The Hundred Heirs
Copyright© 2026 by Victoria Kane
Epilogue: The Prize
Erotica Sex Story: Epilogue: The Prize - One woman. One week. One hundred masked men. The Institute demands heirs from the world’s most powerful bloodlines. Victoria Kane is the Vessel they chose. She has other plans. Raw group ritual. Power reversal. Legacy mindfuck. No escape. No mercy.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Mult Consensual Reluctant Heterosexual Fiction FemaleDom Humiliation Group Sex Orgy Interracial Black Male White Male White Female Oriental Male Hispanic Male Indian Male Cream Pie Facial Masturbation Oral Sex Pregnancy Voyeurism
Six months after the unmasking.
Victoria summoned them with a single encrypted message:
Your prize awaits. Come alone. Refusal ends your visitation rights.
They arrived separately. Each believing, in some quiet corner of his mind, that he would finally claim dominance. That the months of silence, the photographs of growing daughters, the annual supervised visits, had softened her. That tonight she would yield.
The grand hall had been transformed.
A vast circular bed dominated the dais: black silk sheets, piled high with crimson pillows. Mirrors lined every surface; soft crimson lighting turned skin to liquid fire. The air carried faint resin and the warmer, richer closeness of her arousal. No attendants. No cameras. Just the three of them and her.
Victoria waited reclined against the pillows. Naked. Body lush and fertile post-triplets: breasts heavy and veined, nipples dark and already beading milk; hips flared wider, skin still golden from alpine sun; centre glistening with anticipation, lips slightly parted, inner folds flushed deep rose.
The three men entered together. Eyes hungry. Julian, Matteo, Marcus. They wore nothing now but the weight of their own defeat.
“Kneel,” she said softly.
They obeyed without protest this time. Naked. Lengths rising as they crawled to the bed. The mirrors multiplied them: three powerful men reduced to supplicants, shadows stretching long across the silk.
Victoria spread her legs regally.
“Doctor first,” she commanded. “Missionary. Show them your famous curve.”
Julian mounted her eagerly. Slid into her slick heat with a groan. “Still perfect ... my creation...”
She wrapped her legs around him. Nails dug into his back. “Fuck me like you dreamed, Julian. Prove you will father the next one before these failures steal it.”
He thrust deep. The pronounced curve dragged against her inner ridges with every stroke. “My motility ... superior ... I will be first again...”
Matteo and Hale watched. Stroked themselves in slow circles. Breaths uneven.
Victoria orgasmed quickly. Clenched around him. Julian spilled with a cry: thick ropes surging deep. He shuddered through the aftershocks; stayed buried until she pushed him off gently.
“Good start,” she murmured. “Father; doggy. Take me from behind while you confess.”
Matteo positioned her on all fours. Entered in careful stages, reverently. His uncut, veined length stretched her warmth-filled walls. Overflow already dripped down her thighs.
“Forgive me...” he whispered. Thrusting. “But I will seed you again ... God has chosen me...”
She pushed back hard. Met every stroke. “Harder, Matteo. Chant your prayers while you try to outbreed the others. Who gets the next heir: your guilt or their arrogance?”
Hale growled low. “Neither. Mine.”
Matteo’s pace turned desperate. Hands gripped her hips like rosary beads. “Dominus ... vobiscum...” He came with a shudder: adding his load, warm overflow cascading down her thighs in heavy trails.
Victoria flipped onto her back. Beckoned Hale. “Senator; cowgirl. Ride me while you threaten me with your laws again.”
Hale straddled her. Sank deep. She rode him reverse; faced Julian and Matteo. Breasts bounced. Milk sprayed lightly with each grind; droplets caught the crimson light.
“Feel that, Marcus? Your multiples chant worked once. Do it again. Prove you will knock me up before the priest or the doctor.”
He gripped her waist. Thrust up brutally. “No choice ... no abortion ... I will watch you swell ... watch your belly grow with my multiples ... no choice ... no escape ... breed ... breed...”
Victoria ground down. Clit rubbed his base. She came hard; squirted around him in clear, hot jets. Hale exploded seconds later: flooding her anew.
But she was not finished.
“Now,” she commanded. Voice husky with power. “All three. Full nelson. Triple in my centre. Flood me together.”