“The king’s pure son,” he corrected, his voice dropping lower, one hand sliding down her arm to her waist, pulling her an inch closer. She stiffened, her body rigid, but didn’t resist outright, not yet. Good. He loved the slow unraveling. “The one who carries the blood of the ancient Aryan kings unbroken. And you ... you’re here to serve, aren’t you? To make the palace pleasing.”

“Um ... Yes, Your Highness,” she murmured, her cheeks burning now, trying to step back but finding an end-table behind her. “I dust and clean...”

“And please your betters,” he added, his fingers digging into her waist, feeling the give of her flesh. His ten-inch cock ached fiercely now, the head pressing insistently against his breeches, a damp spot forming from the pre-cum leaking at her reluctance. This is my right, he thought, the ancient words echoing in his mind. The lords of the old Blutreich took what they desired from the Untermenschen, the subhuman scum. I am the inheritor, the Führer in waiting. Her pussy will be mine to plunder, her body a vessel for my superior seed.

He leaned in, his breath hot on her neck as he nuzzled her hair, inhaling her clean, soapy scent mixed with fear-sweat. “You’re trembling, Elsa. Afraid of a little attention from your prince?” His hand slipped lower, cupping her ass through the skirt, squeezing the firm cheek. She gasped, her hands coming up to his chest, not pushing hard, but a token resistance born of instinct.

“Please, Your Highness,” she whispered, her voice quavering, eyes pleading as she finally looked up at him. “I don’t ... I mean, I’m just a maid. This isn’t proper.”

“Proper?” He chuckled darkly, his free hand capturing one of hers and guiding it to the bulge in his breeches. She yanked back at first, but he held firm, forcing her palm against the throbbing heat. “Feel that, girl. That’s the scepter of your rightful king. It’s only proper that you worship it.” Her fingers brushed the outline involuntarily, and she whimpered, trying to pull away, but he pressed harder, making her feel every inch. He knew he was a runt in physical stature, not even four feet tall, but his cock was a gift from the gods, a weapon of pleasure and conquest. Ten inches of throbbing, vein-covered thickness. Reinhard knew no greater enjoyment in his young life than making some bitch submit to his cock, willingly or ... especially unwillingly.

Her face crumpled in distress, tears welling in her green eyes. “No, please ... I have a sweetheart in the town. His name’s Colin,” she hurried. “He’s a baker’s apprentice. We haven’t even ... I mean, I’m saving myself!”

Reinhard’s cock jumped at her words, the confession of virginity like blood to a shark. Saving herself? For a commoner? He mused silently, Foolish slut. Her cunt belongs to Aryan blood, to be stretched and filled by the legacy of the Schwarze Sonne, the Black Sun cabal of the ancient Blutreich.

Aloud, he taunted, “A sweetheart? How quaint. But he’s not here, is he? And I’m a prince. Your body serves the crown, Elsa. Now, be a good girl and relax.” He pushed her back against the table, his body pinning hers, his mouth clamping onto her upper chest in wet, possessive kisses. She squirmed, her hands pushing weakly at his shoulders, but her weak feminine strength was nothing against him. He was small, but he was strong.

“Stop ... please, Your Highness, someone might come...” she protested, trying to squirm from his grip

“No one will come,” he growled, rising to his tiptoes, nipping her earlobe hard enough to make her yelp. His hands roamed freely now, one hiking up her skirt to caress her thigh, feeling the smooth skin and the quiver of her soft flesh. The other yanked at the laces of her bodice, loosening it until her breasts spilled partially free, nipples hardening in the cool air despite her fear. “Look at these tits. Ripe for a man’s hands. Specifically, mine.”

Elsa sobbed softly, turning her head away, but he grabbed her chin, forcing her to face him. “Eyes on me, whore. Feel what your shyness does to me.” He ground his hips against her, letting her feel the full hardness of his cock, the way it pulsed with need.

Her unwillingness was exquisite: tears tracking down her cheeks, lips trembling as she begged in whispers. “I don’t want this,” she cried quietly, her voice breaking. “Please, let me go. I’ll say nothing, I swear.”

“Let you go?” He laughed, his fingers pinching a nipple, twisting until she arched in pain. “And waste this pretty mouth, this sexy body? No, Elsa. You’re going to learn your place.” He stepped back slightly, just enough to unlace his breeches with one hand, the other still tangled in her hair. His cock sprang free, massive and veined, the head glistening with pre-cum. It was ten inches of pale, throbbing, rigid flesh that made her eyes widen in horror. Reinhard loved the reaction his cock got from girls like Elsa, obscenely large on his sub-four-foot frame.

“Gods, no,” she whimpered, trying to twist away, but he held her firm by her hair, yanking her down to her knees on the rug. The door was closed and latched from the inside, the room theirs alone. “It’s too big ... I can’t...”

