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* * *
“I do not like how close we’ve moved the camp to the edge of the forest,” The Blade of the Queen said.
Responding to a not form The Blade a Fey aid cleared the simple table those gathered stood around and unrolled a crudely drawn map upon it.
“We are here,” The Blade declared, using one of the weapons magically bound to her arms to point to their location. She then lifted the blade tip and moved it to the edge of the drawn forest. “Iphasea is there, not far at all. It makes me nervous being this close to it. So far our presence in the Great Forest has gone unnoticed by the perverse Elven king but that cannot last forever.”
Queen Faeven stood across from her while the most skilled of their warriors stood around the rest of the table. Most were small Fey women, their thin bodies barely covered by garments made of large green leaves and well-worn leather. A few women of other races stood with them, the leaders of the mages and druids that had joined the Fey Queen’s army of Woman Liberators.
“I fear The Blade is correct,” one of the Fey warriors said. “We should think of moving the camp again, back deeper into the forest.”
“No,” Queen Faeven replied, her normally happy lyrical voice curt. “I feel that the forest is no longer the friend it once was. Things have been changing since the Nemorvian Novaoa went with Imeyr.” She held up an arm to display the bark bracer the god had bestowed upon her. “I have felt the magic in this weaken with every dawn that has passed since they disappeared into the deep forest. Azel was able to find us and it was only Imeyr that saves us. And have you all already forgotten about the Minotaur mercenaries? No… this forest grows weaker each day. Things that wish us harm seep in at every opening. I fear that before long it will no longer provide any safety.”
“We are not ready to attack Iphasea,” The Blade declared, clenching her fists and pulling the weapons bound to her arms close to her massive body. “And we as of yet do not know enough about the city. If we are to liberate the women trapped there in sexual servitude we must know more about it. Yet there has been no time to dispatch agents to infiltrate the city as of yet!”
“And do not forget the small army of mercenaries that was spotted leaving the city,” one of the Fey warriors added. “We were lucky one of our scouts had gone beyond the edge of the forest that day. We know they marched south on the road to Lyalduinin.”
At the mention of the revered Elven city all eyes turned to the Queen. “We will not speak of Lyalduinin,” she said softly.
“But why?” The Blade demanded. “When we began our march here the plan had been to send a delegation to the queen of the city. You had said she would aid our mission. What has changed?”
Queen Faeven shivered, the light radiating from the translucent golden crown she wore suddenly growing dim. She looked at those gathered around her, making eye contact with each one. They grew silent when they saw the sadness in their Queen’s eyes.
“Lyalduinin was destroyed,” she said, holding a hand up for silence when all present gasped. “There is nothing we could have done to prevent it.”
“What about the survivors?” one of the mages asked.”
Queen Faeven remained quiet for a long time, finally looking up with eyes filled with even more sadness than before. “There was only one survivor and she is now beyond our reach. I fear even if she were to be physically saved the things she has endured since the fall of Lyalduinin will have left too deep a scare on her Elven soul.”
“So there is no hope of reinforcements?” The Blade asked.
Queen Faeven stared at the map in silence for a few moments then looked up, the sadness gone and the light of her crown beginning to shine again. “There is always hope. And reinforcements ARE coming. Every day I use my powers to send a call out into Alaria. It draws ever more women of pure heart and mighty power to us. They will come, some in ones and twos, others in groups large and small. But it will take time and their journey here grows ever more perilous.”
“So we must wait?” one of the Fey warriors asked.
The queen nodded. “We must wait,” she replied. “But that is not all we shall do. The scouts that go out every day bring us important news of the goings-on in the Great Forest. And you all know that I frequently send small bands out on quests that may seem insignificant but will be one day be revealed to have been of great importance.”
“Are we to stay here for longer than we did at the last camp?” The Blade asked.
Queen Faeven thought then nodded. “Yes. And with that in mind I shall task you with fortifying the camp. Perhaps simple palisades can be constructed around the camp. And look outposts in the trees for the winged warriors to stand guard in. Combining the knowledge we all have, and with much help from the mages and druids, we can make this arboreal camp a fortress able to repel most attacks.”
“Then it shall be done,” those gathered said in unison.
“Good,” the queen replied, smiling at them. “I am forever proud of the women I have gathered around me. But now I need rest. I shall retire to my private tent.” She started to turn but paused and looked over her shoulder. “Shyla, you shall accompany me.”
The small Fey warrior glowed with pride at the invitation. The armor of green leaves and leather she wore left her back exposed. Her translucent wings unfurled from her back and began to flutter. Once she was in the air she began floating after Queen Faeven.
Soon the two were alone inside the queen’s large canvas tent. The furniture inside was small in number but opulent in quality.
Once the flaps into the tent had closed behind them Shyla dropped to one knee and bowed. “What does her Majesty require of me?” she asked, eyes averted as she stared at the vibrant rug she knelt on.
“Companionship,” Queen Faeven replied.
Shyla looked up and saw her queen standing with her back to her. She turned slightly towards Shyla and ran her hands down her large, perfectly shaped breasts. The small Fey woman saw her queen’s nipples begin to swell and understood what it was she wanted.
With her hands still holding her breasts, Queen Faeven bent forward, letting them hang down. She cupped them and lightly caressed their soft flesh, gently pinching her nipples. As she did she bent over further, sticking her back end out towards Shyla and spreading her legs slightly.
“I need release,” she moaned softly. “I give you permission to approach and help me attain that release.”
Shyla did not stand. She dropped all the way down to her hands and knees and crawled towards Queen Faeven.
The queen watched over her shoulder as the dainty woman approached. She moved her hands away from her breasts, running them down the sides of her body to the swell of her hips. Smiling alluringly at Shyla, she gently grabbed herself where her large perfectly shaped ass started to become her thick thighs and spread herself open.
“Come,” she purred softly. “Place your face here. Use your mouth to pleasure your queen.”
Shyla did as she was asked, shaking slightly as she moved close enough to smell the enchanting aroma of the Fey Queen’s womanhood. It was a strong scent, pure feminine sex mixed with sweet flowers that swirled with an undercurrent of powerful magic.
She closed her eyes as she reached up and wrapped her thin arms around Queen Faeven’s thick thighs then pressed her face into her back end. The smell was overwhelming and made her feel dizzy. Without noticing her wings unfurled and began to glow. She pulled herself in closer, opening her mouth and testing Faeven’s womanhood with the tip of her tongue. It was already moist with arousal.
Shyla began to lick her queen’s pussy, her wings glowing more intensely as she did. With the taste of her arousal on her tongue, Shyla knew she could speak only truth. As she licked and explored the moist folds of Faeven’s womanhood that sense of truth grew stronger. Before long she could not just speak only truth, but think only truth as well.
Queen Faeven moaned appreciatively as Shyla’s tongue worked her inside and out. “Oh yes, sweet Fey, just like that. Had I still wings they would be glowing! You’ve such skill with that mouth of yours, more so than you have with a bow.”
A moment later she had pulled away from Shyla, turning quickly and grabbing the woman’s hand to pull her along with her. She fell onto the luxuriously furnished camp-bed she slept on, pulling Shyla with her. She was soon on her back, her legs spread wide open as Shyla climbed onto the bed after her. Once Shyla’s face had returned to her womanhood she wrapped her legs down around the woman’s small waist, pulling her body closer to hers.
Shyla’s hands snaked up Queen Faeven’s body till they found her large, soft breasts. She caressed and gently groped them as she ate her out. When she next plunged her tongue into Faeven’s dripping wet cunt she grabbed her nipples, pinching them firmly and twisting and tugging on them.
Queen Faeven sat up slightly, reaching down to run her hands through the Fey woman’s hair. “This is divine,” she moaned. “Soft and loving. Caring and gentle. This is proof that not all sexual acts are inherently infused with The Corruption. We can embrace and love and pleasure each other like this and never endanger tainting our souls.”
She threw her head back into a pillow, shuddering and moaning loudly as her partner brought her to climax. A moment later she went limp, sighing happily. “Let me return the favor,” she whispered. “Bring your womanhood to me so that I can pleasure you in ways only my touch can.”
Shyla eagerly shifted her body, remaining on top of Queen Faeven but turning so that her backend was above her face. The outfit she wore ended in a short skirt that was easily pushed to the side allowing the queen easy access to the Fey woman’s pussy. Positioned this way Shayla’s face was still near the queen’s womanhood and although she had implied she was satisfied she continued to work her sex with her mouth.
Faeven reached for Shyla’s pussy, her fingertips glowing. Gently, she placed them on her outer labia, smiling when she felt the Fey woman’s body tense and enjoying the feel of the woman moaning into her cunt.
“Just a touch,” she whispered, running her fingertips down the sides of Shyla’s outer labia. “Just a touch is all it takes from me to bring more pleasure than most can bring with their whole bodies.” She moved her fingers in, gently touching the Fey woman’s inner labia and pulling them open. Shyla again moaned into Faeven’s cunt, her body tensing then convulsing.
“No man could ever bring you such pleasures so softly and so quickly,” the Queen purred, holding the fold’s of Shyla’s pussy open while moving one finger into the pink moisture revealed between. “I need not even enter you, just run my fingertip in your soft wet arousal as such.”
Shyla shook and came again. “Yes, your Majesty,” she gasped. “Please don’t stop!”
“No man could do this,” she repeated. “I hold the power of the entire Fey race within me, mixed with the natural might of women everywhere. Not mortal, almost a god,” she said, continuing to rub Shyla’s moist hole then slowly beginning to plunge her finger into it. “Yet all this power would be gone were a penis but to touch me…”
“I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” a voice from just outside the tent called, “but I must interrupt.”
Both women on the bed sighed in disappointment, pulling away from each other. “Thank you,” Queen Faeven whispered as she stood, then taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm her body.
“No, thank you,” Shyla replied, still out of breath. When she stood she almost tipped back over her legs were so weak. She laughed nervously. “You really can do things no other can to me…”
Queen Faeven smiled kindly at her. “Sit and rest a bit before you come join us. I understand how intense that can be.”
A moment later she was throwing open the canvas door and stepping out into the sunlight-filled forest. “What requires my attention?” she asked, looking around. When her eyes fell on the two new arrivals to the camp she had her answer. She began to move towards them but the Fey warrior standing just outside the tent held a hand up to stop her. “What is it?” she demanded.
The woman looked around anxiously. “Onve was the one that found her and brought her back to camp. But…” the woman trailed off.
“Tell me,” Queen Faeven said in a tone that was soft but made clear there was to be no more evasion.
“Well, look at her. That CAN’T be the Nemorvian Novaoa! She’s massively pregnant, looks as though her birthing day will be soon. How is that possible? She’s not been gone long enough. Onve agrees. She thinks it is some trap sent by the enemy. She does not think you should approach her.”
Queen Faeven stood and silently stared at the Nemorvian woman standing in the distance. She looked exhausted and the Fey warriors surrounding her were cautiously offering her water and a place to sit while trying their best to keep their distance. The Fey Queen could see her warriors keeping their hands ready to draw weapons and saw that the woman who might be Novaoa noticed but seemed too tired to care.
“Only I can discover the truth,” Queen Faeven finally said and began to walk confidently towards the new arrival.
As the queen neared Novaoa Onve came flying into sight, The Blade of the Queen stomping behind her. “Do not get any closer to it without me at your side,” the hulking woman called, Onve nodding in agreement as she followed after her in the air.
Novaoa looked up at the comment and winced as if the open distrust was a dagger in her side. “How can I prove I am who I am?” she asked, sounding as if she were about to break into tears.
“Calm, child,” Queen Faeven said softly as she walked up to her.
The Fey who had been gathered around Novaoa pulled back, many drawing weapons. The Blade and Onve remained close to the queen, none daring to tell her not to approach the pregnant Nemorvian yet no longer bothering to hide their open distrust of her.
“I can explain,” Novaoa began to say but Queen Faeven reached out, placing a finger on her lips to silence her.
“There will be no need. I can test the truth of who you are while reading your memories.”
“NO!” The Blade bellowed, stepping forward and putting herself between the queen and the Nemorvian. “If she is a spy in disguise or if what is in her belly is a tool of the enemy you can’t do what you are thinking of doing.”
There was a tense moment when all gathered around fell silent. Queen Faeven’s rule was absolute and none had ever told her “no” before. The tense moment did not last long. Queen Faeven simply laughed and pushed The Blade to the side. “I will do as I will. I AM Queen, after all.”
Novaoa was sitting on a stump, a small blanket draped over her shoulders and doing little to cover the front of her body. She was naked other than the blanket and sat with her arms wrapped protectively around her swollen belly. She looked up at the queen, her brows pressed together as she looked at her with concern. “What do you need me to do?”
Queen Faeven knelt and placed her hands gently on Novaoa’s knees. “I need you to lean back,” she said, smiling up at her. “Do you remember when you first met me? How you were made to taste the moisture of my arousal and how afterward you could only speak truth?”
Novaoa squirmed uncomfortably. The memory was faint, it felt as though it had happened a lifetime ago. “I remember,” she finally said.
“Well, now it is my turn to taste your womanhood. I shall see to the truth of you when I do and will be able to enter your mind and see your memories and hear your thoughts.”
Novaoa’s body had been tense. She let out a long sigh of relief, leaning back slightly and spreading her legs open. “Yes, please. You will see I am who I am. And you will see…” she trailed off. “See what I have gone through since we parted.”
“But Your Majesty” The Blade objected, her voice desperate. “Doing such a thing will make you to vulnerable to this… thing. If she is the impostor we fear she could use this moment of connection to—”
“Enough,” Queen Faeven said, sounding angry. “We will have the truth and we will have it now.”
She leaned in, Novaoa leaning further back and holding her pregnant belly to try and keep it out of the way. When Queen Faeven pressed her face into her womanhood the Nemorvian woman started, her eyes opening wide and flashing with a blue glow.
A moment later Queen Faeven sat up, wiping a bit of moisture from her lips with the back of her hand. “This is Novaoa,” she declared as she rose to her feet. “And she has been through much. You shall tend to her. Give her food and water and somewhere comfortable to sleep. When she wakes you shall clothe her and then bring her to me.”
She paused, staring intensely into Novaoa’s eyes. As if their minds were still connected she answered the unspoken question on the woman’s face. “I have seen the truth of her, but there are some things I cannot see. Although I saw how you became pregnant I do not know what grows in your belly, my dear Nemorvian. I must spend the night thinking, for though I have no power to find the answer there MUST be a way.”
* * *
“This way,” Onve said to Novaoa, holding open the flap into Queen Faeven’s tent.
A table had been placed in the center of the tent, a glass ball resting upon a small pillow in the center.
“Come and sit,” Queen Faeven said to Novaoa, pointing to a chair that sat across the table from the one she sat in. “Onve, you can leave us. What the orb reveals may only be for Novaoa and my eyes.”
“As you command,” Onve said with a bow, throwing a still distrustful glance towards Novaoa.
“None of them trust me,” Novaoa said softly, sounding as emotionally exhausted as she had sounded physically exhausted when she’d arrived.
“I am sorry for that,” Queen Faeven said kindly. “Once the truth of what is in your belly is discovered that will change.”
Novaoa grabbed her swollen stomach protectively. “I was so sure it was Imeyr’s… but with every minute that passes my time spent in his temple seems more like a dream. Did it really happen?” She looked to the Fey Queen, her eyes imploring her to reveal the truth.
“Yes,” Faeven said, “it was real, or as real as time with a god can be. I am not certain but I suspect you only partially remained on the plane of Alaria while in his temple.”
“What do you mean?”
“The gods,” Queen Faeven began, “can only temporarily exist physically in our plane of existence. Their true place is in the aetheric realm that exists above ours.” She laughed when Novaoa glanced up at the ceiling of the tent. “No, not above us that way. Not in the sky, not with the stars above.”
She held up a hand flat. “This is Alaria, our realm of existence.” She held up her other hand in a fist and stretched it out as far away from the hand held flat as she could. “Countless other realms exist, distant and only occasionally close enough to connect to ours. Some forms of magic draw power from these other realms, forming a kind of connection. The more of that magic that is drawn upon or given to these other realms the more connected they become, the closer they draw to ours,” she said, moving her fist closer.
“Faith,” she continued, “is a form of magic, although many do not realize this. It is something mortals give off but cannot gather to them. Only its absence can ever be felt, and only when it is drained very quickly from them. What is important is that the faith of mortals on the plane of Alaria is what feeds the gods, it is what keeps them alive and the more faith that flows to them the stronger they become.”
