Gender: Male Age: Secret Location: N/A
|Introduction: A queen's life after her husband's death|
There was a soft knock on the door to his chambers. Who the hell wants to see me this late? Brandyn had told his guards explicitly to not let anyone see him tonight. He sighed, arranging the various maps into piles on his desk
"Come in," Brandyn said, rising. His left hand rested on the pommel of the dagger belted to his side. You can never be too cautious in times of war.
The door opened, and in walked a shadowy figure. As it glided into the warm lamplight, the outline materialized into a sensual young woman with raven hair. She was dressed in a deep blue gown that emphasized the color of her irises. Her red lips parted, and she said in a sultry voice,
"My lord, forgive me for intruding at this late hour. Your guards think that you could use some…company. I hear these Alterian nights can get cold and lonely."
Brandyn stood, stunned. He had more than his fair share of women, courtesy of being king, yet not many were as forward as this mystery seductress. As he opened his mouth to reply, she strode nearer to him, her slippers lightly scraping against the hard floor, and put a finger on his lips.
"Relax, my king." Her hair seemed to perfectly frame her fair face. It did not take the tight feeling in his crotch for Brandyn to know he was aroused. The lady's other hand – the pointer finger to be exact – traced a serpentine line up Brandyn's leg. He moaned as her soft fingers caressed his cock through the taunt fabric of his pants.
With deft fingers she removed his tunic. Casting it aside, she took Brandyn by the hand and led him to the bed. The walk there seemed to last minutes. Yet, soon enough, she was kneeling before him, unlacing his trousers with the same dexterity as before. She flung those, along with the undergarments, across the room and pushed him town onto the bed.
At nearly fifty years of age, Brandyn was somewhat past his prime. He was still strong, but his belly bulged slightly, a sign of too many years of feasting and drinking. He reached his hand out to grab the woman by the back of her head and pushed her mouth onto his erect cock. Waves of pleasure filled his body. It had been at least a month since he had last been with a woman. But now that these rebels were nearly destroyed, Brandyn silently vowed to himself to keep this woman with him until he reached home to his queen.
It seemed like in no time Brandyn was ready to orgasm. He pushed her head down, making sure she would suck up every drop of his cum. Brandyn laid back down on the bed, eyes closed, with the glow of pleasure filling his body. He never saw the knife that slit his throat.
Penelope lay back, reclining against the walls of her bathtub, as her handmaidens scurried around to wash her hair and scrub her body. The last she had heard, the rebels were nearly exterminated. That means Brandyn will come home soon. Her husband, although nearly thirty years older than her, still managed to turn her on and was the best lover she had ever had. Also, he had forbidden her from having an affair while he was away. During these last two weeks, she was horny for a large portion of the day, resorting to masturbation when she could not bear it anymore.
The bath only took another ten minutes, but by the time it was done, she knew she was going to have to play with herself again. The mere thought of him coming home drove her wild. As she entered her chambers, she dismissed her maids. She turned and began to disrobe as a figure emerged from the shadows. She hastily clutched the robe tighter around herself and nearly screamed for help, but she recognized Derrick.
Derrick Fletcher was her husband’s second in command. His return meant that…
"Where's Brandyn?" she asked eagerly.
His face remained impassive. Penelope gasped.
"Is he alright? I didn’t hear of anything happening!"
The man stepped further into the light, revealing his black tunic and pants. "I'm sorry to say, but he was killed in a tragic accident, involving a local…whore."
Penelope covered her mouth with both her hands. Yet she sensed that something was wrong. Although Derrick said he was sad, she thought she caught a glimmer of triumph in his eyes.
He continued, his brown eyes looking into Penelope’s blue ones. "His death makes you the logical heir to the throne." Yes, she definitely caught a glimmer of something in his eyes. Not hope – malice. "We wouldn't want any…complications to your coronation, would we?"
Penelope's eyes grew wide as she realized the implications of this threat. Although she was the next ruler for Altera, Derrick commanded the loyalty of most of the military. He could, quite easily, declare himself king.
"The people would never accept you as the rightful heir," she scoffed. Yet deep down, she feared they might.
"They might…the might not," he said. "This is all a game of chances. I suggest that we come to a deal. I will let you ascend to the throne."
"What do you get in return?" she inquired.
"You. You'd listen to me for all your decisions and would be under my command. Privately, of course. But you have my word that I will release you from this oath after I tire of ruling."
Penelope only considered this offer for a moment. She would get to be the figurehead, yet Derrick would be telling her what to do and say.
"No." She said.
"No?" He pulled a knife, and with the strength of a bull, forced the blade against her neck. "Then how about I take your life instead, hm?" he growled. "If you don't accept, I will beat you, then hang you naked outside the castle so all your citizens can see their 'rightful heir'."
She stood, frozen by shock. The only movement in the room was their heavy breathing. Seeing no alternative, she bowed her head and accepted his proposal.
Derrick smirked victoriously and sheathed his knife at his side. "Now for your first command my lady." He pulled his trousers down partway. His cock sprang forth. Penelope thought it was nearly as vile as the man. Yet she had no choice but to touch it as he guided her hand to his cock. "Stroke it."
Penelope slowly moved her hand up and down the length of his dick. "Kneel before me and keep stroking it." She knelt.
