Morgan's Kingdom (Patreon)

Morgan’s Kingdom

Written by HarmonyMotion

Commissioned by anonymous

Prelude

The blankets and tapestry swirled and rattled gently in Morgan’s bedroom as she touched herself, thinking about yesterday’s events. Their hired soldiers had caught a cute, young pickpocket who had grown too bold and caught too much attention from the richest merchants in town.

Naturally, Morgan was there to greet him. It was one of her favorite, self-assigned duties.

Tales of the sadistic sorceress-queen had traveled far, and all of the kingdom’s subjects knew not to defy her. The cute young pickpocket gasped in horror when he heard that Queen Morgan would be coming to interrogate him. He prepared a full confession, planning to cooperate with the Queen the entire way.

What they didn’t know was that Morgan didn’t care. She was there to play.

Chapter 1

She had descended the steps to the dungeon in a sheer, silk robe and a pair of beautiful glass slippers with a slight heel. The distinctive sound of her steps set her apart from the dull, thudding plods of the armed soldiers patrolling the prison. He gulped as he heard them grow closer, every step echoing in perfect rhythm.

Finally, her profile came into view. Her translucent gown was beautiful and long—too long for a dirty dungeon such as this. However, it never touched the floor, instead fluttering behind her as if being blown by a powerful gale. But how could that be, given the four walls and being deep underground?

He’d heard legends of her beauty, but to witness it personally was a profoundly different experience.

His eyes were drawn first to her flowing robe, so naturally he began from the bottom up. Her dainty feet were visible through her glass footwear, her toes perfectly shaped, looking like they’d been given a master pedicure. The heels accentuated the length of her slender legs, looking so smooth and hairless, every inch of her porcelain skin unblemished and unmarked.

Her thighs were luscious, densely-packed flesh, with no trace of extra fat on them, no wiggle at all. Those toned legs flexed subtly, promising a beautiful power with each sauntering step.

Her arms were slim and strong as well, her fingers long and graceful. No trace of hair there either. From her profile, he could see how immaculately flat her belly was, contrasted with the graceful swell of her breasts. They were not especially large, but for the Queen’s slender frame, they were absolutely perfect—perky, full, and high, looking as delicious as ripe fruit.

Her dark, wavy brunette hair was the only thing covering her nipples. How he longed to get a view of them…

Finally, she turned to face him. He could feel a sudden burst of wind blowing from behind him, in line with the way her gown was flowing. Her bright, emerald eyes and cherry lips absolutely captivated his imagination and fantasies. A dark, thin, arched eyebrow magnified her mesmeric gaze. She was the most beautiful, most powerful sorceress in all the land, after all.

“Subject.” Her voice rang out, strong, clear, domineering.

“Yes, my Queen?” He prostrated himself before her, forehead touching the dirty cell floor. With trepidation, he looked up to see if she approved.

“Do not look at me. I will punish you if you do.”

“Yes! My apologies, Queen!” He quickly averted his gaze.

“Of course, some decide that getting a chance to marvel at my beauty is worth the punishment. I don’t know whether they regret it or not, since none of them survive.” she chuckled. “Maybe you will be the one to tell me.”

He gulped at the implication. Had people really risked her wrath just to catch another glimpse of this beautiful, feminine paragon of perfection? Suddenly, he wasn’t so sure he could resist her terms either.

“Now, you know that we must maintain order in our land. Otherwise, we would be just like the unruly barbarians outside our territory! Surely you understand that.”

“Yes, my Queen!”

“Then why have you decided to steal from others?”

“I… I was hungry! I didn’t have a choice!” he sobbed.

“That seems unlikely. Why were you robbing coin and expensive trinkets from the wealthiest then?” she tutted, though secretly pleased. “For lying to me, I will have to punish you.”

She swirled a finger, not that he could see it, and conjured a small swirling tornado inside of his tattered trousers. The gentle winds enveloped his shaft, already beginning to harden from just the sight of her splendor and taunting confidence. The airy, swishing massage brought him to his full virile girth in a few seconds.