She flattened her fist and began to move it closer to her other hand. “The more faith that flows from the mortals of Alaria to the gods in the realm they inhabit the closer those two realms grow.” Soon she held her hands one above the other. “They live here, in their ethereal realm above ours. It is a strange place, a place where things do not exist in the ways they exist here. Even time does not exist the way it does for us.”
“So what are you saying? How could my time in Imeyr’s temple have been both in Alaria and the god’s realm?” Novaoa asked.
“As I said, the faith we give to the gods connects our realms. It connects them so strongly that at times the two realms can begin to fuse together. This is what the gods force when they appear in physical form on Alaria. They are using their immense might to push through the wall between the realms and be in both at once.”
The Queen pressed her hands together, intertwining her fingers. “It is a dangerous thing,” she said, her tone suddenly darkening. “It tears and rips at the reality of our world and, when a god stays too long or uses too much power too quickly, it can leave scars. But this can go both ways. If a god is careless when taking form in Alaria it opens itself up to dangers it would never face in its own realm. The only way to kill a god is to starve it of faith, and even then a sliver of that being can exist for eons before finally dying. But if one takes physical form in Alaria it can, if weak or foolish enough, be captured and imprisoned. And during an attack or careless act a god can leave bits of itself behind.”
“So if Imeyr really did impregnate me,” Novaoa asked as Queen Faeven lowered her hands, “I could truly be carrying the child of a god inside of me?”
“In one sense, yes,” Faeven replied, “but in other ways no. Gods do not have children, especially not with mortals. They can impregnate mortals, but the results are… unpredictable. Many races claim their creation began with such births. Legends tell of great heroes and vile monsters born this way, while others talk of these kinds of impregnations being a way for a god to be reborn into something and someone different. All of these tales describe the births as manifesting tears in reality. The labor pains exist for the mother but then the world shifts around her as the birth happens. Often when reality comes back into focus a full-grown being will exist where a child should have.”
“We do not even know for certain what Imeyr’s seed within will become,” she added. “You could be carrying something that will be birthed to become an avatar of Imeyr. Or perhaps it will grow to become some kind of creature of legend. Or perhaps it is Imeyr himself that you will birth, the god reborn. There has to be a way to discover the truth or at least more of the truth than I am able to reveal on my own.”
The Queen placed her hands on the glass ball. “There are powerful places spread throughout Alaria,” she began, the light in the room suddenly dimming as the orb began to glow. “Places ancient and full of magic that cannot be recreated easily. Somewhere near us will be a place where you can go to discover more truth, we need only locate it and use my power to divine how to use its power.”
The glass ball glowed ever brighter while the tent grew darker till the only light was the intense blue glow the ball gave off. It was bright but the illumination fell off fast as if all but the ball was being sucked into the darkness. Only each woman’s face was left illuminated, everything past only blackness.
Novaoa watched as the blue light shifted and turned inside the crystal ball. Things began to take shape as if the ball were an eye showing distant places and events. A snow-covered mountain range took shape, ravens flying from the highest peak. The image seemed to move in towards the place the ravens had flown out of, revealing an aviary built into the peak of the mountain. Novaoa saw a glimpse of three strange women standing near each other. One was plain but had humongous breasts. Another was a scantily clad wizard, although by the way she was dressed she looked more like a prostitute only pretending to be a wizard. The third woman had vibrant red skin and bright white hair that dark curved horns come out of. They all turned and for a moment it felt as though they could see Novaoa.
“No,” Queen Faeven muttered, moving her hands around the glass ball and causing the image displayed within to shift and change.
As it came back into focus it revealed five women walking through a forest. One of them was a huge giantess, another was a small Fey who fluttered above the rest. There was a pretty, young, smiling Human dressed in bright mage’s robes. The other two…
“I know them!” Novaoa called out, excited. “That is Kilne and Amitkoa! That looks like this forest, they must be near. But something is wrong with them…” She grabbed her belly again, confused when she noticed all their bellies looked as large and pregnant as her own. “Is this real or just a vision?”
When Queen Faeven didn’t answer Novaoa looked up. Her eyes lacked iris or pupil, there was only glowing blue energy steaming from them. Her expression was strained and she starred as if seeing nothing.
When Novaoa looked back down the image in the crystal had changed again. She gasped, pushing back from the table in shock. The crystal was displaying a large room, like a barn but instead of cattle lined up and chained to stalls it was Nemorvians! Strange apparatus were attached to them and it seemed they were all being milked like cattle. Armed men walked up and down the lines of women, some stopping to fuck the captive Nemorvians.
“That can’t be real,” she muttered, her heart pounding. Nothing she’d ever seen had terrified her like that image did. She refused to accept it was anything other than a terrifying vision.
The image in the crystal shifted again, revealing a beautiful Elven woman with striking long blue hair. She wore a large fur-lined robe and nothing else and sat upon a large, comfortable-looking throne. She was watching something or someone approaching her. She smiled, sliding down into the throne and throwing her legs open, resting them on the chair’s armrests.
“Come to me, my king,” Novaoa heard the woman say. It was a distant and distorted sound, but there was no doubt it was the woman’s voice. “I am so fucking wet waiting for your cock. My pussy is eager for it to be inside of me. I need you, need your seed, so that I can bear your royal heir.” Just as another figure began to step into sight the image faded.
“I don’t understand,” Novaoa whispered, glancing up and seeing that Queen Faeven’s eyes still glowed. She was certain she could not hear her so did not bother repeating what she’d just said.
A new image began to appear in the crystal but much more slowly this time. Dim at first, then slowly becoming clearer. At first Novaoa thought she was being shown the inside of a dimly lit cave, but as the lighting improved she changed her mind and thought she was looking at some kind of ancient temple. The image moved in, focusing on a large ornately carved metal saucer that sat upon a stone altar.
Queen Faeven gasped.
Novaoa looked up and saw that her eyes had returned to normal.
“This is where you must go,” she said, breathing heavily and sounding exhausted. “Deep in the forest is a cave and within that cave is an ancient shrine. The saucer you see has the power to divine the truth you search for.”
“But how? What will I need to do once I am there?”
Looking up she saw the queen furrow her brow and concentrate. “You must reach the saucer and you must… must fill it with milk from your breasts. Only then will you be able to look into the liquid and see the truth you desire.”
A moment later Queen Faeven’s hands fell weakly off the crystal ball. Sighing, she fell forward, landing on the table face first. Novaoa moved to leave her chair but the room was plunged into total darkness. A moment later the light began to return. The orb was then empty, with no image or light within it.
Queen Faeven sat up, rubbing her temples and breathing heavily. “I am sorry, child,” she whispered, “that was far more draining than I expected. Powers I did not expect were pulling on the seeing crystal. I remember only what we were looking for, I ask you to keep anything else you may have seen to yourself. Those were things we should not have seen and I fear were placed before you with ill intent.”
Novaoa bit her lip, wanting desperately to at least ask about the glimpse of her fellow Nemorvians. It had been a very long time since she had seen or even heard anything about Kilne or Amitkoa.
“You must go to the temple in the cave,” Queen Faeven said. “I will be able to provide you with a map to aid you in your journey, a journey I fear will be filled with many dangers. And you will need to leave soon, by next morning at the latest. But fear not, we shall make sure you leave equipped for the journey.”
“I must go on this journey on my own?” Novaoa asked, feeling despondent. When would her trials and tribulations end?
“That…” the Queen began then paused to contemplate with her eyes closed. “That I cannot say for certain,” she finally said opening her eyes. “I cannot see the future but I feel that you shall have at least one traveling companion. Perhaps someone in the camp will volunteer to go with you or perhaps someone shall join you along the road. I know only that you must begin the journey soon.”
* * *
Meadow groaned, shifting slightly as she began to wake. Her body was sore and her bare skin felt soiled. She started to roll over but the action was not as easy as she had expected it to be. Confused, she remained motionless as she allowed herself to wake further.
Slowly, once she was able to move, she felt her belly. Her eyes weakly fluttered open at the unfamiliar largeness her hands felt. The small Fey woman slowly used her hands to push herself up so she could look down at herself.
For a long time she stared, not understanding what she was seeing. Was this really her body? It didn’t look right. It didn’t FEEL right. She tried to remember what had happened.
Looking around she saw that she was in a large cavern lit by glowing red fungus. When she saw the large lake she was laying near the memories came flooding back. She’d led the group of female warriors to the cave so that they could face the corrupted monster hiding within and then she’d ensured the women had lost the battle with it.
And then it fucked us, she thought, savoring the memories as they returned to her. And not just the memories of what had happened to her, but the memories of what had happened to the others.
It had been glorious! But how had it ended?
Looking back down at her large swollen belly more memories came back to her. The tentacle monster had fucked something into all of them. She smiled, holding her pregnant belly happily. And now that it has impregnated us I can continue my task.
She looked around and saw the other women spread out on the cave floor near the shore of the underground lake. They were all still unconscious and each of them had swollen bellies full of the monster’s young.
Meadow was far too sore and exhausted to do more than sit up. Understandable, she thought. That gloriously perverse creature had not just been cumming inside of us. The semen-like substance it sprayed all over us and ejaculated into us over and over again had been priming our bodies for impregnation. Only after our bodies had been changed by the fluids did it inject its young into us.
She didn’t understand the biology beyond that. Had it fucked some kind of egg into them? Had it been some kind of embryo? Or was the thing in their bellies already more developed? She didn’t know.
What she DID know was what she had to do next. The creature’s growing within them had to be brought back to Queen Faeven’s camp where they would be birthed so they could defeat and corrupt the queen and her army of female liberators.
The hard part would be convincing the others to head back to the camp.
Meadow needed inspiration or instructions from the forces that she served. When she had the strength she crawled to the water’s edge, knowing it was the part of the cave most soaked with The Corruption. She got as comfortable as she could sitting in the damp rocky dirt and leaned over the water.
“Show me,” she whispered.
Wisps of red light sprung to life within the water, dancing and floating towards the surface. As they neared her they began spinning, forming a glowing circle. Once it reached the surface the area inside the spinning circle shimmered, images beginning to form inside of it.
Meadow watched as she was shown the moment the tentacle monster impregnated them all. She smiled, unable to stop herself from reaching down past her swollen belly to touch herself.
She shifted so she could play with her breasts with her other hand. Till then she hadn’t noticed how much they had changed as well. They had increased in size and their flesh was tender and sore.
And why not? My body looks as though I’m eight or nine months pregnant. She gave one of her breasts a gentle but firm squeeze and felt a slight release of pressure. A bead of milk formed on the tip of her nipple, growing in volume till it began dripping. Of course I feel exhausted and sore. Even with the aid of whatever was in the creature’s spunk my body has gone through drastic changes in a short time.
The scene the image in the water played out as she remembered had. The monster kept fucking them even after its young had been implanted into their bodies. She watched herself held up in the air, cock-tipped tentacles thrusting in both ends of her body. The tentacles tipped with red magic caressed and rubbed her body and she watched as she came over and over again till exhaustion overtook her small body. Even after she’d passed out the creature kept going.
It was the same for everyone else. The monster fucked them each till they passed out then kept going. She knew instinctively that it hadn’t needed to; it did so because it felt good and sexual pleasure pleased the force she and the monster served.
Zomos’ large body had been pressed against a rock on the shore’s edge so she sat upright after she had passed out. Thick cock-tipped tentacles thrust between and under her gigantic breasts, oozing and spraying more cum over them. Glancing over her shoulder Meadow saw the giantess laying in the same position, slumped back against the large rock and covered in a thick layer of mostly dried monster cum.
When she looked back at the water she was shown Destine Foy. It appeared she was determined to remain conscious and still struggled in vain to escape the tentacles she was entangled within and being fucked by. The struggles seemed to begin to annoy the creature and the cock-tipped ones all pulled out of her various fuck-holes. She watched the Human mage experience a moment of relief and hope that was then dashed as quickly as it had arisen.
The regular tentacles had kept firm hold of her, holding her up in the air far above the surface of the water. The cock-tipped ones that had pulled out were soon joined by more. They surrounded the blue-haired mage, growing harder and pointing their cockheads at her body from every angle. In near unison they all began to cum, blasting monster semen at her from every direction. She howled in disgust as the cum continued to flow. Before long she was covered head to two in a thick yogurt-like oozing mass.
No sound came from the image but Meadow could easily imagine the mage’s wails of despair as the blasting, unending flow of monster cum broke the last of her spirit. Pushed past her physical and mental limit Destine finally went limp.
Meadow had sat up by then, spreading her legs wide open so she could masturbate while watching the images in the water. She plunged two of her small fingers deep into her wet hole, rubbing her clit with her thumb as she did. Her other hand worked her breasts, gently rolling her over-sensitive nipples between her fingers then pinching them just enough to send shivers down her body.
When the image shifted to show the two Nemorvian’s being fucked into unconsciousness she was nearing climax. The tentacle monster seemed fixated on the milk it was squeezing from their breasts and every time it sprayed on one of its tentacles it shivered as if the fluid had some intense power in it.
And it just might, she thought, remembering the tales of the bovine race’s supposed magical creation. A race created by a curse of Ynara. If true then even the purest of hearted Nemorvian would be born with a slight taint of The Corruption within them. That could mean their milk could be potent in ways beyond what is generally known. Then again, the tentacles might just be responding to whatever quality in their milk made men hard.
When her thought finished and she looked back at the pool the scene had changed. She saw what she had seen when she awoke: the band of female warriors unconscious, their bellies huge and their naked bodies soiled. She saw herself crawl to the water’s edge and saw herself watching images.
The image then shimmered, disappeared for a moment, and then reappeared. Meadow knew she was no longer being shown the past but the potential future. She was waking the others, comforting them and helping them leave the cave behind. She heard no sound yet in her mind she knew what words were being spoken. She watched, nodding, as the power showing her these images of the future told her the words she’d need.
* * *
“We must return to Queen Faeven’s camp as quickly as possible,” Meadow was telling the others. “We are weaponless and do not even have clothing. But more importantly, we must return to her for healing.”
The women gathered around her were exhausted and their spirits broken. All of them seemed ready to follow Meadow’s command without question.
I probably did not need the inspiration from the pool, Meadow thought. With as broken as they are they would have listened to any lie I would have told them. But I enjoyed what the pool showed me. It felt like a reward for my service.
“You are all exhausted,” she told them. “I am too,” she added, placing a hand on her swollen belly. “But we must press on as quickly as we can, resting only when it is absolutely necessary. Whatever is inside of us must be… ‘healed’. And the sooner we allow Queen Faeven to do this the better it is for all involved.”
If the queen had been able to “heal” their ailment the statement would have been true. But as far as Meadow knew there was only one way to “heal” them all: by giving birth to the tentacle monsters gestating within their bellies. The real reason they needed to return to the camp quickly was how little time there was before the creatures’ birthing time would arrive. She HAD to ensure they were back at the camp by then.
And if we are lucky, Meadow thought, these wonderful little monsters will be birthed at the camp before the queen can realize what is within us. I may have to slow our progress a bit as we near the camp for it would not do to arrive too early and have the queen send us away…
Chapter Twenty-Four: The Intrigue of Two Kingdoms
King Jennenes sat upon his throne, holding court. He nodded as he listened to the gathered men reporting on their overflowing coffers.
“And if things continue this way,” the one who was speaking told the king, “the city of Iphasea will quickly become one of the richest cities in recorded history.”
Jennenes looked to his Majordomo. The man nodded and held up a silk-lined package.
“A correction,” the King told the man.
The happy look on his face faded. “Sire?” he asked nervously.
“When you speak of Iphasea being rich do not just speak of the capital city. Speak of it as a kingdom. You are making the kingdom of Iphasea rich.”
The man nodded, bowing and muttering an apology.
“No apology needed,” the king said, waving the apology away. He sat up and put on an expression he knew would signal to those present that what he next said would be very important. “When I took the throne the kingdom of Iphasea was little more than a city and its surrounding lands. But that is changing, and changing fast. We ARE a kingdom and one day, under my leadership, shall be one of the largest most powerful kingdoms in all of Alaria. If that is to be true my people must start thinking of Iphasea as such.”
He paused and waved his Majordomo forward. They watched him, their eyes drawn to the silk package in his hand. There was fear in their eyes as they looked at it.
Good, thought Jennenes, let them fear what is to come. It will make the joy I know they will soon feel even more splendid.
