Following King Frederik’s untimely demise to pneumonia, the crown passed to his son, the young Prince Henry. Much skepticism surrounded the adolescent’s abrupt ascension to Westalis’ throne and there was a deluge of discrete discussions about how Henry would be quickly reduced to a puppet ruler controlled by an ill-intended older relative.

To the everybody's surprise, King Henry proved to be an astute, pragmatic leader. Backed by his cunning mother, a strong alliance secured by a betrothal in Henry’s childhood, and several benevolent advisors who yearned for the kingdom’s prosperity above all, Henry’s reign ushered in an unexpected golden era. Henry’s loss cemented his belief that the prosperity of families and their kingdom were correlated, prompting him to enact various policies that allowed parents more time with their offspring and focused efforts on improving the kingdom’s existing infrastructure over imperialistic expansion. Ultimately, this brought him adoration from the populace and begrudging respect from the nobility.

There was just one miniscule hiccup, the smallest of speedbumps, the teensiest of hairs in what was an otherwise ideal bowl of soup:

A seedling would sooner sprout from a cement block than Henry’s balls.

Perhaps not so teensy.

Don’t be mistaken, it wasn’t due to lack of trying. Queen Isabella of Ostania, Henry’s wife, was considered pretty as a child when betrothed to Henry, but now as a young woman, was breathtakingly beautiful. But no child sprouted from between their loins as the years went on. When doubts of infertility were cast on her, she’d been magnanimous enough to allow her husband to resurrect the royal harem in secret, filling it with beautiful subjects scoured from his domain, but King Henry was ultimately unable to father a child with any of his concubines either.

To the public, King Henry was an admirable chaste man who spurned the pleasures of flesh in the pursuit of his kingdom’s happiness, though there were some whispered jokes about him swinging the opposite direction. But behind closed doors, his inner court were frantically searching for a solution to the monarch’s impotence, seeing as what were currently harmless jokes could erode the people's faith should rumors transform into truth. At their wits’ end, the royal court sought guidance from a renowned soothsayer, who told the king thus:

“On Midsummer’s eve, touch each of your wives naught more than once,

And through God’s blessing, all their progeny shall bear your resemblance,

But only one shall be yours, though you shall never know which.”

The confusion was immediate, but the truth behind the soothsayer’s words soon became apparent.

King Henry had an identical twin: Prince Charles. But as the elder sibling, Henry’s claim to the throne superseded that of his brother’s so Charles was granted the title Duke of Nottingham and enjoyed a carefree bachelor life of nobility. And given Henry’s popularity and kingship, Charles was never in the limelight outside of a handful of annual appearances. Charles had no complaint about this; frankly, he found the constant attention suffocating and royalty rather pretentious, although he wouldn’t refute the fact that his brother was a fine king. After the inner court approached Charles with this unusual request and laid out numerous stipulations to ensure the public would NEVER learn of this, the prince agreed.

During the upcoming summer solstice, His Majesty, the Queen and members of his inner court would journey to the Ostanian kingdom to improve relations between Westalis’ royal court and Queen Isabella’s family, but not before Henry had a chance to sleep with each of his wives once, and once only. Then, instead of residing within Ostania’s royal palace, they would instead meet with Prince Charles in secret at a secluded manor, who would spend the next 10 days fucking each and every woman until they were thorough bred. And when King Henry’s wives would all begin showing signs, the royal court would proclaim it as God’s blessing upon Henry, and forever keep the secret under wraps for eternity.

“How was meeting Isabella’s parents?” Charles inquired as Henry’s most trusted attendants moved the Queen's luggage and that of the king's concubines into the manor's foyer.

Though the brothers were genetically identical down to their hazel, almond-shaped eyes and even the miniscule mole underneath their left ear, in all other factors they were the epitome of a juxtaposition. Starting from their shared golden locks, Henry’s were cut short and neatly combed over while Charles grew his out and tied them into a short ponytail. His Majesty’s gracious gait insinuated a quiet ownership over everything the afternoon sun touched while the prince’s casual strut told a similar lie. And whereas the older brother’s smile had a boyish charm reminiscent of a dog welcoming its owner back home, the younger’s foxy smirk insinuated an inside joke that nobody but him could hear.

“It was pleasant for the most part, although there was definitely a little bit of tension because I'd brought along the others." Henry commented, rubbing the back of his neck whilst examining his surroundings as his exclusively female entourage chatted outside in the front garden.

“So, they’ve cleaned themselves out, right? Kidding, kidding.” Charles joked, hastily clapping a hand on Henry’s shoulders, ignoring his brother’s irritated glare as Queen Isabella entered through the front door, walking over to greet her with a kiss on the cheek. "Ah, your Highness! Don't you look absolutely ravishing! I picked out this beautiful brassiere for you to wear tonight, and God, the mere thought of cumming on your face while you wear it is just killing me."

Isabella blushed furiously, though exactly what percentage of her flushed cheeks stemmed from actually fury or mild appreciative embarrassment remained up in the air. As queen, many commented on her beauty, but none had the gall to brazenly lust after her as a sexual object, at least not directly to her face. Henry, however, was less than amused. "Exactly how does ejaculating on one's face improve the odds of conception?"

"You didn't know? Having semen rubbed on a woman's face acts as a… fertility lotion. Semen rubbed not only onto their face, but also their bosom and buttocks, improves the chances of conception. Do you plan on staying around to watch?”

“Here and there. I need to make sure my wives aren’t being mistreated.” He answered stiffly.

Charles nodded. Though he’d never say it aloud, he suspected that part of the reason why Henry was motivated to come along on this journey was to hopefully weed out several candidates from being the mother of his actual child as the soothsayer’s prophecy prevented him from touching his wives until they began to show. And though he considered showing mercy on his brother by lightly shunning one of his wives in particular or fucking her only once, as the women began to enter the manor, he simply couldn’t envision a future where he didn’t fuck each of them the way they deserved. Charles just knew that although Henry claimed that he fucked them well, they weren't as satisfied as they could be.

“Well ladies, shall we take things upstairs?”

This isn’t meant to be a particularly compelling nor deep story, but there’s a specific dynamic that I want to capture where although (mostly) everyone in king’s inner circle is aware that the prince is cucking his brother, it’s not needlessly derogatory. There’s mild banter between brothers (as brothers do), but it isn’t overly mean-spirited. Sure, Prince Charles is fucking his brother’s wives’ brains out for days on end, but it’s all for the kingdom! The queen and royal concubines love his Majesty and acknowledge that he’s a fine ruler/husband, but that won’t stop them from moaning on the prince’s cock, even if their personal feelings for him aren’t that of love. He’s just that good at fucking.

This will be heavily smut-focused RP, roughly 70/30.

Kinks: FF /M reverse gangbang scenes, cumplay, huge cocks/cock worship, rough sex, light cuckolding, sloppy oral, cumplay, titfucking, hold the moan, acts that ‘improve’ fertility but are just the prince being a perverted cunning bastard. Others could be included depending on your desires.

Limits: standard bathroom, scat, snuff, blood, violence.

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