If this was punishment, he would gladly take more! The breezy, delicate massage of his balls, the tugging on his shaft, the swirling over his needy cockhead… nothing had ever gotten him going this quickly before, not even the first time he had laid with a girl! He looked up at Queen Morgan in helpless arousal.

“Nuh uh,” the Queen smirked evilly. “I told you, no looking. Now…”

Her swirling finger turned into an open palm. And then she slammed it shut violently, forming a fist.

Suddenly, the gentle, swishing wind intensified furiously, slamming shut on his most sensitive parts. The prisoner gasped in pain as he tried to protect his crotch with his hands, only to find that they were swept away by torrential gusts that blasted his arms out and away.

Morgan smirked as she watched the tears dripping down his face, only to get forcibly blasted away just like his arms. She could tell from his bulging muscles that he was fighting his hardest to resist, and yet, he couldn’t bring them as much as a millimeter closer! The rags on his arms were beginning to tear apart as her magical windstorm buffeted them. Similarly, the tattered trousers he was wearing began to billow outwards, outlining the sphere of wind where his sexual organs were and fluttering violently as it tried to remain in one piece.

“No more lying, and no more looking! Otherwise, I’ll punish you more!” she smiled malevolently. Her emerald eyes gleamed with sadistic joy.

His dick remained erect even as the violent winds battered him. It swirled over the staggeringly sensitive head of his penis, whisking away the lubrication of his pre-cum. Was she doing that on purpose!? He continued to leak, but the massage was dry and unbearable! Still, he remained hard.

“Now, tell me why you were really stealing from those people,” she continued her interrogation.

“I… hate… them!” he struggled to answer against the torment she was causing. “They have so much! They deserve to lose some of it!”

“Oh dear. I’d say that I have a lot of wealth, don’t I? Would you try to steal from me?”

“N… no… you are our Queen…”

“Lying again!”

“No, I’m not! I wouldn’t dare! You are too powerful!”

“Oh, so it’s because I’m powerful then, is it?” She pretended to think about his answer, even though she already knew what she would do to him. “Well, you told me the truth now, but you lied about it first. And I didn’t even like your answer, so more torture it is!”

“Please, my Queen, wai---”

He couldn’t get any further words out. Morgan pursed her lips and sucked gently, siphoning the air out of his very lungs at a nice, slow pace. With a little wink, she increased the pressure of the winds blasting against his body as well. A new burst of air pushed him off the floor, the winds splaying his arms back and the winds causing her gown to flow moving in opposite directions, causing him to look as if he were hanging from an invisible slab, arms tied up with invisible chains.

Oh, how she loved this!

With a snap of her fingers, she added another undercurrent, swishing his full, burning testicles back and forth. She controlled all of the conflicting currents to perfection, blasting every inch of his body with just the right amount of force, stoking his arousal to ever ascending heights even as her painful windy massage rubbed him raw like sandpaper. All of his clothes tore apart with a loud rip, no longer able to withstand the hurricane-level pressure of her winds.

His eyes were squeezed tightly shut as she let her gusts work him over, bringing him closer and closer to the brink. She could sense the roiling need building in his testicles, the fiery heat surging in his member. He was barely able to inhale a thin stream of air through his gaping mouth, and only then because Morgan allowed it. She needed another excuse to punish him. He was far beyond lying to her now, considering he was on the verge of passing out due to lack of oxygen.

“Now, my little prisoner, do you think you’ve learned your lesson? You’ll never steal again? And no more lying to me either. Isn’t that right?”

A sudden blast of wind roared upwards through the torn fabric of his upper garment, billowing it out and uppercutting him in the chin. They even traced the shape of his face, snagging underneath his shut eyelids and forcing them open against his will. His salty tears reversed direction, tracing back up his face, over his forehead, and splattering against the ceiling.