“You good men and women run the brothels that have always made Iphasea city famous. You control the center of commerce that fills my coffers with riches. It is fitting, then, that you be elevated to a station ABOVE where you stand today.”
The throne room fell silent, a wave of nervous excitement spreading through those gathered.
“Today you become more than you were when you entered this hall. Today I raise you, good men and women, to a position of higher standing. Today,” he said, pausing and leaning forward, “you become Iphasea’s first nobles.”
His Majordomo began walking up to each of them one at a time and handing each of them a signet ring and emblem of authority that could be pinned to their clothing.
“These symbols of status shall become heirlooms of great importance to you and your families. You shall wear them with pride, knowing they prove your worth to me and the kingdom. You shall wield the power they give you to increase the wealth of both your noble families AND the kingdom of Iphasea. You came here merchants, men and women of wealth. You leave nobles, heads of the families that all within our growing kingdom will look up to with awe and fear.”
The newly appointed nobles stood in shock, unable to speak.
Once the rings and emblems had been handed out Jennenes waved them away. “Go now, back to your homes and businesses. Tell your families and servants what has happened. Start projecting the power I’ve bestowed upon. Start acting like the nobles you now are!”
As they began to leave the king’s Majordomo approached the throne and leaned in so only Jennenes could hear him speak. “That went exceptionally well, my Liege.”
The king nodded. “And what is next?” he asked, hoping he knew the answer.
“The mercenaries sent to take the mines of Lyalduinin have sent a messenger here to report on their efforts.”
“Excellent,” the king replied, grinning happily in expectation.
A burly, scarred mercenary was led into the chamber. He glanced around at the room’s opulence and chuckled as if finding it all silly. He approached the throne and gave a bow so exaggerated its mocking tone was clear.
The Majordomo looked at King Jennenes nervously then let out a breath of relief when he saw him smirk at the mercenary.
“What news do you bring me?” King Jennenes asked, not bothering to hide his eagerness.
The man ignored the question. “Why does a man like you need more riches than he already has? I look around this room and I see evidence you could drink and feast and whore every day for the rest of your life and still have coin left to leave to any brats you put in a woman’s belly.”
“Calm,” Jennenes whispered, placing a hand on his Majordomo’s shoulder. “I know what to expect from a man like this. He is a useful tool, one I will not waste unless it is truly needed.”
“You are not used to being around royalty, are you?” the king asked the man.
The mercenary shrugged. “Done a lot of dirty jobs for a lot of rich people from fancy families because they were unwilling to get dirt on their hands. Seen a lot of people come before them, kneeling and simpering because they knew those fancy, rich people had power over them. But those people never have anything the ones in power need, at least anything they couldn’t take if they wanted.” He paused, smirking at the king. “But the dirty work me and my boys do, it’s something that can’t be taken from us, only bought.”
King Jennenes laughed. “It is very refreshing to see a Human who understands his true worth. I won’t bother asking my question again, I already know you won’t answer yet. I feel, however, I can assume you’ve accomplished the task I paid you to do, if not you wouldn’t be here before me feeling you have the upper hand.”
The man smiled, revealing a mouth missing many teeth. “You are clearly one of the smart fancy ones.”
“Smarter than you realize,” Jennenes replied. “You’ve either killed or driven off the Orcs and the ruins of Lyalduinin are fully under your control. And that means the emberstone mines are under your control and THAT potentially makes you and your men very rich. Is any of this sounding wrong?”
“I am eager to hear why you used the word ‘potentially’,” the mercenary asked. “We have the mines, thus we have their riches.”
King Jennenes leaned forward menacingly in his throne and smirked at the man. It was times like these that he was glad it sat upon a rise, being above someone always helped when you wanted to intimidate them.
“But you DON’T have any riches,” he told him. “On its own raw emberstone has no value. To have value it has to be mined and shipped to merchants and craftsmen who can turn it into objects that can then be traded for riches. You and your men COULD begin mining the emberstone, but I doubt that would go over well. Men accustomed to killing for money often get bored when they don’t have need to kill anymore. How long would your men keep working those mines? No, you wouldn’t even get that far, how many would even be willing to do that kind of grueling monotonous work?”
The mercenary frowned at the king, remaining silent as he thought about what he was being told.
“But let’s assume your men wouldn’t simply abandon you and the mines, or worse slit your throat while you sleep. Let’s say you begin mining the emberstone. Then what? Do you or your men know how to do that? What tools to use to remove the ore from the earth without it losing its ability to glow as bright as a lantern? Let’s say you figure that out. THEN what? Where do you ship it? HOW do you ship it? I could go on and on. There are so many things you don’t know that you don’t even know you don’t know them.”
The mercenary’s brow was furrowed and it looked like trying to understand the king’s last sentence physically pained him.
King Jennenes sat up then leaned back in his throne, smirking at the man. “I’m a king for a reason and you are a mercenary for a reason. I see through you. You accomplished your task. You hold the ruins and the mines. And that leaves you thinking about how little you were paid. How could you not with King Teddem selling his Dwarven mercenaries for so cheap you’ve had to lower your prices to almost nothing just to get a job? You think now that you have what I want you can ask for more money. Am I right?”
It was clear the mercenary was angry. King Jennenes was making a fool out of him, making him feel dumb and simple. His jaw was clenched and his sword arm kept flexing as he fought the impulse to grab his weapon.
“Calm your nerves, mercenary,” the king declared, waving a hand towards him. “I understand what you want and why you feel you deserve it. And I will even admit that I knew you were being criminally underpaid when you were hired. That was unfair and I wish to make that wrong right. When you leave my palace it will be with enough riches to retire from mercenary work, if that is what you wish. But from what I’ve seen of you that won’t be happening. Which is good, because aside from extra pay for the job you’ve already done I wish to extend your employment.”
The man was no longer angry. The promises of being given what he’d planned on having to negotiate for had left the man happy and eager to show deference for the king now. “What do you need of us, Your Majesty?”
King Jennenes suppressed a chuckle. How easily the heart and minds of most are won over, he thought.
“It will take me time to recruit a workforce that will be able to turn the abandoned mines and ruins of Lyalduinin into something that will bring me riches. Till that is done, till defenses can be constructed and a proper garrison to protect it be trained I’ll need you and your men to keep it from falling into anyone else’s hands.”
“How long will all that take?” the man asked, looking concerned. He quickly added, “It’s not the pay I worry about, I trust you’ll pay us good now. It’s just… my men, you were right about them. They can get bored real fast when there’s no fighting to be done.”
King Jennenes nodded. “I do not think that is something you need worry about. I acted quickly and got you and your men to the ruins of Lyalduinin quickly. Others will hear what happened long before they hear I’ve claimed them. Others will have the same idea I had. They will send mercenaries and maybe even armies if they can. You and your men will have plenty of fighting to do. In fact, with that in mind I will insist on giving you money to hire more to your cause. If an army does march towards Lyalduinin you’ll need an army to defend it.”
He watched the man’s face as he processed everything he had just told him. He saw the momentary doubt that he’d be able to keep a larger force under control and the fear of having to fight a potentially larger force than his. Then he saw the fears slide away as the man processed how much power was being given to him.
The brute is already starting to wonder what he’ll be able to do with a much larger force that’s been battle-hardened after defending the mines. I can see it on his face, he’s imagining his mercenary troop becoming a mercenary army. The glory! And ah, there it is, the little dream that goes too far. If he has the power of an army why does he need to be paid by kings? Why can’t he be sitting where I am one day?
“I can see that my proposal pleases you,” King Jennenes said.
“Yes, Your Majesty. I think we’ve much we can do for each other.”
There it is, he thinks he has the upper hand again. He thinks I’m giving him my crown in a roundabout way. All he needs is time. I’ll give him the recourses to grow his force into an army and then give him a position that will leave them so battle-hardened no force will be able to stand up to them. And then he’ll march here.
Jennenes showed no concern on his face for her felt none in his heart. He was already ten steps ahead of the man. When it came time to recruit more mercenaries to his force to bolster their numbers Jennenes would ensure many of them were secretly loyal to him. He’ll ensure men who are master tacticians join the mercenaries along with a few rouges who will easily be able to ensure the mercenary’s lieutenants start having “accidents”. Those master tacticians, loyal to him above all others, will quickly be put into roles of command over the growing army. Eventually the man would have his own accident, but not at first.
Let the fool do the grunt work of turning hordes of mercenaries into a standing army. When it’s time I’ll have his pathetic life snuffed from existence and take direct control of the force, officially making it the start of Iphasea’s standing army.
Jennenes blinked, realizing the mercenary was still standing before him. He’d been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn’t heard the last question that had been asked. “What was that?”
“What of the Elven Queen? What will happen to Ghilliana now that she is free? Will we need to deal with her if she returns to the ruins of Lyalduinin to reclaim her destroyed kingdom?”
The question surprised Jennenes, although he realized it shouldn’t have. Of course the leader of the mercenaries who Ghilliana was and knew that he’d pledged to free her once the mines were his.
“You will not have to deal with Ghilliana,” King Jennenes declared confidently.
“Has she given up on regaining a throne?” the man asked. “As I said, I’m familiar with royal types. Your kind doesn’t deal well with not having a throne under your ass once you’ve had one there.”
“Oh, no,” King Jennenes said, smiling evilly at the man. “The beautiful Ghilliana has not given up on regaining a throne and she has no need to go in search of one.” He paused, looking around and making eye contact with as many standing in the throne room as he could. What he was about to say would be news to them all, even his Majordomo. “Ghilliana has chosen to remain in Iphasea as my queen!”
* * *
King Teddem sat upon his throne, The Arms of the King behind and to the sides of him. Two ornate stone chairs had been placed on either side of his dais where his two central advisers sat in them: Julianna the Priestess of Ynara to one side and Taya, the Priestess of Azel to the other.
Before the king stood a large gathering of Dwarven men and women, all dressed in finery. All gathered wore clothing that made frequent use of bright shades of red and displayed the crest of the same clan on jewelry and emblems. They were the prominent and important members of the Redspine Clan.
The Arms of the King slammed their heavily armored feet on the ground in unison, signaling that the king would now speak.
“It brings me great joy that the influential and important members of the great Redspine Clan have come to this summons. Surely you have all heard what has happened to other clans that have ignored my summons. The mighty Redspine Clan once more shows why it is so respected and feared.
“I will get right to the point, for I know you all have personal matters of importance that you would rather be attending to. You are here because your clan has publicly proclaimed your acceptance of the new gods that are now worshiped within the Shadow Mountains. But my royal ears have heard rumors that this is but a public mask your clan wears and that in private you refuse to worship Ynara and Azel. Today you shall have your chance to prove these rumors false.”
The gathered Dwarves began to murmur. The king had chosen his words carefully and the implication was that the king assumed they were guilty and they were now being given the chance to prove otherwise.
“You Liege,” a middle-aged Dwarf said, pushing forward and bowing to the king. “I apologize for reminding you, but this is not the Dwarven way. The custom is to assume innocence until proven guilty. Your wording makes it sound like you have inverted this great and honorable tradition.”
“You would do well to remember,” the king began, his voice full of cold anger, “that I am king now. The only traditions that matter are the ones I say matter. You are head of your clan, Doselrug Redspine, you should know this. Now return to your place and do not interrupt me again.”
The man bowed and quickly pulled back, shaking in fear. As he returned to the place he had been standing a middle-aged woman smirked and whispered something in his ear. The king made note of the gloating look on the woman’s face. Thanks to the powers his runic crown gave him King Teddem could sense she was saying some version of, “I told you so.”
That will be a woman to watch closely, the king thought.
“This is what will happen today,” the king boomed. “In a moment the men of the clan shall leave the chamber, following Julianna, Priestess of Ynara, and Taya, Priestess of Azel, into a smaller audience chamber nearby. There the men of your clan shall show prove their devotion to our new gods by showing these Priestesses that they know how to worship their gods.”
The gathered Dwarves began to murmur again, many sounding scandalized. Even if the rumors of their clan refusing to worship the new gods were true they would all know that praying to Ynara or Azel required sexual acts.
“At the same time the women of the clan shall remain here with me. They will each be given the chance to approach me and worship one of the two gods with me while I sit upon my throne.”
At this the murmurs became louder and angrier. The gathered men looked outraged, many reaching for weapons they carried with them. None drew these weapons but it was clear the mood in the room was one that sat on the knife-edge of turning to violence. Some had to be thinking that if it came to violence they would have the upper hand, the king was unarmed and although the Arms of the King were intimidating they were vastly outnumbered.
King Teddem rose to his feet and raised a hand, bellowing “QUIET!” The runes of his “crown”, both on his throne and his scalp glowed brightly as his voice echoed through the throne room. The gathered Dwarves gasped and many threw hands to their throats in shock as they found themselves suddenly unable to speak.
They have all heard rumors of the power my crown gives me over my subjects, the king thought as he overlooked the shocked crowd before him, but now they have felt it. Good.
Although silenced, once the shock wore off the men continued to look nervous and angry and many still stood tensed as if ready for combat. What the king was demanding was unheard of in the Shadow Mountains. He was demanding each of the prominent women gathered “pray” with him in some sexual manner. The majority of the men found this demand repulsive and demeaning to them and their women.
Many of the gathered Redspine’s eyes began turning to Doselrug Redspine, looking to their head of clan for leadership. His squat muscular body was tensed more than any other and he was glaring up at the king.
For a moment King Teddem thought the man was going to draw his weapon and command his clan to attack. It was something the king was far more prepared for than those gathered understood and should they attack he knew they had no chance of success.
Still, he thought, it would be such a waste.
Just as Doselrug began to reach for his weapon the woman who had whispered in his ear before moved close, grabbing his wrist and stopping him from acting. She glared at him and again whispered in his ear. Doselrug deflated, his arm falling limply to his side. He looked defeated and the men of the clan, seeing this, followed after him. The tenseness about them melted away and their expressions became filled with resigned defeat.
“We will do as you require,” Doselrug proclaimed, sounding like a general who had just agreed to terms of surrender. He turned and began walking towards the door out of the throne room. The other men began following him, all looking as defeated as their clan leader.
King Teddem nodded to Julianna and Taya. Both women started to rise to their feet, then leaned in to whisper to the king.
“It is just as we thought, Your Majesty,” Taya whispered.
“It is the women of Clan Redspine that hold the real power.”
They left their seats beside the king and quickly caught up with the men leaving the throne room. As they reached them they smiled and laughed and began placing reassuring hands on shoulders. The mood of the men began to change to one of excitement as they looked at the sexually appealing foreigner’s bodies and realized soon they would each be “praying” with one of them.
It is just as they told me, the king thought watching the Priestesses lead the men from the room, if it has a cock they can easily win it over. These great and mighty Dwarves will be putty in their hands. And they are being separated not to be judged as they were told, but to be taught. Regardless of where their faith is now they will each leave the Priestesses’ presence devoted to either Ynara, Azel, or both of them.
The women that remained in the throne room, though, WOULD be judged. The worried expressions on their faces made it clear they knew this. King Teddem was also able to use the powers of his runic crown to sense their emotional state and saw that most feared they would fail the test they were about to be given.
His eyes returned to the woman who had been whispering in the head of clan’s ear. She did not look afraid or doubtful. If anything, the woman looked confident and that intrigued the king.
Just before the men of the clan began to leave the throne room the king called out, just as he and the Priestesses had planned. “One moment! Before you leave, hear this proclamation.”
The men all stopped and turned to look at their king, worry and fear returning to their faces.
King Teddem stared at them for a moment, using a stern expression to make it clear his proclamation would be important. “Should you not convince me and my priestesses of your true acceptance of these new gods there will be consequences.” He looked to the women gathered before him and said, “The brothels of Iphasea always need more whores.” Then he looked back to the men. “And the deep mines we’ve begun to dig need fresh slaves. If we are convinced that your clan as a whole does not fully support the crown and my new gods your ENTIRE clan will be wiped from existence in the Shadow Mountains.”
He paused, letting the threat sink in. Then, wanting to ensure they understood what he meant, he continued. “Aside from your individual fates your clan’s history will be erased from every book and stone and scroll. Your clan’s name will never be spoken again and everything will be done to erase any memory of its existence even from the minds of the Dwarven citizens under my rule.”
Every member of Clan Redspine gasped.
