Long May He Reign 5 (Patreon)

So I was laying on my back, on the dining table that Danny’s father had given us for our wedding, with my mountain of a husband sliding the head of his cock along my pussy, teasing me as he rubbed against my clit.

“C’mon Danny, stop teasing me,” I asked. I was going crazy with lust, but I wasn’t ready to start begging quite yet.

“Oh?” he asked with an insufferably smug smirk on his face. “But this is the first time I’ve been able to tease you like this, I think I might continue. You look so beautiful like this.”

Leaning up with a frustrated growl, I glared at Danny and snapped, “Dammit Danny, quit pussyfooting around and fuck me already!”

“Now, what would Taylor say if she learned you weren’t using your manners? After always telling her to use hers, here you are not…”

“For fuck’s sake, Danny. Please fuck me! There, I saiiiiiiiiiiiii…” my word turned into a long scream as he drove his new bitch-breaker of a cock inside me, the sheer size of it splitting me open, feeling like there was a log being shoved into my pussy.

“You feel so much tighter than you used to Annette, maybe I should pull out, save this for when I’ve had time to get you used to my new size.”

I stared up into Danny’s eyes, ignoring the look on his face and told him, “If you don’t start fucking me, then I don’t care if you’ve been in a coma for the last year, I will make you sleep on the couch until Taylor graduates!”

“I admit, things got more than a little fuzzy after that. You should probably take over from here, hun,” The First Queen said, looking up at The King from her place on his lap.

“I think I’ll spare our guest any further embarrassment for the evening,” The King said, while motioning towards Cristoph’s red face.

“Thank you, Your Highness,” Cristoph said as he threw back the rest of the cheap beer in his goblet. He really didn’t want to hear any more about The King’s sex life, as active as it surely was from the legions of The King’s children that could be found in each and every reach of the Kingdom.

“I’ll have one of the aides escort you to a room, we can continue tomorrow,” The King said as he stood up, The First Queen being shifted to sit on his arm.

Cristoph nodded, shutting down his data slate as he too stood. Several servants entered the hall, gathering the goblets and pitcher and taking them away, as one, a girl of athletic build and dark complexion, led Cristoph to the Guest Quarters. Stopping outside a door, the servant turned around.

“This is your room, breakfast will be served at eight, in the same hall that His Forgiving Eminence met with you tonight. If you have a need for anything, there is a bell inside the room, one of the other servants will be able to assist you. Do you have any questions?” the servant girl asked.

“May I ask your name and how did you come to serve The King?” Cristoph asked.

The servant girl frowned and gave a frustrated sigh, “My name is Sophia. I bullied his daughter because I thought she was weak. As punishment, I’ve been turned into a servant until he feels I’ve earned forgiveness. This is despite the fact that I have an incredibly potent power that would have allowed me to serve as an exceptional hunter or assassin for him, this is the reward for deciding that his daughter needed to be toughened up.”

Cristoph blinked in surprise, before he realized who he was talking to. The Shadow, a figure only occasionally mentioned in the Chronicles of The King’s War against the Golden Foe, almost always as a mere footnote at best. Cristoph himself didn’t think she’d ever actually existed, but from what she said, he understood why she was so rarely mentioned, if she spent her time in The King’s service as a common servant.

“Any other questions?” The Shadow asked.

“Ah, no. Thank you for showing me to my room. I will let you return to your duties,” Cristoph said as he entered the room.

It was at the same time spartan yet extravagant. There were no decorations, no paintings, no vid-screens, nothing of the sort. But the quality of everything was far beyond what Cristoph had ever experienced in his life until this point. It wasn’t necessarily the material, but the amount of skill and care that went into the making of each part of the room could be felt just walking past them.

Taking off his overcoat, Cristoph sat down in one of the chairs and pondered where his day had taken him. This morning, when he received a notice that The King had asked for him, specifically, from the University of Endymion on Luna… nothing could have prepared him for what had transpired. Not specifically the embarrassment of The First Queen unabashedly sharing the details of their sex life, more the fact of standing in The King’s physical presence. He’d seen countless images of The King, heard his voice giving speeches and seen him on vid-screens, but nothing had prepared Cristoph for standing in front of The King in person.

He was… surprisingly normal. For want of a better way of putting it. He had the aura of power and leadership that was to be expected of a God, but under it all… he felt like an ordinary man. One who had long since become accustomed to power beyond what any man held, and bore the weight with a quiet dignity that reminded Cristoph of his grandfather. Cristoph had met many men who boasted of their power and importance, and it always felt hollow. The King had no need to boast, no need to convince the world of his power or magnificence.

The King had the quiet confidence of men that were powerful. That knew who they were and had accepted it.