Her arm pumped faster and faster, wanting this horrible experience to end. She hoped he would cum before he made her stick that thing in her mouth. Yet, almost as she thought it, he stretched out his hands to grasp the back of her head. She tried to push back, but Derrick pulled her face within a couple inches of his cock.
Just then cum erupted from his dick. It covered Penelope's face and the front of her robe. Derrick moaned and released her head. Not able to look at the man, she stalked off to clean up in the washbasin in the adjoining bathroom. After she was cleaned, which took a good five minutes of scrubbing, she returned to the bedroom to find that Derrick was gone. It took hours for her to fall asleep that night. Little did she know, the horrors had just begun.
Penelope stalked away from the stables, the salty taste of cum in her mouth. It was the second week since Derrick had enslaved her to his will. Although she now wore the crown as queen, she felt like it was a meaningless title. In her position, she was powerless.
This last experience had been the worst. Derrick had made her give him handjobs and blowjobs in progressively more public areas, yet as she was kneeling in front of him in the stables, she could see the pairs of feet walking back and forth. If just one person had opened the wrong door…
But luckily none had. She was safe until Derrick's lust overcame him again. Penelope was not even paying attention where she was going. As she looked around, she realized she was in the royal gardens. It was a place where she and Brandyn used to spend countless hours kissing and talking. She sat down on a stone bench and began to cry.
Hours later she returned to her chambers. Yet something was amiss. It took her a second to notice a folded letter resting on Brandyn's old desk. She strode over, fearing the worst. One glance at the handwriting confirmed this fear. It read:
My Dearest Queen Penelope,
I start to tire of this game between us. If you obey me completely tonight, I will no longer require you under my command. You are throwing a feast for all the nobles and knights. My commands are as follows:
1) You will wear the dress I provided for you on your bed, and nothing else underneath
2) You will have a seat placed beside you at the table, reserved for me.
3) Behave yourself
Only one more night. Those words seemed to fill Penelope with a hope unrivaled by anything else in her life. Yet she also had a suspicion. She could almost see Derrick's eyes glinting with malice. Yet there was nothing for her to do but to obey.
By sundown she was dressed. Penelope wore a knee-length white dress, short for royal standards. The garment was made with additional padding for her breasts, making them look even larger than usual. Yet she thought she could bear anything, including scandalous rumors, since this was the last night of her slavery.
The entire walk to the great hall – and through the first half of the feast – Derrick did not appear. Penelope began to start thinking that he really was bored of her. This put her in an excellent mood, and she was in the middle of a lively conversation with Sir Arroth, a young knight in the army, when the doors swung open and in walked Derrick. Penelope stopped talking mid-sentence, and the knight was looking at her in confusion. She paid him no mind. Her eyes were fixed on the figure that was ruining her life.
Derrick took his seat next to Penelope, making them the only two at the head of the table. He exchanged pleasantries with many of the surrounding nobles. He absentmindedly plucked a grape from a dish in front of him and was rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. Then, he leaned in and whispered in Penelope's ear.
"Put this in your pussy."
Her eyes grew wide as he slipped her the cold fruit. With trembling fingers, she slowly began to slide the hem of her dress up her legs. The grape felt like ice as she placed it near her entrance. One more night she thought as she pushed it in. It was a familiar sensation, made odd by the abnormal temperature. Yet she could not help but feel slightly aroused as she remembered Brandyn sliding his dick into her pussy.
Fingers began to touch her, and she instinctively snapped her legs shut. This earned her a hard stare from Derrick. She slowly spread her legs again so he could continue rubbing her pussy. It was the first time he had touched her pussy, and surprisingly he was able to turn her on, though she hated herself for getting wet. Her eyes began to wander up to the ceiling as Derrick whispered in her ear again.
"Here's another one."
She fit three more grapes – the biggest Derrick could find, it seemed like – into her pussy. Then, he just continued to rub her pussy. Finally, as the night was drawing to a close, Derrick got up to leave.
Penelope breathed a sigh of relief just as she felt something cold run down her back, then partway down each of her arms. She watched in horror as her dress was torn off of her from behind. She quickly covered herself, and looked back to see Derrick smirking. All the nobles were looking, dumfounded at what was happening.
"Slut," he commanded. "Get on the table and start dancing. NOW!"
Penelope was standing on the table before she knew what was happening. All the lords and ladies were staring at her. "Dance, slut, dance!" commanded Derrick.
She slowly began to move her arms and feet as hot tears ran down her face. To her additional horror, as she was dancing, the grapes fell from her pussy, one by one, in full view of everyone. She collapsed, crying, onto the table. Her right arm landed in a large bowl of pudding. As she pushed herself upward, Derrick climbed behind her and shoved his dick into her pussy. The pain and humiliation far outweighed the pleasure.
As he was thrusting, Derrick used a free hand to shove her face into the vat of pudding. She rose, gasping and choking. By then, most of the nobles had left, appalled and aghast at what had happened. Yet a few remained, their trousers down and dicks out.
"Come for your chance to use a queen!" bellowed Derrick. The nobles – knights all of them – got in line behind her. To her benefit, she passed out soon after the third man took his position.
This was my first story. Any comments would be welcome. And, please comment if you want me to write more chapters!
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