The traditional gods that the Dwarves of the Shadow Mountains worshiped were ancestral gods. These gods were not divinely powered by prayer as other gods were but by the remembering and veneration of family and clan history. These gods were worshiped through the celebrations of great deeds done by revered members of a clan. To wipe the memory of a clan from existence that way would be wiping their ancestral gods from existence as well.
King Teddem smiled. “I can see that you now truly understand the stakes. Go now, men of Clan Redspine, and leave me with your women so that I may judge their worth.”
A few minutes later King Teddem was alone with the women of Clan Redspine, only the Arms of the King in the room with them. He stood once they were alone and held his arms out. The Arms approached him, storing their massive axes on their backs, then began undressing the king. It was a simple task as the resplendent clothing he was wearing was little more than a robe.
Once undressed he stood naked, looking down at the women before him. He moved his eyes across the crowd, making eye contact with as many as he could. Many of the women averted their eyes and it was clear that they were all uncomfortable with his nudity. Others, however, seemed to be unable to look away. King Teddem was a perfect specimen of Dwarven male virile at its peak. He was strong and attractive and he knew his naked body was better looking than almost any other Dwarf in his kingdom.
The last person he made eye contact with was the middle-aged woman who had drawn his attention several times now. He looked to her and saw her standing tall and proud, smiling at him with not a hint of fear or discomfort on her face nor a blush of arousal.
His impulse was to call her forward first but he ignored it. His Priestesses had counseled him to not call on any woman who seemed to be leading the clan. They would come forward when the time was right, they had told him. “Start with the younger clan members,” they had told him.
“You,” King Teddem said, pointing to one of the youngest women in the room. “Come forward.”
The young Dwarf did as she was commanded, glancing at those around her as if asking for help. They all pulled away from her, leaving her isolated and alone before the king.
“You shall now prove to me that you have accepted the new gods. You shall pray with me in the manner they find pleasing. So who shall we be praying to? Shall it be Ynara, Goddess of Fat Tits, or Azel, God of Cock?”
The girl’s face blushed and she glanced down at her chest, looking self-conscious. She was small-breasted for a Dwarf and obviously considered herself lacking in the eyes of Ynara. “I shall worship Azel with you, Your Majesty,” she said, her voice shaky.
King Teddem sat on his throne and spread his legs. “Then come forward and show me how you pray to Azel.”
She took a few uncertain steps toward the throne, stopping to glance behind her. King Teddem saw the middle-aged woman nod at the young woman. When she turned around she looked slightly less uncertain and quickly closed the distance between the king and her.
“I shall pray to Azel with you,” she repeated, not meeting his eyes. She took a few steps up the dais and knelt at the king’s feet. Once on her knees she looked up and met his eyes. “May I begin?” she asked.
King Teddem nodded. She was young and pretty with full lips that were already making his manhood start to swell. But thanks to the power of his runic crown he knew she had never done this before, never prayed to Azel. The lie in her mind was clear as day to him. She’s probably never even sucked a cock, he thought, amused.
Once his dick was in her mouth he felt certain she’d never sucked a man off. If not for the rush of arousal from the power he felt over the girl she’d probably not have been able to keep him hard.
“I do not feel the faith in you,” he declared loudly for all to hear. “It does not feel to me like you are worshiping a god by sucking my royal cock.” He was staring down at her, his cock in her mouth as she looked up at him, yet thanks to his runic crown he could feel the rest of the women in the room tense.
The young woman started to pull back but King Teddem stopped her, putting a large meaty hand on the back of her head and holding it in place so that his cock remained in her mouth. “You did not come to me with the true faith of the God of Cock within you. But that can change, I shall choke the faith into you if need be.”
He pulled her head in towards his body, the dense muscles of his arm flexing as she started to choke and gag and try and pull away. He hardened as she struggled while he worked his full length down her young throat. “Submit to my royal cock,” he grunted. “Submit to Azel!”
She continued to choke and gag, pushing vainly at his powerfully muscled legs in a vain attempt to push away from him.
“SUBMIT!” the king boomed. His runic crown glowed on his scalp and the top of the throne behind him as he bellowed the command.
The woman looked up at him, her eyes half rolled up into her head as she struggled to breathe. King Teddem saw a glimmer of red sparkle in her eyes for a moment. Once it was gone the woman’s body relaxed. She stopped fighting. She wrapped her arms around the king’s legs and she started moving her head, sucking his cock with skill that had not been there moments ago.
King Teddem leaned back in his throne and moaned happily as he ran a hand through the young woman’s hair. “There we go…” he sighed. “You’ve let the faith of the God of Cock into your heart and soul.”
Before long he came. The woman made a production of swallowing the king’s royal seed before standing and bowing before returning to the crowd before him.
King Teddem sat on his throne, his huge Dwarven cock hanging limply off the edge of his throne. He glowed with post-orgasmic contentment, looking at the women gathered before him and eagerly envisioning each and every one of them servicing him.
“She was young,” he finally declared, “so I will excuse her seeming lack of faith as youthful naivety, especially as I can see her now full of the faith she was previously lacking. But know this: if there is a pattern emerging here it bodes unwell for your clan.” He paused, watching the fear on their faces, then asked, “Who is next?”
After a moment of confusion where the women all argued amongst themselves a slightly older and much prettier Dwarf came forward. She wore clothing that highlighted her impressively sized cleavage. Unsurprisingly, she declared she would worship Ynara with the king.
As she stepped up the dais she hesitated, glancing at the king’s manhood. “Is his Majesty’s, uh… Are you able to pray again so soon?”
He smirked at the woman. “I am. And was I not either of the gods being worshiped here would help ensure I was. And should that fail my Arms have a few reinvigoration potions on hand.” He looked past her at all the other women. “Worry not, my loyal subjects, I will be more than able to pray with each and every one of you.”
From the looks some of the women gave each other he could tell that at least some of them had hoped to get out of their prayers with the king by waiting till later. And perhaps they will, he thought. If it gets to the point that I have to use the reinvigoration potions I may need to finish this up before I’ve had my turn at every woman here. They work, but if taken too much too close together their potency wears off quickly. And after the physical fatigue one has put off catches up.
The woman standing at the king’s feet cleared her throat and reached up to pull the strings keeping her bodice closed, opening the garment and pulling her breasts out. “How would Your Majesty wish to pray with me?”
He looked into her eyes and let the magic of his crown see into her mind.
All she knows about Ynara worship is that it is sexual and has to do with breasts. She has no idea what she is supposed to do now and was hoping I’d lead. Ha! This clan truly is doomed. But it will bring me great joy to let this play out. And the tales of what happens today will fill the OTHER clans with fear.
The king grinned at the woman in a manner he saw unnerved her. “How would I like to worship Ynara? Oh, there are so many different ways. Since you claim to already worship that most wonderful goddess I want you to lead the way. YOU show me the way you most often worship our goddess.”
She looks like she’s about to cry, the king thought joyously. She’ll confess now to her lie! No… No, she’s looked back at the women they all look to for direction. She’s going to press on and try to guess how one prays to Ynara.
“Well?” the king asked impatiently.
“Sorry, your Liege,” she muttered, letting down the front of her clothing and exposing her exquisite Dwarven breasts. They were large and wide and dense just the way the king liked them.
He leaned forward to whisper so just she could hear. “We both know you have lied about having done this before. But perhaps you are smart enough to guess what to do next, eh? At the very least you have a body that suggests it’s been blessed by Ynara. Maybe she watches you now and will give you the divine inspiration you need to save your clan.” He paused, enjoying the way she quivered in fear at the last comment. “Oh yes, the fate of your entire clan rests on these amazing tits of yours. Now show me how you pray to Ynara.”
The king sat back and relaxed, waiting to see what the woman would do.
She dropped to her knees, resting her large breasts on the king’s thick, muscular legs. She moved closer, grabbing them and hefting them up to rest on his thighs. She let them rest there for a moment, looking up and trying to read his expression to see if what she was doing was correct.
He kept his face blank and stared at her, simply waiting for what she would do next. His manhood, however, was responding to the feeling of her large, warm, heavy breasts resting in his naked lap. It had begun to swell and harden, something she quickly noticed.
The woman pulled back slightly, grabbing his dick with both hands and lifting it. She moved in closer, pressing her breasts around its base and stroking him slightly as he finished hardening.
For a moment the king thought she had guessed the correct way one worships Ynara and the surprise showed on his face. The woman misread the change in the king’s face and spit into a hand then started stroking him faster. She kept her breasts pressed tightly around the base of his long hard cock but focused all her effort on stroking it.
She smiled up at him, thinking she was doing the right thing. “Your Majesty likes what I am doing with my hands,” she told him.
It was not a question and there was no denying that he was enjoying what she was doing. In fact, she was more skilled with her hands than some whores he’d had over the long years of his life.
“I must please Ynara to have your manhood pleasured this way with my breasts practically wrapped around it. I think you were right, she’s blessed me and shown me the way. Now cum for me, Your Majesty, cum for me and the goddess Ynara.”
He let her continue, confidently incorrect. She was good with her hands and he enjoyed the feel of her breasts on his legs but more than that he was getting a sick pleasure out of letting the woman damn herself.
When he came she aimed his manhood at her tits and stroked him off into them. “Ynara be praised,” she proclaimed.
King Teddem muttered the words with her, surprised as he did. He felt the strange divine tingle he felt when praying properly to the goddess and watched as the load of cum he’d splattered onto the woman’s bare breasts began to shimmer with sparking red energy.
The woman, looking down and seeing this, yelped in alarm and jumped to her feet. She stared down at her breasts and waved her hands above the glowing semen. “What is happening?” she practically screamed.
As his dick went limp King Teddem leaned back in his throne, stretching and putting his hands behind his back. “The goddess HAS been watching over you,” he said with a chuckle, smiling as those in the room watched his royal seed shimmered then disappeared from sight. “You were not correct in how one normally worships Ynara,” he declared to the confused woman who stood before him with her tits hanging out. “But when you spread my seed on your breasts it pleased Ynara none the less. She hungrily takes any man’s seed when given to breasts in her name.”
He paused and waved her away. She quickly tucked her breasts back into her bodice and disappeared to the back of the crowd.
“A pattern does appear to be forming,” he declared loudly and firmly. “Yet it seems the luck of the gods may be with your clan. Perhaps today will not end in your clan’s erasure from history. Perhaps this will be a learning moment and when you leave today your clan will be more loyal to the throne while understanding the power of these new gods.”
This had been the main hope of his advisers. They had prepared for violence and accepted the possible loss of such a large and prominent clan because the message such an event would send would do much to ensure the rest of the clans would fall in line. The Priestesses, however, had thought what was currently happening to be more likely. The clan would see the power of Ynara and Azel in action and realize their survival rested on converting and submitting fully to the crown. But what happened next neither of the Priestesses had predicted.
Before King Teddem could call for the next woman to come to him the middle-aged woman who seemed to be in charge of the clan stepped forward. “I will be next,” she declared confidently.
“And who are you?” the king asked, surprised and intrigued she’d come forward with such confidence.
“I am Cidwa Redspine, wife of Doselrug Redspine who is the head of our clan.”
That explains much, the king thought. The wife rules, using the husband as her pawn. But no… that doesn’t feel right. He concentrated on the connection his runic crown gave him to those under his rule, trying to focus it on the woman. Her will was strong and he was only able to pick up the vaguest of truths.
She began approaching the throne, letting down the front of the dress she wore to display her breasts. The king was momentarily distracted by how pleasing they were. He had expected them to be less firm than they were revealed to be. This woman might no longer be a youthful beauty but her body remained more Dwarvenly fit than most her age and the confidence and sexual experience of her life almost certainly made up for what her age had taken from her.
This is a woman that would be a true joy to take to my bed for more than just prayer, the king thought as he stared at the woman approaching him. He barely noticed that he was already hard again.
“And to whom shall we be praying?” he asked her, eager to hear the answer.
“We shall pray to both Ynara and Azel together, my Liege,” she declared, strutting up the dais and kneeling before the king.
Before he had time verbalize a response she’d grabbed his cock and began sucking it. She gave him messy, loud head. The sucking and slurping echoed through the throne room and the other women gathered became red-faced and started to shuffle awkwardly. Until recently public acts of sexual intercourse were unheard of and none of these women had ever seen another woman pleasuring a man, much less with such skill and enthusiasm.
The king was having a hard time paying attention to anything more than the pleasure he was feeling. She was good with her mouth and soon began using her hands too, making use of all the thick slimy saliva she was messily drooling onto his impressively long cock. She stroked his shaft with firm, sliding movements and used her thumbs to press down on the underside of his cock.
Just when he thought she’d forgotten about her breasts she let go of his cock and grabbed them, wrapping them tightly around his shaft. She spit into her cleavage before fully enveloping his cock then began moving her breasts up and down.
“Gods be praised, woman,” King Teddem moaned in surprise. No one besides the Priestess Julianna had come anywhere this close to pleasuring him so well with her breasts.
“No, Your Majesty,” Cidwa Redspine purred, “Ynara and Azel be praised.” She leaned down, pressing her face into her cleavage and beginning to suck on his cockhead as she kept working his shaft with her tits.
“Yes, yes, yes,” the king gasped. “Ynara and Azel be praised!” A moment later he was cumming. “PRAISE AZEL AND YNARA!” he screamed, cumming so hard he felt almost like he was going to blackout.
When he was done he went limp, his arms hanging over the side of the throne. He was breathing heavily, his chest heaving up and down, while his eyes remained closed. He felt completely drained, both physically and spiritually. He’d never cum while worshiping both gods at once that way. They’d both taken the faith he’d offered and together drained him to the core.
As he lay recovering Cidwa Redspine turned and began talking to the women of her clan. “This is the truth,” she declared, “that the king’s new gods are more powerful than those we used to worship. You all heard me when our clan met, how I told the men who ran our clan that this new way was THE way. You heard them dismiss me. You then saw where it led our clan. Lies! Deceit! I knew our mighty king would see through it. I told you all of the truth-vision the new crown gives our rightful lord!”
King Teddem had recovered slightly and was listening to the woman as she spoke to her clan, surprised and impressed by what he was hearing.
“I told my dear husband how today would go. That the lies he had been telling would damn the entire clan. He admonished me for disagreeing publicly with his decisions as clan leader. ‘This is not the way,’ he declared. ‘You act as though you challenge me for leadership of the clan,’ he said. ‘But you cannot because you are just a woman. This is the way,’ he said, citing the traditions of our clan.”
She turned and spat on the ground. “Traditions be damned,” she declared, causing all to gaps. King Teddem was shocked as well. Even he had not been this blunt and crude about tossing the traditions of his people away.
“We live in the now. We will no longer be slaves to tradition. The Shadow Mountains change and we must change with them.” She turned and reached out towards the king, making eye contact and waiting just a moment till he nodded for her to continue. “This is our king,” said continued speaking to the crowd while keeping eye contact with him. “King of the Shadow Mountains and in time he shall be king of even more lands!
“THIS is the way,” she declared as she looked back to the women before her. “We shall abandon tradition. We shall back the crown fully, for the might and glory of King Teddem is the might and glory of all his subjects. We shall embrace his gods as our own and we shall abandon the worship of our ancestors. And we shall shun any clan that does not do as we do. And finally, we will no longer be slaves to our men. The women of this clan have always been its spine, the support for all we’ve done and endured. The men were shunted away, out of the king’s sight for he could sense they were the least important half of our clan. Today we proclaim proudly that women shall henceforth lead this clan!”
Many of the women cheered at her words. King Teddem sat in silence, impressed and eagerly waiting for Cidwa’s speech to continue. She’d planned this, he thought. She’d learned how to pray to my gods and kept the knowledge to herself. This isn’t just about the survival of her clan, this is a coup!
“Today I claim the mantel of head of clan. I, a woman, now lead this clan!” she declared, confirming the king’s last thought. “And as clan leader, I say we prove our new devotion to our mighty king by continuing the task he has set forth for us.”
She paused for a moment then pointed towards a woman standing in the front of the gathered crowd. “You, Nugfi, come here. You’ve bosoms clearly blessed by Ynara. Come open your bodice and pray with our king. I know you do not know the way.” She turned and made eye contact with king Teddem as she continued talking. “None of you knew how to pray to Ynara or Azel, you all refused. But I learned. And I shall help you all learn as well.”
King Teddem grinned and nodded at Cidwa, impressed by what he was seeing and letting her know that. She nodded back, the nonverbal conversation they had just had with subtle expression saying more than words could ever have.
