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We hope you enjoy your visit and can keep satisfying you with the best sex stories. A Royal Impregnation Ch. Samar Singh, just twenty years old and a virgin had been drafted by the Rajmata Queen Mother to impregnate Maharani Samyukta.
The lad was a battle-scarred veteran of many a battle, but a complete novice at what he was about to do. His forearms and chest had cuts and nicks but his back was free of marks of any Impregnating sex stories having clawed him in the desperation of her orgasmic burst. What was different was that instead of the sage being prevailed upon to beget the kingdom a successor, the Chief of Guards had been asked by the Rajmata to do the deed.
Her logic was simple; the seed and graft with a warrior clan would produce a better heir than the product of an intellectual with soft hands. She wanted to stabilize the reign of her young son, whose own succession had been shaky. The choice of Samar Singh over the sage was her very own, very private decision. The sages were preferred for they were ascetic, unattached and there was no scope for any complications.
Complications could arise from the biological father resurfacing; emotional bonding between the Queen and the impregnator; political machinations and so on. For all these reasons, from time immemorial, Indian Kingdoms had preferred to have the problem solved by approaching sages and ascetics who were well disposed towards their particular kingdom. Royalty and the Spiritual gurus knew each other for generations. While the sages were not celibate, they followed a prescribed way of life which never crossed paths with the rest of the world.
And thus the insurance against complications. The Rajmata sighed. Samar Singh had grown up in front of her. He was the King's playmate of childhood days. His father was the General of the Army; the head of their family had been so for generations. So would Samar Singh, after his father's time, become the General. It had not taken much time to convince the lad of his duty Impregnating sex stories kingdom in impregnating the Maharani. The Rajmata expected no less from the loyal soldier; he came from a clan and family that had served the Royal Family well.
But the quick acceptance of the proposal sowed the seed of doubt in her mind; would Samar Singh be as clinical as she had instructed him to be? Would he avoid caresses, touching and lingering kisses? Would he avoid the prolonging of pleasure? Finally, she had decided to be a silent spectator to the deed, ensuring that neither soldier nor the queen would be sidetracked by lust. It was indeed corrupting and she reflected on the wisdom of the ages in entrusting this delicate task to the spiritually inclined ascetics. She found herself wondering whether she had erred; even her own son did not know she had different plans.
The ascetics were reputed to do the same deed differently. Her mind wandered back to the rendered by one of the elderly maids in her own mother's palace. That lady had been part of an entourage in another principality, where the queen had been dispatched to get an heir after that king had been discovered impotent.
These things were done very quietly with just a handful in the know, for the impotence of a king was political dynamite. If a king was to be a strong ruler, how could he be impotent? The psychology of the masses of those who were ruled was such. And so, there was no direct knowledge; just the grapevine and the gossip circles.
The Rajmata had been a young princess at the time, being educated at her mother's place in the art of statecraft. It was during one of those sessions that the salacious bit on the impregnation by a sage had been disclosed. He sat in deep meditation, she was told. They married and had sex only for procreation, never for pleasure.
They measured their spiritual powers by restraint and by capturing the vitality of their own living being through yoga and the forsaking of every thing material. It was not that they repressed desire; they never allowed it to overcome them. They felt it come to them as their bodies are of flesh.
But in their yogic state, they observe their own reaction and behavior as an outsider might observe them. As they watched themselves, they developed the power to control themselves. It was not about repression and avoidance. It was about acknowledgement and harnessing. That power, sexuality being the most potent of the powers, when harnessed, led to spiritual awareness, growth and sublimation. Some engaged in tantric sex as the path to sublimation. They drifted on the darker side of spirituality. At that fringe, there were those who used powers to perform magic and use their power to manipulate, destroy and command.
But the yogis at the Impregnating sex stories were not on The Dark Side. The kingdoms wouldn't patronize such an ashram. The oldest ashrams had already conquered and therefore could not be attracted by material blandishments. They had age-old alliances with specific kingdoms. And for these yogis, sexuality was something they commanded; it did not command them. That is why sending a queen to a sage was acceptable.
But it was fascinating to hear Impregnating sex stories how it was done. And that old maid had told them. It was an appointed time so when we entered his space we were surprised to see him in meditation. On hindsight, it was silly to have expected a bed Impregnating sex stories something like that," she recalled, with all the wisdom and nuance of a woman that had experienced the world. She was overwhelmed by his presence, but also by the complexity of the task at hand; she was expected to subject herself to him and be impregnated.
She was quivering with tension and knew not how to progress. The Queen had her hands folded in supplication to the spiritual master. The women gently slid the well-tucked cloth around her waist and the several yards of cloth wrapped around her unraveled. It didn't quite fall to the ground, but we all dropped our eyes instinctively. We had seen her nude so often while bathing, massaging and soothing her. But that day, it didn't seem right. The lady did not know what to expect. The yogi remained seated with eyes shut.
They moved her forward so that she was now directly in front of him, up close. His head was at the level of her groin. The two women on either side of the queen continued to walk towards the yogi, crossing him, still gently holding the Queen in their grip. She instinctively understood what was expected of her. Her hands continued to be folded in prayer and she now closed her eyes.
Her ankles grazed his knees because he was sitting cross legged and his knees jutted out. She came to stand over him, feeling the stray whiskers of his long beard tickle the insides of her thighs.
If they had walked further, her groin would have been at his forehead. But they didn't walk.
She did not know what was expected of her. She felt the cool breeze of those Himalayan climbs caress her most private parts. Her eyes were full of tears. Her face was red. She was ready to turn and flee. She might well have any moment then, when they gently pressed her shoulders down, willing her to sit. As far as she could make out he was still sitting unmoved. Scared as she was she quickly opened a narrow slit in her eyelids to see what he was doing. He was doing nothing. It was as if we were not there. My body was burning as with head bowed, but eyes straining upward I could see that she was straddling him and standing in front of him.
The space was lit only with dim diya lamps small oil lamps. The light and shade contrast in illumination was dramatic, even if dim. And I saw our Queen bend her legs and lower her body. We could see the legs spread dramatically. I am sure if he had opened his eyes, he would have seen her gaping yoni cunt. But his eyes were shut. What use an open and waiting yoni in front of a meditating Impregnating sex stories austere ascetic? She continued to lower her body.
The two women on either side supported her to help keep balance. One hand was on the small of her back and the other between her shoulder blades.Impregnating sex stories
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