He caught a glimpse of the Queen with his blurry vision. She was so beautiful, her luscious locks and translucent gown, blowing in the wind, molding itself to the contours of her body… her perky, chocolate nipples were on full display, tenting that silky, sheer fabric so exquisitely...

“Oh, haven’t you learned your lesson!? I told you before, no looking! When will you prisoners ever obey me? Now, get ready, because you’re not going to like this...”

The asphyxiation intensified as his breath escaped his lungs even more rapidly when she pursed her lips and sucked a little more. Simultaneously, she gripped his penis even tighter with her finely-tuned gales and massaged his organ, tugging at his skin, back and forth, faster and faster. As her air massaged his balls, he began to erupt in huge gouts. The suffocation seemed to drive his ejaculations even harder than he’d thought possible.

Morgan waved her hand, ceasing all of her conjured winds but one, letting him drop to the floor like a stone. He was still shuddering from his wind-bending orgasm, but his torture appeared to be finally over. He sucked much needed air into his lungs as his spotty vision began to recover.

When he had inhaled enough to regain his senses, he realized that his raw, overworked, numb penis was still being massaged gently by her winds. It would have been pleasurable, if not for the fact that he felt as if he had just ejaculated his very soul out from his spurting tip!

He tried to fight it, but he couldn’t stop the ministrations, no matter what he did. His hands could not penetrate the swirling force field. They vibrated against Morgan’s magical mist as he tried to push through, stinging his hands and fingers. Even as he thrashed and struggled against her beautiful, painful working of his shaft, he leaked even more precum, only to be whisked away and vanishing without a trace. His dick was rubbed red raw, dry like a desert, and still being brutally teased.

“Now, you’ll get to enjoy that for an hour. Maybe that will be long enough to think about what you’ve done. And if you survive, I’ll pay you another visit.”

She turned away without giving him a second thought, enjoying his wails of agony as he hunched over and desperately tried to fight his own arousal.

Finished with her interrogation, her victim completely spent and broken, Morgan’s heels clacked as she made her way back out of the dungeon. One of the prisoners accidentally caught a glimpse of her as she strolled by. She turned to face him with a knowing “I caught you!” wink, and conjured up a small cyclone around him. Leaving him to stew in her ever-growing tornado, causing him to spin ever more rapidly, she made her way back to the dining hall for her royal dinner with her husband the King.

Chapter 2

Morgan’s blankets fluttered above her prone form as she continued to pleasure herself to the memories of her little interrogation. A gentle, moist swirl of her wind spun circles on her enraged clit, sending jagged bolts of pleasure through her body while a nice cylinder of air parted her pristine pussy lips and thrusted in and out. Her windy dildo also pulsed and reshaped itself inside of her love canal, nudging her in all of her most sensitive erogenous zones.

The thrill of being filled so fully, something that no man could ever achieve, in addition to the memories of her sadistic little game, brought her to the precipice of a fierce orgasm. Her magical gusts intensified as they swirled around the room, every single piece of decor designed to ebb and flow with her magical currents. All of the wall tapestry, the blanket, the curtains of her bed, swishing back and forth, fluttered in the wake of her imminent ecstasy. The little golden tassels, already sparse from months of abuse from all of her self-love, tore off and swirled in the vortex. And in the middle of it all, she floated, back arched, fingers and toes fully extended.

As her pleasure peaked and began to boil over, her telekinetic winds slipped underneath the gap between the door and the ground, picking up the footsteps of one of the royal guards outside approaching her door. He probably had some message to deliver her. Perfect timing; now he would get swept up by the storm of her ecstasy.

He waited outside the door as he could hear the familiar sorcerous swirling winds of her pleasure. He knew better than to interrupt his lusty queen’s daily sessions. Suddenly, the door blew open, and a vacuum of air yanked him off his feet and pulled him into the bedroom!

Queen Morgan was now floating above the bed, legs spread, eyes gleaming as she witnessed the messenger flying into the room, crashing into one of the walls. The sight of her guard, helplessly pinned against the wall, pushed her right over the edge.