“You will,” he commanded, stroking himself slowly in front of her face, the scent of his arousal filling the air. This is dominion, he thought, reveling in her resistance. The Blutreich would approve. Breaking the weak to satisfy the strong. “Open your mouth, Elsa. Or I’ll make this hurt more.”

She shook her head, lips pressed tight, tears streaming. “Please ... don’t make me...”

Reinhard slapped her cheek lightly, not hard enough to bruise, but enough to sting and assert control. “Open.” Sobbing, she parted her lips, and he pushed the head in, groaning at the wet heat. She gagged immediately, her hands pushing weakly at his thighs, but he thrust deeper, savoring the choke, the way her throat convulsed around him.

“That’s it, choke on your prince’s cock,” he taunted, holding her head with both hands now, fucking her mouth in slow, deliberate strokes. Her discomfort was his ecstasy, muffled whimpers, saliva dripping down her chin, eyes bulging as he forced more in.

He drew it out, inch by inch, building the violation as his spit-covered shaft slipped from her lips, bobbing freely in front of her pretty face. First, he traced the head along her lips, smearing his thick white pre-cum like war paint. “Lick it, slut. Taste Aryan superiority.” She hesitated, and he pinched her nose shut until she gasped, then shoved in again. Her tongue flicked unwillingly, and he moaned, pushing to the back of her throat. She retched, body heaving, but he didn’t relent, pulling back only to plunge in again, deeper.

“Look at you, gagging like a proper whore,” he sneered, one hand fisting her hair tighter. “Your pathetic Colin could never fill you like this. This is what pure blood does, claims every part of you.” He mused inwardly on the secret chronicles of the Blutreich and the Blutzauber, the ancient blood magic that demanded sacrifice. Her tears are my offering, her submission my power.

Elsa clawed at his legs, her nails scraping the leather breeches, but it only spurred him. He fucked her mouth faster now, the wet slurps filling the room, her choking sounds music to his ears. Deeper, holding her nose to force her to take it all, watching her face turn red, her blue veins popping out of her skin as she struggled for air.

He pounded deeper still, until his balls slapped her chin, her throat bulging with his girth. He held her there, grinding, delighting in the panic in her eyes, the way her body went limp in surrender. Mine, he thought. The empire begins here, in her ruined mouth. He pulled back for a breath, strings of saliva connecting her lips to his raging cockhead, then slammed in again, both hands on her head, fucking her face with abandon, chasing the building pressure in his balls.

She choked violently, her hands slapping futilely at his thighs, nails digging into the leather as her face turned a deeper shade of crimson. Saliva bubbled from the corners of her stretched lips, dripping in thick strands onto the rug below. He growled low in his chest, a primal sound of dominance, holding her impaled until her eyes rolled back and her body spasmed in desperation for air.

“Choke on it, you worthless slut,” he snarled, his ice-blue eyes gleaming with cruel delight. “This is what your kind of peasant is for, gagging on Aryan superiority. Your throat’s just a sheath for my shaft.” Her muffled whimpers and heaving chokes only spurred him, the vibrations humming along his length like a tribute. The old Blutreich priests would sacrifice a hundred like her for one magical rune, he mused, thrusting harder, feeling her esophagus clench in protest. But I take my offerings alive, breaking them piece by piece.

He fucked her mouth with relentless rhythm, pulling back only to slam in again, his balls slapping her chin with wet smacks as his cock slid down her throat. Elsa’s tears streamed freely now, mixing with the drool coming from her lips, her brown eyes pleading up at him in silent agony. He taunted her mercilessly, his voice a venomous whisper between thrusts. “Look at you, little maid, eyes watering like a beaten bitch. Does it hurt? Good. The pain will remind you of your place beneath me.”

Her body heaved, a particularly brutal shove of his hips sending her into a fit of gagging, her throat convulsing around him. Reinhard laughed a sharp, mocking bark, savoring every twitch of discomfort. “That’s right, fight it. Your struggles make it tighter. Does your sweetheart Colin ever make you choke like this? No? The pathetic worm couldn’t dream of claiming you properly.”

He continued the abuse, drawing it out, varying his pace to prolong her torment—slow, deep grinds that buried his obscenely large cock to the hilt, then rapid shallow pumps that battered her lips. Elsa’s hands weakened, falling limp at her sides as oxygen deprivation set in, her sobs reduced to gurgling wheezes. Pure blood demands submission, Reinhard thought, glorying in the power. The Blutreich broke elves and orcs; I will break this Untermensch whore in a palace my ancestors would burn for weakness.

At last, when her struggles faded to pathetic twitches, he yanked free with a wet pop, his cock glistening with her spit, veins pulsing angrily. Elsa collapsed forward, coughing and gasping, strings of saliva connecting her swollen lips to his shaft. She retched onto the floor, body wracked with sobs, gulping air in desperate heaves.