It was Bangmass and Princess Lusibeth, 89th in line to the Skull throne and Baroness of the Jungle Moons was not feeling joyous. In front of her, a horde of beings of all races were fucking and enjoying themselves with wild abandon. There was laughter, cries of pleasure and a common theme of celebration in their fucking.
It annoyed Lusibeth. She was royalty. She was a Goddess among living creatures. Every gene in her body was selected for perfection and she had near infinite power at her command. If anyone should be joyous it should be her, not these nobodies with their pathetic jobs, meaningless lives and non-significant places in history.
And yet, they were happy. It was possible they were even happier than her.
Lusibeth felt a touch of envy. She didn’t like it.
She sat on a floating chair. Her long dark curls spilled over her shoulders and onto her firm breasts. She played with the thick hair of her vussy, dipping occasionally into her sex with moisten her pubic hair. Her vussy was sated for she had climaxed many times today already. She had allowed the respectful to eat her vussy and she allowed one lucky male of extraordinary physique to enter her vussy with his strut until he pleasured her.
But yet, she still felt a small bit of emptiness. What was that?
She watched a male kiss a female while another male fucked her. The male who kissed didn’t receive as much as a handjob yet he seemed happy to kiss. He was aiding in the woman’s pleasure and somehow that put a smile on his face.
It was said that Bangmass was a time of giving as well as receiving. Perhaps Lusibeth should give something?
She snorted. Father would mock the idea. He would have a thousand people slain and then make an ironic statement about giving the gift of Death. Giving onto others was not what the Royal line of Euphoria did. They only took.
Lusibeth wondered. If she gave purely for the joy of giving, was it really giving? Much like riding a bedslave’s strut gave the bedslave pleasure; it was really only a side effect of deriving her own pleasure. Did she not deserve to feel any joy she desired?
“You,” Princess Lusibeth said to the kissing male. “I grant you the boon of my body. Ask for whatever pleasure you desire.”
The man stopped kissing the female and approached Lusibeth. He was out of shape and had the stench of a regular job about him. He looked at Lusibeth’s beauty with an appropriate amount of awe.
“Ah, could I have a blowjob?” he asked.
“Granted,” Princess Lusibeth said. She slid off the chair and fell to her knees before him. His strut was red and already slick from other conquests this day. Lusibeth took him into her mouth and treated him to the paradise between her lips.
“Merry Bangmass!” the guy yelled. Lusibeth took that as a sign that he was enjoying his gift.
The strut in her mouth was not the most impressive she had enjoyed in her mouth but she treated it as such. She fondled the man’s balls as if they were precious jewels. She let him go deep down her throat where only Kings and Ambassadors had only gone before. Her tongue licked his throbbing strut as if it belonged to someone of power.
“Fuck,” the man whispered. His eyes were large with wonder. He reached for her hair and hesitated. For some strange reason, Lusibeth took his hand and brought it to her hair. He stroked her thick curls with worshipful appreciation.
Lusibeth felt something strange in her chest. It felt . . . good. Was this Bangmass joy? Was this what giving felt like?
She liked it. It wasn’t something she wanted to do often. Lusibeth didn’t like how it was caused by the man’s thankful eyes. That seemed like something that could make her depend on others. That was unacceptable.
But she decided that it was perfectly okay for one night out of the year.
Lusibeth continued to give the commoner the gift of a Princess’s mouth.