A fiery warmth exploded from her deepest core, sending surging pleasure through her beautiful body. Her nipples tingled as her own winds continued to swirl around her sopping clit and thrust into her juicy lips. With a shrieking cry of ecstasy, she exhaled another powerful gust right at the unfortunate guard, snapping his neck back and blowing the metal helmet right off of his head. The effect that her release had him caused her pussy to spasm even harder.

Her orgasmic winds suddenly shifted direction, hurling the guard right back out of the bedroom, sending him sliding down the long marble hall. Pulses of liquid fire poured through her veins, sending magical blasts of lusty air catapulting from her extremities, all the way down to her fingers and toes. The faded, torn up wallpaper of her bedroom continued to weather the worst of her little love sessions, becoming more dilapidated by the day.

As her fingers and toes clenched and spasmed, the pinpoint winds from her digits intensified, finally shredding her room apart. They slashed through all of the expensive fabric and blew huge chunks of stone apart, sending it crashing into the royal gardens. Her blanket swirled and bundled up in midair before flying off into the horizon.

Finally, Morgan came down from the peak of her ecstasy, synchronized with her gentle floating descent back onto her bed. Swinging her long, supple legs to sit on the side of the bed, a burst of air from inside blasted her drawer open, and one of many dresses unfolded itself, inflated, and approached her with a gentle gust. She manipulated it over her head, her hair blowing straight up from the magical forces manipulating her choice of attire. Morgan raised her arms, and the whole thing slowly descended onto her marvelous figure.

She floated out into the hallway, her feet still bare and propelling her entire body through the air. Passing by the guard, she asked, “You had something to report?”

“King Marcus… front lines…” he groaned weakly.

“Oh, that man is so useless! What would he do without me? It’s a wonder I ever married him! Now, on your feet, and look sharp!”

Morgan conjured a cyclone that stood him up and spun him like a top, his skin flapping wildly under their tremendous force. When it dissipated, he collapsed back onto the floor and passed out.

Chapter 3

King Marcus stood at the top of the hill in one of his command tents, reviewing the battle lines and planning his strategy. It was a brutal war of attrition, both sides refusing to commit any more forces into the valley where they could be picked off by archers on the opposite side.

Suddenly, a storm wind ripped through the tent, so powerful that it dug up the stakes holding it down. The tarp, rope, and wood all took flight, as well as the maps that were painstakingly hand drawn, crinkling and fluttering away.

Floating in midair, Queen Morgan was approaching them from above, buffeted by a column of wind beneath her feet. Her high-slit black dress fluttered, horizontal to the floor, revealing her bare, porcelain, shapely legs and giving everyone a view of her beautiful intimacy.

“Morgan!” King Marcus cried out in relief. His reinforcement had finally arrived.

“My queen,” the generals mumbled, making sure not to lay eyes on her lest they suffer her whimsical cruelty. It was hard to resist her sweet wind and her delectable nether lips on display, but they had learned by example quickly.

“Hello Marcus. How is the battle going?”

“Badly, my love. Neither side can afford to give up this valley, but neither can we charge into it. We are in a standoff. Both sides have lost countless troops; we can’t afford to surrender this position!”

“So you need my help again,” she smirked.

“Yes, Morgan, my queen… I am so glad I found you those many years ago and we fell in love.”

Morgan blew the king a kiss which ruffled his hair and rattled his crown. He pushed it down against his head to prevent the heavy metal coronet from damaging and bruising his skull from Morgan’s little affection.

“We need to drive their forces off this strategic position,” he continued. “They have trenches coming down the hill for miles, and even if we could cross down into the valley, we would not be able to push them off. All of our forces would be picked off.”

Morgan smiled wickedly as she surveyed the land. An ominous wind blew across the entire landscape for miles, chilling to the bone. She licked her lips.

“Oh! And my love, please don’t kill our troops in the process! We have lost too many already!”