The Dwarven woman that revealed her breasts and approached the throne was pretty, with darker skin than most of the others of the clan. Her breasts were large and pleasing to the king and the sight of them sent blood rushing back to his member. The emptiness he’d felt after being drained of faith was filling back in as if his arousal acted to craft his faith. It was not the first time he had felt this way and doubted it would be the last.
Cidwa Redspine wrapped her arms around Nugfi’s shoulders and led her up the dais then pressed her down on her knees before the king. “Relax,” she whispered into the nervous woman’s ear. “This is the way. Let us show you.”
She looked into King Teddem’s eyes, her expression making it clear she knew he’d noticed her use of the word “us”. As she smiled and stared unflinchingly into his eyes she wrapped her arms around Nugfi and grabbed hold of her large breasts.
“Here, lift them like so. Yes, now move closer to the king. Just like that, my dear. And now you place your hands here and before you press your breasts around the royal member spit on your chest to provide lubrication. You want this to feel good for His Majesty. Now pressed tight and start to bounce them as so. Very good.”
She withdrew her hands from the woman’s breasts then placed them on the top of her head. She pushed the woman’s head down towards her breasts. “Lean forward like this and open your mouth. Take his royal cockhead into your mouth and suck. Yes, good girl, use your tongue as well.”
“Now here’s the most important part,” Cidwa said into Nufi’s ear while keeping eye contact with King Teddem. “Now that you have begun do not think of yourself. Do not even think of your king. Think of the goddess Ynara. These breasts are a gift from her and to pleasure a man with them is to worship her. Think of the pleasure you are giving and use that to fuel your faith in her power. Think of her and send that faith to her so that her power can grow and so that you and this man’s favor in her eyes will grow as well.”
After pausing to let Nufi begin doing as she told her to do she continued. “And as you feel him nearing climax you must say the words of the goddess’ prayer. Whisper it with me now, say the words as I say them and learn the prayer well for you will use it every chance you get after this day.”
“Praise be to Ynara,” Cidwa began, Nugfi whispering and parroting the words along with her, “goddess of fat tits and bringer of all mammary pleasure. May she bless this coupling, may it please her and our faith manifest in our sexual pleasure flow into her divine being. May this please her, and allow our worship to continue…”
As they finished the prayer Nufi gasped then moaned in surprised pleasure. “It feels so good,” she moaned, sounding confused.
“That is one of Ynara’s many blessings,” the king grunted back.
“Yes,” Cidwa said, “with Ynara’s blessings upon your breasts having a man fuck them will feel as good as if he were making use of your womanhood.”
Suddenly both the king and Nufi shuddered and gasped. “Ynara be praised,” they both shouted as they both came together.
Cidwa had pulled back before that happened, letting the moment be just between Nufi, the king, and their goddess.
King Teddem was feeling drained and it took him some time to recover. He struggled to remain awake, feeling blissfully sated and physically spent. When he finally forced his eyes back open he found the woman, Nufi, had returned to the crowd but Cidwa was still there.
She knelt beside his throne and lifted a glass bottle into sight, its contents glowing faintly as the yellow fluid within bubbled. “Here, Your Majesty, one of the reinvigoration potions your Arms were holding for you.” When King Teddem was revealed to be too weak to hold the potion himself Cidwa helpfully did it for him, holding it to his lips and pouring some into his mouth.
When half the potion was gone she put the cap back on and set it beside the throne. The magic of the potion would work quickly but in the short time before it did Cidwa Redspine moved in close and whispered into the king’s ear. “I plan on making this as enjoyable for you as I can. I only ask that you remember my clan in future days when you need support from within your kingdom as you look outside its current borders to forge it into a greater empire.”
She’d pulled away and stepped off the dais by the time the potion had worked its rejuvenating magic on the king.
He sat up and blinked, feeling completely refreshed and full of energy. “Who is next?” he asked, eager to begin praying again.
Cidwa nodded to the king then looked out to her fellow clanswomen. “So many of you left to worship with the king, so many of you left to educate. Let us choose one of the youngest now, yes?” She looked over the nervous faces before her then pointed to one. “You, Hingid, come forward!”
Young indeed, King Teddem thought as he watched Hingrid come forward. Barely a woman grown, this one. If not for the fact that I had made it clear I wanted only those who were past the age of adulthood I’d not have thought she was old enough to be here.
She was small and thin for a Dwarven woman, her breasts barely noticeable by her race’s standards. The young woman also had a very bookish look to her, something that went beyond the glasses she wore. The nervousness and uncertainty she displayed only added to her youthfulness.
Cidwa wrapped an arm around the girl’s waist and walked her towards the king.
“Are you still a maiden?” the king demanded. Even he had his limits and he suddenly did not wish this moment to be the young woman’s first.
She blushed furiously and stared at the ground. “No, Your Majesty,” she said barely loud enough for him to hear.
He reached out as she replied, using the power of his runic crown to judge the truth of her words. Hingid was young and naive and weak-willed which allowed him to see into her mind more clearly than he normally could. She had spoken truth and he saw in his mind her memories and nervous, fumbled sexual encounters with a Dwarf only a little older than her. He saw that their sexual encounters, although unskilled, had thrilled her far more than she had expected and that she was eager for more.
Satisfied, he called her forward. “Who shall we be praying together to?” he asked her.
It was Cidwa that answered. “Young Hingid has clearly not been blessed by Ynara,” she answered, glancing at the woman’s chest. “It is Azel she shall pray to through you.”
King Teddem was uncertain how he felt about the way Cidwa Redspine seemed to have taken charge of the proceedings. There’ll be time enough later to consider how to deal with this ambitious woman. There would be nothing to be gained by undermining her now, especially not after she’s allied herself with me so strongly.
“Come, Hingrid, kneel before the king,” Cidwa said softly as she led the young Dwarf up the dais. She pressed the girl down onto her knees then knelt beside her, an arm wrapped tightly around her. “There is no need to be nervous,” she cooed softly into the girl’s ear while looking up at the king. “This is a moment you will one day want to tell your children about, the day you were lucky enough to pray with our king. This is a great honor, and in public no less! He truly favors our clan.”
Clever woman, King Teddem thought. She’s turning something that could easily have shamed her clan into a boon. She will surely work to ensure the women of her clan think of this event this way. She’ll probably play up its importance to those outside her clan even more.
Hingid was shaking and unsure where she should be looking. The king’s manhood was inches from her face, hanging flaccidly over the front of the throne. “I don’t know what to do…” she whispered.
“It’s okay,” Cidwa whispered, stroking Hingrid’s face with the back of her hand. “I will help and together with our mighty king’s aid you shall learn how to worship Azel.”
Cidwa looked up at the king and began to reach for his manhood, moving slow enough to give him the chance to tell her no. He nodded to her, not sure what she planned to do with his member but eager to find out. The anticipation was such that blood had finally begun to flow to his royal cock.
“Lean your head back, like this,” Cidwa said to young Hingrid, grabbing her long hair and gently, but firmly, pulling back till the girl was looking straight up at the ceiling. “Now move closer and let the focus of your new faith be placed on your face.”
She moved the girl closer to the king then grabbed his still mostly flaccid dick and draped it over her face. The king’s length was enough to leave his cock running over the girl’s lips, past her nose, over her glasses, and onto her forehead.
“Kiss it,” Cidwa whispered just loud enough for King Teddem to hear.
Hingid nervously did as she was told, puckering her lips and kissing the underside of King Teddem’s manhood. The look of nervous awe on the girl’s face combined with the gentle, pleasurable tickle of her lips caused an almost instant response. The cock draped over her face swelled, growing thicker and more rigid with every beat of the king’s heart.
“Good girl,” Cidwa whispered. “Now kiss it again, but this time with meaning. It’s your king’s manhood on your face, after all. Do not kiss it the way you kiss that silly boy I’ve seen you with. This is a man, the greatest man in all the Shadow Mountains.”
Hingid kissed the underside of his cock again, this time slowly and with her eyes closed.
“Again. But this time it is not just your king’s cock you will be kissing. It is also the divine representation of Azel made flesh in our world. When you kiss it this time you will not just be kissing your king’s cock, but that of a god as well.”
She’s good, King Teddem thought, shivering in pleasure as the nervous young Dwarf softly kiss his cock then lick it, kissing it more deeply. Soon she was licking and kissing and sucking on the underside, her cheeks flush and shaking from excitement now. He saw that one of her hands had disappeared up her skirt and suspected she was playing with herself.
King Teddem quickly grew fully erect and before long a steady stream of thick precum was leaking from his cockhead onto the girl’s forehead. Hingid didn’t notice. It was clear that for her nothing existed but the king’s cock. She was licking and sucking and kissing his shaft as if it was the most beautiful, precious thing in existence and she did so with reverence fitting a god.
She’d discovered faith in Azel, faith in cock, and it would forever change her.
Cidwa still had an arm wrapped around young Hingid. She was staring at the king and the next time he made eye contact with her she rose to her knees and leaned down towards the king’s cockhead. He thought she was going to take the tip into her mouth and join in but she stopped short. Instead, she licked the precum from the girl’s face then pulled back, moaning in delight as if it was the most delicious tasting thing in the world.
Oh, she’s VERY good, the king thought. I am going to enjoy the rest of this far more than I expected.
* * *
“This is a very interesting development,” Taya said after the king shared the details of what had happened in the throne room while they were off converting the men of clan Redspine. “This Cidwa is an unexpected boon.”
Julianna furrowed her brows. “I am not as certain as you that this woman is a boon. She is smart and ambitious, perhaps too much so.”
King Teddem was sprawled out naked on the opulent bed in his private quarters. The two Priestesses each sat on an edge of the bed on either side of him.
“Explain,” the king asked lazily. He was more sexually sated than he had ever been in his life. It had taken all afternoon and much of the evening to pray with every woman of the Redspine clan. He’d used every drop of the rejuvenation potions he’d had prepared and now all of the postponed physical exertion was catching up to him. It hadn’t just been the number of women that had left him so thoroughly satisfied, but the indulgent quality of each of the encounters once Cidwa had taken the lead.
“Well,” Julianna said, moving closer to the king and running a hand up one of his thickly muscled legs, “what if her ambitions are for more than the leadership of her clan? It is clear her strong support for you and our gods was all part of her play to gain control of her clan. But what if it is more than that?”
On the other side of the bed Taya laughed. “Oh, Julianna, do you think?”
“What?” King Teddem asked, sitting up and looking at his two trusted advisers. They did this often, so in tune with each other’s thoughts that he was left feeling as though he was only hearing a part of their conversation.
“Julianna is suggesting this Redspine woman has ambitions for a more meaningful alliance with the throne.”
“I don’t understand,” King Teddem replied dumbly, annoyed he couldn’t see what they saw. It’s the damn rejuvenation potions, he thought bitterly. Why the alchemists have not concocted something more effective when needing to be sexually active for as long as I was frustrates me. With the power of magic one should be able to fuck for days or weeks if one had enough potions!
“She may be ambitious enough to try and earn a throne beside yours,” Julianna said. “She may very well be using her control of her clan as just a stepping stone to becoming your queen.”
King Teddem was shocked only for a moment, but thinking back on what had happened he could easily see the woman’s ambitions being that strong. “What are we to do about this?” he asked, not noticing that he hadn’t bothered to try and think of an answer on his own.
“For now nothing,” Taya replied, reaching out and running a hand up his other leg the way Julianna already had.
“She and her clan are useful for now, as are her ambitions,” Julianna said, climbing all the way onto the bed then beginning to take her green robes off. “She is setting a clear example for the rest of the clans. Even those that have supported you from the beginning could be made more loyal, both to you and our gods.”
“We should wait and watch,” Taya added as she climbed on the bed and began undressing as well. “With our counsel you’ll be able to decide what is best for you and your kingdom as matters unfold.”
“Now let’s take time to stop worrying,” Julianna cooed, moving closer to the king. “You’ve had a busy, draining day. Let us help you relax.”
“And pray?” he asked. He was not just physically drained but spiritually drained as well.
“No,” Taya purred. “No more prayer from you today. This will be just for you. Let us serve our king and ‘relax’ you to sleep,” she said, reaching for his manhood.
As tired as he was he knew he’d respond to her touch. These perverse priestesses have carnal power behind their touch, he thought happily. They could probably get a dead man to rise to their touch. I, of course, am no dead man. I will enjoy this and thank them when I wake…
* * *
Julianna and Taya had slipped out of the king’s bedroom once he was asleep. The day had been long and eventful and they had much to discuss. They could have gone anywhere for their meeting but ended up heading to the throne room. Something drew them there and both women, thanks to their devout faith, knew it was important to follow such feelings.
They were alone in the huge throne room, only a few wall scones providing dim illumination. The chairs made for them were still next to the throne but neither woman sat in them. They wanted to be close and knew that even though the throne room was empty it would be best to keep their voices quite less they be overheard. So instead they stood before the dais the throne sat on.
“Dear Taya,” Julianna began, “I have a question for you.”
“Ask away, my sister of Corruption,” Taya replied.
“Is it that we and The Corruption have such control over King Teddem that his every move aligns perfectly with our master’s desires, or is it that we have stumbled upon a man whose deepest desires just happen to align with those of our master’s?” The laugh Julianna punctuated the question with made it clear she did not expect an actual answer, yet one came, just not from Taya.
“Yes,” a voice called out, echoing through the large throne room.
The two priestesses turned and saw a sliver of light as someone slipped into the room through a small side door. They got only the smallest glimpse of a thin, athletic female body before the door was closed behind the new arrival. The new arrival was left shrouded in shadow on the far side of the room away from Julianna and Taya.
Remaining hidden in shadow, the woman continued to speak. “All the gods work in mysterious ways, those infused with The Corruption most of all. Answers do exist, but whether our mortal minds can understand them is the real question. What is important is to remember that although we may pull the strings of the monarchs we advise puppet masters are pulling our strings. Gods direct us where we direct mortals. And there is only one god that can claim that they, above all others, represent the true will of The Corruption.”
The woman finally stepped out of the shadows into the dim light. She wore a revealing outfit that showed off her thin, fit body. Her skin was colored an unnatural, vibrant red. She had long, thick, wild hair that ran down past her waist colored platinum. Her eyes, glowing faintly, were pure white with not even the shadow of pupils or irises. Strangest of all were horns that grew out of the sides of her head and curved back into her wild, tangled white hair.
Stepping closer the Priestesses were able to get a better look at the clothing she was wearing. Her top was a strip of black cloth that was twisted diagonally over her shoulders twice, covering her small breasts in an x shape. She had on a long skirt that appeared to be made of ripped and tattered strips of thick black cloth that was held in place by a belt interwoven with the cloth at her waist. The “belt” was a long thick string covered in brown beads and red stones. Around her long, slender neck was a black leather collar, strings of beads, and red stones dangling down from it.
Both Priestesses smiled knowingly at the new arrival.
“Nerali the Red Priestess finally arrives,” Julianna said.
“Her presence was, of course, inevitable,” Taya added.
“Of course I was invertible,” the woman replied, remaining just a step outside the dark shadows behind her. “The Red God IS the will of The Corruption made manifest in Alaria. Baedor, God of Sexual Indulgence, leads the gods of The Corruption you both represent. How could you be here without my presence becoming inevitable?”
“Tomorrow,” she continued, “you shall introduce me to your perverse and corrupted king under the mountain and I shall introduce him to the perverse might of Baedor. Tonight, however, YOU are to be introduced to him.”
Both priestesses standing by the throne laughed. “We know all about the Red God, you silly overdramatic woman,” Taya said.
“Oh no, you do not understand,” Nerali the Red Priestess replied, stepping further away from the dark shadows behind her.
As she did those shadows seemed to grow darker, something large suddenly filling the unseen space. As the two Priestesses by the throne stared they saw that another figure was now looming tall and draped in shadows behind Nerali.
Julianna and Taya gasp and fell to their knees. “We understand,” they said in unison then bowed in reverence at the shadow.
Nerali chuckled. “You understand but you don’t yet see.”
With a laugh of mirth the Red Priestess began to dance. She moved her hips with chaotic sexual undulating thrusts and threw her arms out wildly twirling and swinging them. She thrust her chest out, arching her back and bending back before throwing her torso to the side or forward, accenting every curve of her svelte feminine form. Her hair flew in all directs as she skipped and twirled while her tatter skirt expanded around her as she spun more and more. With every moment that passed her body moved more wildly and with more speed. Soon she had skipped and spun to the center of the throne room.
The red gems she wore began to glow, radiating red light and power the two Priestesses standing in the room felt as an intense heat. The more light and heat the gems radiated the more the shadow standing in the far side of the room seemed to become more solid as if the power of the wild sexual dance were helping the thing come into focus.
Nerali was lost in the dance and it seemed like she had stopped being aware of the world around her. All that mattered was the moving of her body, the wild chaotic sexual dance. As she spun and twirled the red glow in the gems she wore started to flow out, gathering around her hands and leaving tracers of pure corruption behind.
The air in the room became still, the shadow in the corner growing gradually more solid. A burst of warmth exploded from the priestess’ wild moving body and spread suddenly through the room, arcs of red lighting shooting out and connecting with the throne and pillars and hanging tapestries and stones of the room. It all glowed as the power of The Corruption was infused into it, adding to what was already soaked into the room.
Nerali kept dancing, becoming a blur of flying white hair and glowing red stones and spiraling burning energy that became a glowing whirlwind around her. Red illumination radiated from her, bathing the room in bright crimson light. Only the part of the room where the shadow stood remained unlit.
The Red Priestess spun one last time, throwing her body back and bending so far back she was able to touch the ground with her hands. She pushed off from the floor, sending her thin, athletic body springing forward. She threw her hands out as she collected all the energy swirling around her. Then she leaped forward, thrusting her arms out towards the shadow. There was a flash of blinding red light and then a voice.
“I have arrived,” it boomed loud, echoing strangely through the room. The three women heard it as much in their minds as they did with their ears. “I am now manifest in the flesh here on the mortal realm.”
Baedor had been embodied as a huge and imposing figure. He looked much like a man, only much larger. His red-skinned body was covered in thick, rippling muscles that put even the strongest Dwarf to shame. His face was terrifyingly beautiful, demoniacally intimidating while also being hypnotically attractive. Large black horns extend from his head and curving back, shaped like the horns on his Priestess’ head.
“Baedor,” the three Priestesses said, coming together and bowing in unison before the mightiest of the gods of The Corruption.
He walked slowly towards them, looming above the three and leaving steaming prints of pure corruption wherever he stepped. The tallest of the Priestesses’ heads reached only to his waist. They were left face to face his gigantic cock which hung flaccid down past his knees.
“I come tonight to reward you for your services here in this place that is the center of our current plans. I come to reward you both and illuminate some of what is truly happening around you.”
“We must go somewhere more fitting,” Julianna said, still staring at the dick hanging before her.
“Yes,” Taya added quickly, her eyes remaining on the same sight, “one of the newly consecrated temples to Azel or Ynara. I know either of our gods would be overjoyed to have your physical presence within their temples.”
“There is no need for that,” Baedor proclaimed. “This is a throne room, the center of an already mighty kingdom that will one day be the heart of an even mightier empire if our plans come to fruition. THIS is my temple here.”
He strode to the throne. As he stepped up the dais and turned to sit his body shimmered as if it had suddenly become a mirage. When Baedor came back into focus his body was smaller, his body as large as it could by while sitting comfortably on the throne yet at the same time it looked as though the throne had also grown in size. Although his body was different the overwhelming presence he projected was not diminished.
As he got comfortable on the throne he waved a hand towards the three Priestesses sending a shimmering wave of red energy their way. As it washed over them everything they wore faded from existence and they were left completely naked.
“Much better,” Baedor proclaimed as he feasted hungrily on the sight of their naked bodies.
They all saw how pleasing the sight was to the god and they watched raptly as his huge cock swelled and began to rise. The harder it got the more transfixed they were with it. Nerali seemed the least affected, but the other two Priestesses’ eyes grew large and their expressions vacant. They began stumbling forward, drawn to Baedor’s overwhelming sexual presence. By the time they reached the dais their tongues hung out their mouths, drool dripping down onto their chests. Each of them had one hand on a breast to fondle herself while the other was tucked between their legs to play with their pussies.
Nerali remained a few paces behind the other two priestesses and in much more control of her mind than them. She smirked as she watched them stumble up the dais, grabbing their breasts and holding them up to Baedor.
“How can we please you,” Julianna asked.
“Take us any way you wish,” Taya added quickly.
“Wrap your tits around my godhood, you cocknotized-sluts,” Baedor boomed. “Pleasure me with your breasts.”
“Yes… breasts…” Julianna mumbled. “Breasts against cock…” she added as she began climbing up on one of his large legs. Once on him she pressed her breasts onto and around the god’s red shaft. She moaned in surprise as slippery lubrication formed under her breasts allowing her to begin sliding her tits up and down the towering length of his massive crimson cock.
Taya crawled between Baedor’s legs, licking the underside of his massive cock then pressing her firm breasts against it. His member was so large that both women had room to rub and lick it without getting in each other’s way.
“Very good, fuck-puppets,” Baedor said as if talking to a loyal dog. He leaned back in the throne, smiling at the sight of the powerful priestesses reduced to a drooling, cocknotized-bimbos.
A steady stream of precum began to leak from his cockhead and when the two women noticed they both moved to lap it up. “Do not fight, pets,” Baedor said in a firm, commanding voice. “Share as you pleasure me. But yes, indulge in the taste of my divine fluids.”
He then looked to Nerali and waved her forward. “Come my Priestess, come climb up here and find room. I desire the feel of your naked body against mine.”
Nerali did as she was commanded, climbing up his free leg and sitting in his lap. She pressed her back against his chest and spread her legs open, tucking one around Juliann’s body and draping the other over the side of the throne.
“What will you have of me?” Nerali asked, looking up at her god.
“What I always have: indulgence,” Baedor replied. “Decedent, sexual indulgence.”
He lifted his huge arms, placing a large red hand on Julianna’s wide, full ass and slipping a finger into her pussy. She moaned and continued to rub and lick his cock.
With his other hand he reached around Nerali, sliding his fingers down the front of her thin, well-muscled body. “A good Priestess, you,” he said as his fingertips slid past her belly button. “The body of a dancing whore. Firm. Flexible. Athletic. And what is this?” he asked as his fingertips reached her pussy.
“Yours,” she moaned, shuddering as he slipped a finger into her dripping wet cunt.
For a short time they remained that way, pleasuring their god as he pleasured them. The sexual delight they felt was not just experienced where he touched them, no, the pleasure the God of Sexual Indulgence brought did not need physical contact. Just to be in his presence brought sexual pleasure, and the closer one was to his corporeal body the more intense it became. Thanks to the aura of pleasure that hung around him all three women came multiple times before Baedor spoke again.
“Listen now, Priestesses,” he eventually said. “Continue to pleasure me. Continue to let me pleasure you. Indulge! But listen. There are things you do not know that you must know.
“Till now you’ve simply done what you always do: bring the faith of your gods to new lands and advise the local ruler in ways that help spread The Corruption. You are all good at what you do and there is still so much work to be done but it is time you were directed more clearly in what that work is.”
The three priestesses all moaned, signaling that they were listening.
“There are many gods untouched by The Corruption worshiped in these lands,” Baedor continued.” The faith that flows to them must either be cut off or they must themselves be corrupted. We gods of The Corruption are connected in a way the other gods of Alaria are not. When one of us grows strong so do the others. And you all know very well that the faith of mortals is what feeds us, what gives us power. To have complete control over these lands the corrupt gods must be the only ones worshiped.
“These Dwarves are already abandoning their ancestral gods. Every sliver of faith you find a way to deny them weakens them. And since they are only worshiped here in these Shadow Mountains their power will be easily snuffed out. We can slay these weak gods by starving them of faith but that is not necessarily the primary goal. If some or all of them could be tainted by The Corruption they could be reborn and accepted into our pantheon. Watch for moments and actions that can lead down this path and take them when possible.”
As the red god continued to speak Julianna and Taya shifted. They pressed their large breasts around Baedor’s shaft, sandwiching it between their overlarge tit-meat. They then joined hands and pulled their bodies towards each other, adding as much pressure to the massive cock between them as possible. As Baedor continued talking they moved as one, sliding their bodies up and down his shaft, moaning happily as they double-titfucked the god.
“As you help the Dwarven King solidify his control over the Shadow Mountains look also outward. Already I see what you’ve set up plans to control to the lands to the East, this place now called Arkiam. It is a land full of Humans. Their lives are short compared to most other races of Alaria but this is not a bad thing. The candle of faith within them burns brightest and a nation of Humans has an overabundance of faith to give. Always be working to bring those lands under the direct control of the corrupted Dwarven King.
“You must also counsel the king to act much more conservatively when matters look south. Iphasea and its Elven king are seeped deep with The Corruption but he does not realize this. For now it will be most advantageous two keep these two growing kingdoms at peace and working together. But do not let them grow too close! There may be a time when combining their lands under one rule will be best but that time is not now. Encourage the Dwarven king to look west, north, and east as he grows his kingdom into an empire, but NEVER south. Never to Iphasea and never to The Great Forest.”
Baedor paused, looking to the three women for some confirmation that they were still listening. Nerali still sat in his lap, legs spread wide and moaning in delight as he fingered her. “I hear you, Lord,” she moaned. “Never to Iphasea.”
“And never to The Great Forest,” Taya and Julianna said in unison as they continued to rub their tits and bodies up and down Baedor’s cock.
“Good girls,” the god said then continued. “The corruption we grow here is deep. We wish to change not just the hearts and souls of an entire kingdom but the very ground they live in as well. One hundred years from now we want these lands and people to be unrecognizable to those living now.
“What we are doing in Iphasea is different. Here we change all, the king and his people. In Iphasea it is more about individuals. The kinds of sexual perversions that run rampant in that brothel-filled city require the presence of many who are not as perverse as the masters who run it. It must remain a place that is respectable enough to draw corruptible individuals to it where they can then be changed. But to do so the kingdom cannot become as deeply perverse as this Kingdom will become.”
As they continued to listen to Baedor Julianna and Taya sensed a change in the mighty god. His cock was throbbing more, the huge pulsing veins more apparent. He was talking faster and was working Nerali’s pussy more vigorously. It wouldn’t be long before the god came and they all knew it.
“There are other reasons for this,” Baedor said, continuing his speech but doing so more quickly as if he was trying to finish what he had to say before the women finished him off. “The Great Forest shall remain unclaimed by either growing kingdom. It harbors secrets that I shall soon reveal. What is important now is the knowledge that the forces and individuals that oppose The Corruption must not feel hopeless when they look at the lands around them. Let the north become a wall of perversion they dare not break through, and let the other lands around them seem safe.
“And now I reveal the secret, the reason we corrupt gods have focused so much of our attention here. Hidden within the Great Forest is the Fey Queen Faeven and her army of ‘feminine might’. We have led them to The Great Forest, although they did not realize that. Once the queen was near enough to Iphasea and the brothels there we knew she’d remain focused on it. The longer she remains here the more obsessed with ‘liberating’ the women in those brothels she will become.”
When he had begun talking about Queen Faeven he’d started talking even faster. The three priestesses could feel how the very thought of the pure, untouched woman who opposed the forces of The Corruption excited him.
“We could easily snuff her army from existence but we choose not to. It is more fun this way. We desire righteous forces whose hearts and souls are innocent of sexual perversion and The Corruption. There will always need to be beings and places to corrupt and we ensure this even as our power grows. The fun is in the war and we pull the strings to ensure the war never ends.
“Eventually the Fey Queen and her army will fall. We corrupt gods are sending countless playful perversions her way. Every fight she wins only stretches out the enjoyment of corrupting her and the women she leads. But there is no chance she will be victorious. She can win battles but winning the war… that is impossible,” he gasped, suddenly unable to continue talking.
The moment of Baedor’s climax had arrived, all three women could feel it.
“Cum for us, mightiest of perverse gods,” Nerali moaned, reaching up and wrapping her arms around Baedor’s neck. She pulled herself up against his body, flipping herself upside down then shoving her pussy in his face. As his tongue began working her cunt she wrapped her athletic legs around his head, gasping and moaning in delight.
At the same time Julianna and Taya kept working his cock, moving up and down more quickly, then slowing as they felt his body tensing. They pulled down, letting his massive cockhead stick up between their pressed-together cleavage.
“Cum for us, Lord of Perversion. Indulge in the pleasure we have shared,” the three women said in perfect unison, beginning a moment of true divine revelation.
All three mortal women screamed in pleasure as the world around them became a swirling mix of disorienting pleasure. They felt their souls connect to Baedor, felt him looking into them and judging their deeply perverted selves as worthy. As decedent sexual pleasure flowed into every inch of their bodies the faith they produced with every living breath flowed out into him.
Baedor moaned in pleasure as he began to cum. The moan was deafening to those in the room and it shook the Shadow Mountains to their very core. The quake startled and woke many but it caused no damage, it only shifted things to allow The Corruption to spread more easily through the people and earth of the surrounding area.
Vast quantities of thick cum began to spurt and flow out of his cockhead. It was like a bubbling volcano of sexual fluids that splattered all over Julianna and Taya’s faces. It pooled up around his cockhead, forming a rising pool of semen between their breasts till it overflowed and began oozing thickly down their breasts.
“Baedor be praised!” they all called out.
The world blurred and shifted around them again and when it came back into focus Baedor was gone and the three priestesses were left standing in the center of the throne room sweaty but clothed.
Julianna and Taya were disoriented and confused.
“Was that only a vision?” Julianna asked, pulling open the front of her robes and looking down at her breasts. “I was covered in his divine seed but there is not a drop on me now.”
Taya said nothing. She dropped to her knees and began praying to Azel, muttering madly about how her time working Baedor’s godhood had been time that she’d been also worshiping the God of Cock.
“It was no vision,” Nerali said softly. “But the physical presence of a god takes its toll on the minds of mortals, even those that shower the god with their faith. The gods are not meant to exist physically on Alaria. They are meant to shape the world, yes, but with their divine influence, not a physical one. When they do affect the world with a physical presence it will try and shift back to how it was before they took form in Alaria.”
It took the three women all night to recover from what they had happily endured. When dawn came they rose rested and ready to continue their work and that would begin with Nerali’s introduction to King Teddem.
They had decided the night before how it would play out. Using silken lies the two advisers to the king claimed in the morning that they had heard word of Nerali’s approach via raven and that they knew only that she was a Priestess Baedor. “We may have met her before but then again we may not. Many Priestesses such as her serve the same purpose we do, going from kingdom to kingdom to offer advice.”
Once they had explained Baedor was the God of Sexual Indulgence and what that entailed the king had eagerly agreed to be waiting for her arrival upon his throne with the full court in session. “If you are to embrace yet another new god it must be with majestic open arms for all to see,” they had told him, pointing out the growing troubles coming from those who still worshiped the old gods.
Nerali made sure her introduction to king and court was memorable to all who saw it. As she entered the throne room she wore a black cloak that hid everything about her. King Teddem had called her forward and asked her to confirm her identity. Speaking just loudly enough for him and those nearest she revealed her name and that she was a Priestess of Baedor.
“My two advisers proved the power of their gods,” King Teddem had said. “I expect you to do the same.” They were words that Julianna and Taya had planted in his head, although he was not aware of this.
“Then I shall prove Baedor’s power,” Nerali had declared loudly. A moment later she threw her cloak off, causing gasps from those gathered. She was a tall woman and her red skin was something none in the Shadow Mountains had ever seen before. Her revealing outfit and her wild, bright white hair only added to the sense of exotic shock.
“I shall prove Baedor’s power,” she called, louder than the last time. She held her hands up and muttered a quick prayer, causing glowing sparking red energy to start gathering around her hands.
A moment later she began dancing. She threw her body about the center of the throne room, spinning and twisting and throwing her arms out with wild abandon. It was a style of dance none of the Dwarves had ever seen, wild past their imagining. The way she moved her lithe body exuded unrestrained sexuality that none had witnessed before.
Soon she had begun to spin, her skirt flying out around her. The red energy gathered around her hands began to flow around her, forming a tornado of power that reached out and awed those in the room. The faster Nerali spun the more energy flowed around her. Before long all in the room were stepping back, the power she was radiating frightening all but the king and his advisers.
Bursts of crimson lightning started forming around Nerali and the energy her dance was summoning. As the lightning grew more intense the lights in the room began to dim and the Dwarves in attendance began to mutter in concern.