“Aww, can’t I?” she smiled at him, flashing Marcus her perfect, gleaming teeth. Her high-cut dress swished to the side with a little burst of air, revealing her perfectly smooth pussy lips once again. A bolt of wind emanated from it, carrying her sweet scent to everyone in the immediate vicinity, promising overwhelmingly erotic fulfillment. They all groaned as they grew stiff.

“Umm, well, I guess…” Marcus faltered. He grew harder constantly as Morgan’s hair and dress billowed in the wind, her irresistible scent forcing its way into his lungs, her sexuality on display. He stared at the nipples visible in her tight black dress, and they seemed to fire two darts of wind at him, punching him painfully in the chest, demonstrating their power to him once again.

“Guh, um…” Marcus was speechless.

“So can I? Let me win this battle on my own terms.” She batted her eyelashes at him while cupping her breasts. Their dramatic outlines were visible underneath her tight black dress.

“Okay, my love…” Marcus drooled.

“Great. Make sure to prepare a celebration for when I return tonight. Toodles!”

“Are you sure it will be over by then?” he asked incredulously.

Morgan gave him a deadpan stare. He seemed to acknowledge that he had asked a stupid question.

She stepped to a side and swung her arm back toward the kingdom. A powerful, swirling eddy swept up King Marcus and all of his generals and carried them back toward the castle, with all of them screaming uncontrollably along the way. Morgan smiled and gave them a sweet little wave goodbye.

Chapter 4

Now, it was time to have some fun with the battle. She would inevitably win anyway, so the issue was deciding how to maximize her joy. There were so many options available to her, all of them appealing and sadistic.

The stench of death lingered over the wide swath of broken battlefield... very unappealing to someone with as much finesse and grace as Morgan. Pursing her lips and exhaling gently, a sweet, floral scent blasted through the valley and scattered the foul air across and over the valley on the enemy’s end. Her own personal, solo methods for crushing the enemy forces would be much more elegant, and far more devastating.

The enemy soldiers in the trenches gasped as a sweet, refreshing zephyr wafted through. It was a mysterious, wonderful reprieve to the grueling combat and attrition they had suffered, until they remembered about the sorceress-Queen that the enemy kingdom had at their disposal. This was her calling card.

Their own kingdom’s soldiers quickly understood what was happening as they began to retreat from the battlefield. Morgan flew higher into the air, twirling gracefully, dress swishing pleasantly against her thighs. She regarded the little soldiers from hundreds of feet above, musing how much they looked like ants to her, and how it was an appropriate analogy of the power she held over them as well.

With a little giggle, she began her assault. Wanting to savor the plight of her victims fully, she swirled a little cyclone into existence inside of all of the tents littered on the hills, friend and foe alike. The cloth coverings blew outward and stretched to their very limit, like a balloon that was slowly being overfilled. Morgan relished in the screams that were coming from inside.

Moaning in anticipation, she licked her lips as she increased the intensity of her winds. Soon, she could see the outlines of human bodies and furniture pressing against the outer covering of the tent as well. Chuckling in anticipation, Morgan swirled her finger as she increased the force of the localized hurricanes just a tiny bit more. The cloth ripped, raggedy scraps still attached to the stakes, flapping furiously in the wind. Her effortless storm sent all of its occupants and belongings flying out. Morgan squealed in delight as she watched man and material spin and contort through the air, helpless to resist her power! The ones who thought themselves safe inside the shelter were the first to go!

Morgan guided their airborne flight to the area where the real fighting took place. It only seemed right that they should experience the same thing as the men they ordered. There, her storm died down, and her victims fell ten feet to the ground, bruised and battered, but still alive.

With another gentle sweep of her arm, a simple, straight wind blasted down the valley. Those on the slopes, outside of the trenches, struggled with their footing. They raised their hands to try and shield themselves from the onslaught of Morgan’s power, but they bowled over in no time. Her wind even unbuckled their armor and unlatched clasps, blowing away pieces that weren’t securely fastened, before they began to tumble backwards at incredible speed, head over heels across the countryside. Their bones shattered under the strain.

Those who were lucky enough to be standing on more solid, flat earth leaned into the powerful, sweet wind, tilted at a 45 degree angle to prevent themselves from being blown away. Morgan’s eyes glimmered at their resistance, looking forward to breaking them as well.

Pursing her fleshy, cherry lips, she blew her gentle breath down toward the valley, magnifying her breeze just a tiny bit more. Well, tiny for her, that is. The burly, well-trained, in peak physical condition soldiers below found it anything but.

They screamed as their helmets flew off, their hair feeling like it would get torn out by just the breeze. Many of them struggled uselessly, getting blown off their feet and spinning into the distance. The quick-witted ones that had their swords drawn quickly slammed them down into the earth, creating a handhold for themselves, kneeling on the floor to shrink their surface area and hanging on for dear life.

Friend and foe alike on that battlefield became allies in an instant, struggling to stay alive against Queen Morgan’s unstoppable power. The emblems they carried on their armor meant nothing in the face of imminent death.

The unrooted soldiers grimaced as they struggled to turn their necks, seeing how their wiser compatriots were doing. They tried to follow suit, drawing their own swords, preparing to plunge them into the earth. Morgan smiled, bright green eyes sparkling, teeth gleaming, as she waved her hand again.

The soldiers in the process of unsheathing their swords found a sudden sharp burst of wind pushing their weapons back into their scabbards. They screamed in panic as they tried once again to unsheathe, but Morgan laughed and blasted them once again, ripping their leather holsters apart and sending their weapons twirling away. The stupid ones who tried to lunge after their weaponry got swept up by her fragrant windstorm, losing their footing to spin off after their pathetic forged metals. All that effort, all that skill to craft a so-called deadly weapon, and they couldn’t even hold up to a puff of Morgan’s breath and a little gesture from her arm!

With over half of both war-torn armies dead and flying over the horizon, Morgan regarded the strongest survivors, gritting their teeth and hanging onto the hilts of their swords. Their mouths were flapping furiously, lips fluttering comedically as they struggled to breathe. She licked her lips and began to touch herself, rubbing her protruding bud that had become swollen through all of her teasing and torment.

Morgan conjured up her windy dildo once more with a little flex of her pretty fingers. The extra effort required took no toll on her magic at all; she had plenty to spare for the battlefield. With but a thought, the winds intensified once again. The soldiers holding onto their impromptu stakes in the floor were suddenly blown horizontal, their bodies trailing in the wind, holding on by the sweaty palms of their hands on their swords.

As Morgan worked herself high in the air, she swirled gracefully, causing her unstoppable winds to spin in sync with her little motion. Now the remaining soldiers began to revolve in circles, a few inches above and parallel to the earth, as they screamed for their lives.

Morgan’s folds grew wetter as she gently floated on her own breeze, her hair and dress swishing in the wind as her invisible dildo penetrated herself. Her victims weren’t having nearly the same amount of fun.

Their skin was rubbing raw against the leather bound hilts of their swords. The rotation seemed to accelerate nonstop. Their bodies felt like they were constantly being battered against a wall, such was the barometric pressure Morgan exerted on them.

Those who had not dug their sword deep enough into the earth began to panic as the dirt and grass around them began to erode. Huge swaths of land sheared from the ground. The infantry watched as it ominously flew away—at least, whenever they rotated back to that line of sight.

Soon, they were uprooted, their useless swords still in their hands, no longer anchoring them to solid ground. Morgan moaned as she watched their helpless airborne plight, plugging her dildo into her slick depths with increasing urgency. The heat in her womb positively blazed, sending shocking tingles echoing through her nerves. Her nipples stiffened, summoning their own wind devils to massage them. Her hard nubs easily withstood the hurricane forces tugging at them, delivering herself only pleasure.

The sight of her victims swirling in her easy cyclone, armor being ripped apart, screams deafened by the roaring tornado, tipped her already building climax over the edge. Her love canal quivered, squeezing, gripping, leaking her viscous juices all over her phallic column of air as a deep gurgle rumbled in her throat. She let out a deafening cry of pleasure, projecting her powerful breath into the heavens above, taking a large part of the atmosphere with it. The heavens shook from her little ecstatic exhale.

A spherical shell of wind radiated outward from her pulsing body, expanding ever larger. Her bucking body, still in the throes of orgasm, blasted out winds much more powerful than her battlefield cyclone. As her shell grew larger, it collided with her cyclone, overpowering it and shattering it out of existence. All of the bodies inside the windy funnel finally stopped their swirling and continued on the straight line paths they were heading. Those nearer the center with less angular momentum fell to the ground with a dull thud.

Finally, Morgan’s body stopped pulsing in ecstasy as she unclenched, all of her limbs going slack. She fell out of the air for a few seconds before gently halting her own descent with a nice cushion of air. Wiping the slight sheen of sweat off her flawless face from the force of her orgasm, she brushed her brunette locks back into place and surveyed the land. Only the strongest soldiers still remained rooted to the earth from her devastating storm. She decided she would reward them for that.

With a cacophonous cackle, she flipped herself upright, brought her hands to the sides of her glorious bosom, and slammed them straight down, palms flat. An apocalyptic blast of wind from the heavens itself slammed into the earth, shoving all the soldiers a foot deep into the soft dirt. Even the hills evened and flattened from the force.

She repeated the motion again and again, a large boom accompanying every single thrust of hers. The earth shuddered. Morgan was simulating an earthquake with nothing but her windy explosions against the earth’s crust! The violent aftershocks could be felt for miles.

As the hills shrank lower and lower, Morgan mused that any tactical advantage of holding this territory would soon be moot. Maybe if she had terraformed this land beforehand, there wouldn’t have been a battle at all. Though, where would the fun be in that? Maybe if their kingdom hired their own servants to perform the task, then she would have some pathetic ants to squash beneath her windy heel.

Finally, the ground was completely level. Pleased with her destruction of both man and nature, she made her way back toward the castle to report to her husband how gloriously she had won the battle for the kingdom.

Chapter 5

A localized cyclone materialized in the meeting hall where the King and his top advisors were awaiting news of the battle. Their maps and loose leaves swirled in the air before the windows slammed open. Morgan hovered in, long, slender legs on full display as her dress fluttered behind her. She looked as pristine as she did when she had first arrived on the battlefield... No, maybe she was glowing with beauty and pride even more.

All of the generals gasped as they witnessed her effortless flight once again. It never got old. The only one who retained a modicum of control was the King.

“My queen! Is the battle won?” Marcus asked.

“Of course,” Morgan rolled her eyes. “Did you expect otherwise?”

There was a pregnant pause. None of the generals dared to ask the question they all wanted the answer to.

“And… what of our own troops?” King Marcus broke the silence and inquired delicately.

“Oh! Most of them didn’t make it. Maybe like… 100? It’s not my fault. We had already lost so many.” She exaggerated the number of survivors.

The generals groaned at her blatant lie. King Marcus winced.

“Morgan… for once… could you please preserve our troops?”

She glared at Marcus before changing tack, smiling mischievously. A little twirl of her finger, and his trousers inflated with a pocket of hot, moist air, gripping and tugging his shaft and gently rolling his balls.

“Aw, are you sure I can’t have some fun?”

King Marcus gasped in lust as he stared at his wife’s gorgeous face. Her absolute power, her mastery, her control, and her beauty… All of it had only intensified since the day they’d gotten married.

“All of my generals, out!” he cried as his lust exceeded his reason.

Morgan smiled as she gave all of them a violent nudge with her wind, clumping them all together in an unceremonious heap, swirling them head over heels, and sending them tumbling through the large doors.