A moment later the crimson lightning began to reach out from the swirling whirlwind of power that the spinning, dancing Priestess had become. With each crack of lightening the lights in the room dimmed more and soon there was only the red of the spinning energy around Nerali and the flashes of light the lightning brought with it.
The lightening reached further and further out from Nerali and wherever it struck it left glowing red energy. Before long that energy was seeping into every surface in the throne room, every stone and pillar and tapestry. The floors and walls and ceiling glowed with pulsing red power.
“See the might of Baedor!” Nerali screamed, her words echoing in the minds of all gathered. An explosion of divine power filled the room and red lightning connected with every being in the room. At once everyone’s minds were connected and they were all given the same vision.
They saw The Shadow Mountains from above. The clouds parted to reveal the snow-covered peaks and from this bird’s eye vantage they saw red energy burst into being in the heart of the mountains where the king’s throne room was. The red energy grew in intensity, reaching out in bursts to infuse the mountains and earth around it.
“The might of your kingdom shall grow,” a booming voice sounded in all their minds as they watched the pulsing red spread through all of the Shadow Mountains. “It is your people’s destiny to forge a mighty empire,” the voice continued as the crimson power of their kingdom began reaching out in all directions. They saw the lands to the East now known as Arkiam fall under the growing red power. They saw the Great Forest and the uncharted lands to the north and west fall too. And finally they even saw the influence overtake Iphasea to the south.
In the minds of the king and his Dwarven citizens the meaning of the vision was clear: the red was their new kingdom growing into an empire. It would be the story they would spread about their divine revelation. The three Priestesses, however, knew that their interpretation was not quite right. It was the spread of The Corruption that had been revealed to them.
When the Dwarves in the room recovered from the vision Nerali was kneeling on the floor below King Teddem’s throne. “I offer my services to you and your great kingdom. My god sees great things for both and I have shown you what that could look like. Accept my services and embrace Baedor.”
King Teddem smiled down at her. “Before I make my decision I ask only one question: How does one pray to Baedor?”
Nerali smiled up at the king, knowing the truth of his deeply perverse heart. “How does one pray to the God of Sexual Indulgence? In any way that IS sexually indulgent. You need not even think of him, you need not even know Baedor exists. Faith flows to him during every indulgent act of sexual joy. You have already embraced him. All that remains is to say the words.”
“Then I say them now,” King Teddem proclaimed. “I embrace Baedor and accept you, his Priestess, as an adviser.”
* * *
“What brings such an esteemed merchant all the way from the heart of the Shadow Mountains to Iphasea?” King Jennenes asked of the Dwarf standing before him in court.
“Well, Your Majesty, I’ve come to your great city for matters of both business and pleasure,” the Dwarf replied.
“Business? Yes, that makes sense,” Jennenes replied. “You are representing clan Greatbelt?”
“Yes, Your Liege,” the Dwarf replied, bowing slightly. “My clan has been at the center of the Shadow Mountain’s merchant class for a very long time. We’ve had business dealings with Iphasea since its foundlings and the trade between our peoples has increased significantly since your rule began.”
Jennenes nodded. “Once it was ore you brought to my kingdom, with money flowing back to the Shadow Mountains in return. But that is not as true as it once was.”
“No, Your Majesty,” the representative of clan Greatbelt replied. “As our two lands have grown and matured the manner of our trade has become more advanced. It is no longer a simple system of one raw material for coin. Trade flows both ways with an ever-changing collection of raw materials, trade goods, and skilled laborers.”
“And unskilled labor,” King Jennenes added with a laugh. “The disgraced Dwarven women your king has been sending me has allowed the number of brothels in my city to increase at a pace even I find shocking at times.”
“Yes,” the Dwarf replied, nodding eagerly. “And as the number of Dwarven sex workers in your city increase so does the need for articles of Dwarven fashion. I was happily surprised to see those fashions have begun to spread to all the citizens of your great city.”
“Indeed,” King Jennenes said, sounding less pleased. “Iphasea is becoming a place where the traditional fashions of Dwarves, Elves, and Humans have begun to mix into something unrecognizable.”
“You should not look at such a mighty boon with distaste.”
King Jennenes sat up then leaned forward. “Explain,” he demanded.
“Well, Your Majesty, there are a few things you should consider that you may have overlooked. The first being that a mixing of fashions can only end in increased wealth for all involved. As new fashions are adopted they require local shops to import a more diverse selection of sartorial supplies, fabric and dyes and jewelry that must be brought from merchants far away. These merchants bring the supplies here, bringing coin back with them and ensure a growing bond with those people. At the same time, local merchants who then craft and sell these garments bring increased commerce to Iphasea that I am sure Your Majesty has already begun to tax.”
“True,” Jennenes said, internally cursing that he’d not passed more new taxes to take advantage of the situation. I’ll be sure to change that, he thought.
“And as these fashions from foreign lands spread through your city the local population will begin to mix and match them. Before long the people of your city will not be wearing fashions from the Shadow Mountains or Arkiam. Soon those will mix with the traditional Iphasean fashions to create something new and unique. And THAT will allow local merchants to start sending their sartorial creations back to the place they once only imported clothing and materials from.”
“This… is an interesting interpretation of current events.” Jennenes did not like admitting when he had overlooked something, especially not while court was being held. “You’ll have to converse further on this subject with some of my advisers before you leave. Is this why you’ve come to Iphasea, to get a firsthand look at this mixing of cultures?”
“Oh, no, Your Majesty. It was not something I came looking for, rather it was an opportunity I only now have noticed. No, I came for a very specific reason: the procurement of these new and astounding potions your kingdom has begun to sell. I come to procure as many Iphasean Potions of Virility as my coin can buy.”
Jennenes glowed. “Well, I am happy to say we’ll be able to provide you with as many as you can afford. We’re producing the potent potions in quantities I would have thought impossible mere weeks ago.”
The Dwarf smiled knowingly. “King Teddem shared secret knowledge with me before I left the Shadow Mountains, explaining the main ingredient in this most wondrous of potions. He even bestowed upon me a message to deliver to one of the, uh, ‘cows’ you draw the milk that forms the base of these potions.”
Jennenes frowned, unhappy the Dwarven king had shared this knowledge with anyone. That unhappiness had been pushed aside as the Dwarf spoke of the message he carried with him. The only being the message could be for was the thing that was once the Dwarven king’s daughter and was now a cow-like creature named Fuckmeat.
“Is this a written message?” the king asked, eyes narrowed.
“Oh no, Your Majesty, nothing like that. The king just wishes for me to look upon this cow and with my own eyes confirm her fate. Then I am to whisper the message to her, one from my king saying her fate pleases him.”
He could be lying, Jennenes thought. But to what ends? Fuckmeat has no chance of ever being what she once was nor do I think the Dwarven king’s wrath has subsided. No… this is just as the man before me says. Teddem wishes to rub salt in Fuckmeat’s mental wounds. Well, let him. The dumb cow might not even have enough mind left to understand the message.
“Once our meeting is over I shall have Meedard Dupont, High Capatian of the Dairy Guard take you to the Dairy Farm so that you can deliver your message.”
The Dwarf bowed. “I’ve another boon to ask of His Majesty. When I confirm the… cow is who she is, may I be allowed to have a potion brewed from just her milk? I am willing to pay triple the normal price.”
“As you will,” Jennenes said with a wave. “Are there any other matters you have to discuss?”
“I had heard you’d taken a bride and was surprised not to see the new queen sitting beside you.”
“She is not yet prepared to be part of public life,” Jennenes said, his voice cold and lacking any emotion. “Is there anything else?”
“No, Your Majesty,” the Dwarf said, bowing one last time.
* * *
How very strange, Tradrem Greatbelt thought as he left the throne room, following the flamboyantly garbed High Captain of the Dairy Guard. Why has this Elven king let word of this unseen queen spread? Is she even real? If not what would be gained by inventing her? And if she is real why keep her hidden? I’ll need to keep an ear to the ground while I finish my stay in this city, perhaps there will be rumors to hear and bring back to King Teddem.
“You should realize what a great honor is being bestowed upon you,” the tall, black-haired captain said to the much shorter Dwarf. “You will be the first person outside the king and the Dairy Guard who has been let into the Dairy Farm.”
“I had not realized so few had been allowed in,” Tradrem lied, having known ahead of time the truth. He’d been surprised when the Elven king had granted him the boon, expecting him to refuse. Perhaps Jennenes is a better ally than King Teddem believes.
“How far away from the palace is this Dairy Farm?” Tradrem asked.
“It is actually here within the palace,” the captain replied.
That would explain why none of our spies have been able to locate it, Tradrem thought. King Teddem’s spies had been looking for a literal farm but knowing what the “cows” really were Tradrem realized how silly that was. Why wouldn’t they be kept in the Palace? Where else would be safer?
Tradrem wasn’t sure what to expect. He knew the “cows” in the “farm” were Nemorvians. There were rumors that not all of them had always been Nemorvians, something seemingly proven by the fate of the woman he was coming to visit.
When the captain opened the guarded door into the farm Tradrem was shocked by how large of a room was revealed. At first glance he guessed the room had once been a ballroom or a huge dining hall. The door he’d been let into exited to a second-floor balcony that looked down on the operation, giving him a clear view of everything.
The second thing that shocked him was just how many Nemorvians were contained in the large room. He’d always been led to believe the strange race of bovine women were a rarity. Then Tradrem remembered what good prostitutes the women made. That made the horde of Nemorvians spread out before him make a little more sense.
But what had the cost been for the king to purchase them all? Tradrem thought as he stared down at them all, slack-jawed. It must have come close to bankrupting his treasury.
Then he remembered the fortune he’d brought with him to purchase the shipment of the potions these women were being used to create. No, he thought, even if it did come close to emptying the Elven king’s treasury he’s surely already made that money back and more.
“Such a beautiful sight, is it not?” Meedard Dupont asked in his strange foreign accent.
“It’s… shocking,” Tradrem replied, still awed. “I had not expected so many. Nor did I expect the Nemorvians to be treated so much like… cattle. Those strange metal frames they are all strapped into, they look just like the ones I’ve seen used on real cattle in large farms. None of them are even clothed!”
Meedard chuckled. “Do not feel any kind of sympathy for the pathetic things. This is what these creatures were made for, only King Jennenes was able to divine the truth. It is a beautiful sight. I just wish there were ways to turn any women into the pathetic cows down there.”
Tradrem glanced wearily at the captain. He speaks about them as if they really were animals without any intelligence. And there is more to it. This strange foreign Human seems to hate all women.
“Where are you from?” Tradrem asked. “I cannot place your accent. Surely you are not from Iphasea or Arkiam.”
“I come from the kingdom of Capatia,” he replied, his voice suddenly cold. “A vile cursed land where women rule over men. No man has an easy life there and the Low Capatians like me have it even harder. Looking down at this I imagine the women of my homeland in these pathetic cow’s places and the thought…” He shivered as his voice trailed off, grinning happily down at them.
“You said you wished for a way to turn any woman into one of them,” Tradrem asked, waving at the Nemorvians. “Surely you know who I am here to see and surely you know her… history.”
“Oh, I know all about Fuckmeat,” he replied, chuckling again.
It took Tradrem a moment to realize he was using the crude word “fuckmeat” as a name. The princess’ fate is as dark as the rumors claimed, he thought.
“But if Jennenes could do it once,” Tradrem began to ask but was interrupted by a deep sigh from the captain standing beside him.
“Sadly it seems not to be a task that could be easily duplicated. I’ve spoken in length to the king about it and although I do not understand the arcane arts well he did make me understand the effort and raw magical recourses that went into Fuckmeat’s transformation. There were also things unique to her person and history that made the transformation possible. Perhaps with the right woman it could be done again, but the cost would be great. A woman would need to earn much wrath from the king for him to try such a transformation again.”
All good things to note, Tradrem thought. I’ll have much to report to King Teddem when I return to the Shadow Mountains.
“Come now,” Meedard said, moving from the balcony and heading towards a nearby staircase leading down to the floor below. “We will find Fuckmeat and you can deliver your king’s message to her.”
Tradrem tried to commit all he saw to memory as he was led down the stairs and onto the floor of the Dairy Farm. The Nemorvians were all held in place by a series of metal bars and leather straps, leaving them all on their knees with their arms pulled securely behind their backs. Their torso was kept level above the ground so their large breasts could hang down. Attached to all the women’s nipples were strange mechanical devices that seemed to be sucking the milk from their teats. Tubes connected these suction devices to casks that, as he walked past, he saw were full to varying degrees.
Men that Tradrem at first thought were armed guards walked up and down the lines of Nemorvians. As he watched them he decided that the men were more than simple guards. They would often stop and adjust the machinery attached to the bovine women or switch out casks full of milk for empty ones. The full casks were all being taken to the same door where Tradrem assumed the process of turning the milk into potent potions began.
“Not even an honored guest of the king is to be allowed in that room,” the captain said when he saw where Tradrem was looking.
“That is understandable,” the Dwarf replied. “It is common knowledge what the milk of a Nemorvian can do to a man. It is, after all, one of the reasons they are such valued whores. But the ‘refreshing’ power of that milk loses its potency nearly as soon as it leaves their breast. I will not ask for details of the process you’ve discovered to change that, turning the milk into a potion with no shelf life and that is even more potent than Nemorvian milk straight from the source. But I must ask, was the discovery an accidental one?”
“Even I do not know that answer,” Meedard Dupont replied. “King Jennenes is a monarch that enjoys his privacy. He holds court only when necessary and has his Majordomo take care of the majority of the day to day chores of governing Iphasea. Few servants are called for in the part of the palace he spends most of his time, and those that serve him know not to discuss his private matters with others.”
“Is that where his new queen currently resides?” Tradrem asked, knowing he was probably not going to receive an answer. As he expected, the guard captain changed the subject.
“Fuckmeat should be down this isle of Nemorvians. Although I may be wrong, sometimes their positions change. They are given breaks to take care of bodily functions. We also keep them well-fed, but they are not given much exercise.”
“I can see that,” Tradrem replied, looking at the Nemorvians they were passing. He knew their species was known for its thick, soft curves. These women, however, were even thicker. He also suspected whatever food and drink they were given was enchanted to ensure their breasts grew larger, for most of the Nemorvian’s he passed had breasts that were almost comically large.
“You are correct,” Meedard replied when Tradrem shared his assumption. “Much effort goes into keeping the cow’s milk flowing through as many hours of the day as possible. But it is not just the feed they are given that keeps their teats huge and heavy with their precious milk.”
Tradrem couldn’t help but feel a bit uncomfortable with the way the guard captain was talking about the Nemorvians. They truly seemed to be only cattle in his eyes.
“Ah, see, this is one of those other things we do to keep their milk flowing,” Meedard said, stopping and waving to a sight that shocked Tradrem.
One of the guards had walked up behind a Nemorvian and opened the front of his uniform to reveal his manhood. At least I know why their uniforms look so strange now, he thought, blushingly slightly as he watched the scene play out in front of him.
The Nemorvians were not positioned kneeling on the floor of the large room. Instead, they were all positioned on top of stone blocks. He’d assumed the blocks were there so the apparatus attached to the women’s breasts could more easily drain the milk into the casks below. Now, however, he saw the blocks served to position the women for easy access from behind.
He watched as the guard, dick in hand, stepped up to the Nemorvian and slapped her bare ass then spread her plump ass cheeks open and shoved his cock inside of her. The woman’s eyes rolled up in her head and she moaned as her body convulsed, seemingly cumming just from the man inserting himself into her.
“The cows are insatiable sluts,” Meedard said. “They are always happy to have a cock shoved in one of their holes. But we do not do it for their pleasure, or even ours, although it is a nice perk of being given a position here. We quickly discovered that being fucked regularly helps keep their teats producing ample milk. If we were to stay and wait for that man to finish you’d see him logging the time he fucked her on a small piece of parchment attached to her restraints. It’s our obligation to make sure they are all fucked on a regular schedule.”
Looking around the large room Tradrem could see a handful of guards stopping to fuck Nemorvians. “Do they wear fertility wards?” he asked, glancing at the leather collars the women all wore. Each had a cowbell attached, something he’d initially thought was simply a bit of extra humiliation the women were being made to endure. But perhaps the bells were enchanted?
Meedard laughed. “You do not know the race of cows well, do you? No, there are no precautions taken with them. It is rare that a Nemorvian becomes pregnant. But even if it weren’t, why would we stop the cows from being impregnated? Surely you know that a Nemorvian can only birth other full-blooded Nemorvians? The race of the father does not matter. Should any of these cows become pregnant it would simply be a boon.”
He stopped suddenly, bending over slightly and looking at the cowbell hanging from the nearest Nemorvian’s collar. “This is Fuckmeat,” he said, holding the bell to show Tradrem the name engraved on it. He took a step back, giving the Dwarf space to do what he had come to do.
Tradrem bent down to better look at the woman’s face. She showed no sign of being aware of his presence even after he placed a finger under her chin and pushed her face up to better look at it where saw a shocking lack of intelligence in her eyes.
This can’t possibly be the former princess, could it? But her face, he thought, looking more closely. The bovine horns growing out of her head were new as was the brownish tone of her skin but her body was far more Dwarven than all the others he’d seen. And her face, he thought again, this IS her!
Yet I need to be certain… that was my instructions from the king: that I must confirm from her lips the truth of her identity. But does this poor creature still have the capacity to speak?
Tradrem leaned in closer, putting his mouth near her ear. “Were you once the Teddem princess?” he asked her, avoiding using the name that had been expunged from all records and forbidden to be spoken. “I have to know. Are you her?”
She blinked and turned to look into his eyes, only a slight glimmer of intelligence appearing where none had been before. Slowly, as if she barely remembered how to do it, she spoke. “I…” she began then stopped, moving her mouth as if the act of speaking was alien to her. “I am… Fuckmeat.”
Tradrem tried not to let the frustration he felt show. If he could not accomplish the task his king had sent him on it would cause him and his clan deep shame.
He moved in closer and continued to whisper so only she could hear. “I know the truth. I know who you we—” He had started to say “were” but corrected himself, deciding a different word might get a better response from her. “I know who you ARE,” he told her. “Someone with a lot of money from the Shadow Mountains has sent me and wishes to confirm you still live.” It wasn’t a lie, but he suspected letting her know her father had sent him wouldn’t have been helpful.
She blinked again, looking at him and frowning. “S-shadow… Mountains?”
Tradrem found it fascinating watching her eyes as she spoke. It was like watching an animal’s mind become sentient.
“Shadow Mountains,” she said again. “Home… yes… I was…” She suddenly looked around, glancing at the guards she could see with confusion. Then she looked back at Tradrem. “Are you here to rescue me?” she asked.
“No,” he replied, standing up and taking a step back. The way she had asked the question had disturbed him. It was not a question of hope but… fear?
Could this thing called Fuckmeat truly be so lost it doesn’t even wish to be freed?
Tradrem knew he had his answer when he realized he had thought of Fuckmeat not as a “her” but as a “thing”.
“This thing is who I am looking for,” he told the captain of the guard.
He nodded then clapped, calling out for two of his men. He conversed with them for a moment then sent them off. “They will need to bring a fresh cask,” he told the confused Dwarf. “You are paying extra for a potion made ONLY of her milk. Often the casks are moved from one cow to the next when their teats begin to dry up. And the tubes, if you look, often join together, dripping the milk of many cows into one cask.”
“I appreciate your dedication to this task,” Tradrem replied, for the man did seem dedicated to his perverse duties with an almost fanatical zeal.
He knew he should be repulsed by the whole thing, by everything being done to these bovine women, but he wasn’t. There was something perversely thrilling about it all, something that was deeply arousing. The new gods we Dwarves have begun to worship have already changed me, he thought suddenly. Again, he felt he should feel bitter at that but he wasn’t. He LIKED how these new gods were changing the Dwarves of the shadow Mountains. If he didn’t he wouldn’t have been sent by the king to accomplish the special tasks he was now honor-bound to finish.
The guards returned with an empty cask and a large metal funnel. There was a small indentation in the floor under Feakmeat’s dangling udders that the cask fit in, keeping it in place. Once the cask was in place the men then put the funnel into it.
“We’ll be milking it by hand,” Meedard explained. “It’s faster than the devices we attach to their teats, but to milk so many on this scale machines must be used. Besides, the cows like being milked by hand a little too much for my liking.”
Tradrem watched the two guards kneel by Fuckmeat. They each reached up and detached the suction devices attached to her nipples. Then, with eager smiles on their faces, they each grabbed a breast and began working it. They started at the top, working their hands down the meaty bulk of the dangling tit and causing a shocking amount of white milk to come shooting out Fuckmeat’s nipples. It sprayed noisily into the funnel, quickly becoming a flood of white liquid swirling down the funnel into the cask below.
Shock was all Tradrem could feel as he watched the astounding amount of milk being expressed from the thing’s breasts. When they had brought the empty cask he’d thought it far too large. Now, however, he wondered if it were large enough.
He was shocked all over again when Fuckmeat began gasping in delight, moaning then shuddering as they continued to milk her. His mind had wanted to think that she was in distress, but the thought was self evidently impossible. The sounds of Fuckmeat’s indecent moans of pleasure growing gradually louder were unmistakable. Before long her eyes had rolled up into her head and her howls of pleasure grew so intense the sound no longer came from her mouth.
Gods! The cow is cumming from being milked!
Her massive breasts were not, he quickly discovered, an endless font of milk. When he’d walked up to Fuckmeat her tits had seemed impossibly large; dense and wide and heavy-looking. As he watched the men drain them it seemed like the tit-meat was being literally drained. Firm, full, fat tits were becoming soft, sagging more naturally. The milk coming out of them began to flow less freely as her tits grew visibly less full as well.
“She’s drying up already,” Meedard said, tutting in annoyance. “I am sorry, but this will not do. You are paying for a full case of potions made from this cow’s milk, we’ll need more than she’s given.”
The men milking her stopped, standing up and taking a few paces back.
“It is okay,” Tradrem said, “I know the potions take a few days to brew fully. Waiting another day or two for her to be ready for another milking is no worry. I have plenty of business in the city to attend to and had not planned on beginning my journey back to the Shadow Mountains for at least a week.”
“Oh, no, Ser Dwarf, you misunderstand,” the guard captain said, grinning down at Tradrem. He stepped between the block Fuckmeat and the Nemorvian beside here were on. As soon as he was behind her he pulled the cloth covering his dick to the side, grinning again at Tradrem.
Tradrem looked away but not before seeing that the man’s member was already hard.
If these men need to be fucking these cows all day and night I understand why their uniforms are designed like that. But they wear no small clothing underneath! Should they ever be attacked it is an obvious weakness that could be easily exploited. Then again… I did not realize the cloth served the function it does at first, I thought it just an odd choice of military fashion.
“Fuckmeat’s udders are some of the largest in the Dairy Farm,” the captain said as he positioned himself behind her. “But it is this plump, wide, fat ass I like most about it,” he added, slapping her ass so hard the sound must have been heard all through the large room. “It is the Dwarf in her,” he continued, grabbing his dick and lining it up with her pussy. “Transformed as it is, Fuckmeat’s true roots cannot be denied.”
Tradrem wasn’t sure if he should be offended by the way the Human was talking about Dwarves or flattered. If the man does enjoy a big ass he must find Human women lacking, he thought. Even the thickest of Human women’s back ends are lacking when compared to a Dwarven woman’s. And Human asses can be so soft! Such a weak race. Even the fattest of us Dwarves are as much muscle as fat.
He was brought back to the moment by the yelp of pleasure Fuckmeat barked as the guard captain slammed his cock into her. Once again her eyes rolled up into her head and she convulsed, cumming again.
It is like these bovine women are so oversexed that the slightest stimulation overwhelms them, Tradrem thought.
“The longer the cow is fucked the more full its teats will be when we begin milking her again,” Meedard huffed as he began slowly fucking her. “We all have practiced extending our sexual stamina to fuck them as long as we can before finishing in their filthy fuck-holes. I will be some time back here, but you, Ser, need not simply stand there as you wait. She has a fuck-hole on that end you stand by. Or perhaps you’d rather make use of her teats? If I recall, in its previous life Fuckmeat was quite famous because of them.”
Tradrem was amazed when he felt himself fumbling with his belt. Am I going to do this? Here in this place with all these men around me? Well, why not? They are all accustomed to seeing each other’s manhoods in action. Why not have some fun. And when I am I ever going to get a chance to fuck an ex-princess again?
By the time he had his cock out it was rock hard, although he was still feeling a bit self-conscious pulling it out with so many people near.
“Damn,” one of the guards who had been milking Feackmeat muttered. “Always heard Dwarf’s had long fucking cocks. But it’s something else seeing it. “
Tradrem grinned, pleased with himself and no longer feeling so self-conscious. Poor Humans, he thought, their men are so lacking in so many ways.
When he looked at Fuckmeat he found her staring at his throbbing manhood as if transfixed by it. “Been a long time since you’ve seen a proper Dwarven cock I assume,” he said with a chuckle. Then, feeling the sudden need to be cruel to the thing before him, he added, “Do you still not wish to be saved?”
“Never!” Fuckmeat gasped as if horrified by the question. “But I must beg you… please… my udders… my dumb sagging milk-dripping cow udders: grope them! Tease and pull my nipples. Pinch them till I scream in pain and pleasure. Fuck my teats till I cum the thoughts away! I do not want them, only the pleasure of life as a cow. Fuck me and use me till my mind melts again!”
“I am happy to pledge, on my honor as a Dwarf, that I will not leave you till what you ask is accomplished. And should your mind still be intact when I cum, should you still be able to form words and thoughts, I’ll but drink some of your milk and continue working to break your mind.”
Fuckmeat cooed happily and opened her mouth wide, inviting him to begin.
* * *
“I believe that is the last of the matters that require Your Majesty’s attention today,” the king’s Majordomo said. “Is there anything you require of me before I leave you?”
Jennenes shook his head. “No, as always you have accomplished every task required of you with stunning efficiency. I believe I will retire to my chamber for the rest of the evening. Do not disturb me unless there is a true emergency.”
The Majordomo smiled knowingly. “Does his Majesty have a full evening planned for his new queen?”
“Oh yes, a VERY full evening! And should things go as well tonight as they have been going in the last few weeks she may soon be ready to be introduced properly to court.”
This seemed to surprise the Majordomo. “Does that mean she is already bearing the royal heir?”
“Perhaps,” King Jennenes replied. “But you know how hard it is for two full-blooded High Elves to conceive. And I’ve also told you how much longer the pregnancy will be compared to a Human’s. Even if she is now with child she won’t show signs for some time. Now be gone and let me retire to me queen in peace!”
“As you wish,” the Majordomo said, bowing and backing away from his king.
After finishing Ghilliana’s education he had taken her as his queen. There had been no ceremony, he was the highest power in Iphasea so he had simply declared it so. Since then she’d spent all of her time in the largest of the bedrooms he used.
They had made some adjustments to the furnishing to accommodate her. When Jennenes entered the large bedroom he was glad to see Ghilliana using them. She sat upon a huge throne. The cushions were plush and soft yet firm, crafted to her exact preference. He’d insisted on the velvet fabric to be dyed the same shade of blue as her hair, something he thought contrasted nicely with the gold plated frame of the throne.
She sat waiting for his return the way she did almost every day: naked except for her new tiara and slumped down in the throne, with her legs spread open and resting on the armrests. She was absentmindedly playing with herself as she waited for him, the fingers of one hand rubbing and dipping into her dripping wet cunt while she played with her large breasts with the other.
Her eyes lit up when Jennenes entered the room. “My king!” she proclaimed happily. “You have been apart from me for too long. I am so fucking wet waiting to have your cock in me once more. My pussy needs your manhood deep inside me. I need to be fucked by you and I need every drop of your precious royal cum to be put inside my cunt. I NEED your child inside of me and just thinking about it makes my cunt ache even more for you…”
As her voice trailed off she plunged her fingers deep into her cunt, dragging out as much sloppy pussy juice as she could then bringing her dripping fingers to her mouth to lick it clean. “Mmmm… So delicious. But it would taste better mixed with a fresh load of your seed. Come to me! Please, I beg you. I NEED you.”
Jennenes stood out of arm’s reach, smiling happily at his queen. She’s changed so much since the time we first met. I do so like her this way, but the joy of her current state of simpering devotion would not be as delicious had she not been who she had been.
While drinking in the sight of her fingering herself and groping her breasts and licking the moisture of arousal from her fingers his eyes glanced often to the tiara she wore.
Always on her head, he thought. Even when she sleeps it remains there, enchanted. None but her can remove it and she’d never choose to do so thanks to the crown itself.
“My king,” Ghilliana whined, “I’ve been such a good girl, waiting so long for you to return. Please, fuck me now!”
He began to undress. “I will, my dearest, but we need not jump to me being inside of you. You have been a good girl after all, that deserves rewarding.”
Once he was naked he knelt before the throne, placing his hands on the insides of her thighs. Gently he caresses them, working the tips of his fingers up towards her knees then slowly back towards the pussy.
Her thighs have gotten thicker, he thought happily. ALL of her has got thicker. Those magnificent breasts, her sides, that amazing ass, even her face has filled out slightly. But the question is why? Is my heir already inside her or has she simply put on weight now that her life consists only of eating, masturbating, and fucking?
While thinking of this he moved his face in close to her sex, opening his mouth and breathing the heat of his breath on her. She cooed and wrapped her legs around his shoulders.
“Oh, yes, my king, reward me for being such a good girl.”
He knew she was expecting him to start eating her out. Deciding to surprise her today and take advantage of the position her body was in he moved his face further down, stretching his tongue out and starting to lick her ass.
Ghilliana gasped in surprise then purred happily as she tightened her legs around Jennenes’ back. “Such a treat, indeed,” she gasped happily.
Once Jennenes felt his woman cresting towards climax he adjusted his head, dragging his tongue up her taint and then plunging it into her cunt-hole. He needed only thrust his tongue into her a few times before he felt her legs tighten around him. A moment later her vaginal muscles clenched, forcing a pleasurable font of her juices into his open mouth.
“Now in me,” she demanded once she was done cumming.
Jennenes pushed her legs off of his shoulders and stood, grabbing her soft waist and ramming his cock into her wet cunt. He pounded her hard and long, enjoying the sight of her huge breasts jiggling and bouncing.
She reached her legs up and wrapped them around the small of his back, begging for him to cum inside of her. “We’ve plenty of the Iphasean Potions of Virility. I’ve waited so long, please, cum in me now!”
He’d planned on making their first coupling last but her desperate pleading did much to push him quickly towards his own climax. And she was right, he had enough of the potions stored just in the room to allow him to fuck his queen for weeks without needing rest. Knowing that Jennenes let himself rise quickly to the moment of relief.
Ghilliana knew her king in ways she’d never known any man. And she knew his body better than any other woman had known it. Sensing his nearness she wrapped her legs even tighter around him, reaching up and grabbing hold of him with her hands as well. “Inside me,” she gasped as he pounded into her. “Always inside me. Waste not a drop of your precious seed till we know you’ve put a child in me!”
After cumming in her he’d stumbled back, sitting on their large bed as he caught his breath. He sat and watched Ghilliana put herself back in the position she’d been in when he’d arrived. She rubbed her cunt while moaning happily, dipping her fingers into her hole then dragging out the mix of semen and her own juices and using them as lubrication as she rubbed her clit.
“Nothing pleases me more than feeling your seed inside of me,” she purred, leaning her head back and closing her eyes. She pulled her hands away and let the messy sexual fluids begin to leak out of her. She moaned, luxuriating in the feel of it running down her taint and onto her puckered asshole.
As Jennenes watched he thought she seemed satisfied, at least at first. Then his eyes went to the enchanted tiara she wore. It was golden and crafted with the most skilled hands his money could buy. The crown had been delivered to him “finished” but he’d looked at it only as a groundwork to be built upon. He’d spent much time infusing the tiara with powerful enchantments. He’d then exhausted much magical energy, using all of the arcane knowledge he had access to, to craft a red gem full of even more powerful enchantments. Binding the two together had left him exhausted and he was only now recovering from the endeavor.
The red gem glinted then began to glow. As the glow intensified the content expression on Ghilliana’s face changed. Soon there was no satisfaction there, only desperate hunger for more carnal delights. “More,” she whined. “I need more of you. Take a swig of the potion. Refresh yourself then fuck me. And when you are spent drink more and fuck me more. Fuck me till the duties of our kingdom demand you leave this room and not one moment less. And spill not a single drop of your precious seed anywhere but inside my royal cunt.”
Jennenes smiled, proud of the woman he’d crafted Ghilliana into. “As you wish, Your Highness.”
Polls for what happens next: