A Queen's Duty

A hand was on her stomach, holding her in place. Something was tracing her, feeling her curves, the way her breasts bounced, small rhythmic circles as the two men traded thrusts.

For the first time in Queen Tella's life, she orgasmed. Her toes curled and the muscles in her legs tightened around the two men. Her eyes went wide and her mouth went slack as the muscles in her vagina, cascaded in rhythmic pulses.

It was too much for the two men. They came together, both filling the queen. She gripped the couch, digging her fingernails into the velvet, as the ringleader stepped forward.

"Are you sure you wish to continue-"

"Don't you dare stop."

The man she'd been blowing pulled back suddenly, not wanting to miss his turn. He entered quickly, and the cum flowed out of her like a waterfall. She waived her hands impatiently, ready for the next man, and the ringleader stepped forward. He was the last fully clothed, but he lowered her waist, and set a knee on the couch.

Tella's lips shot forward without question. She felt his burlap pants brush against her chin, but her slobber made it easy. The man hadn't been stroking, but the atmosphere had brought him halfway to life; Tella's lips completed the journey. Another creampie shot deep between her legs, and the another man traded places.

"I don't want," Tella gargled, speaking between gasps, "This to ever end."

Her finger was still working her clit, and cum was spilling over, trailing down her stomach. It pooled in her naval, her entire body sticky with cum and sweat.

The ringleader was shutting his eyes, deep in focus to keep himself from cumming. His stomach rolled and jerked from the effort, and Tella only sucked harder.

"I want you inside me," she insisted, and his eyes shot open.

"I'm afraid, I don't look much like the king," he managed.

"I don't give a fuck," the queen gargled.

The ringleader ripped his pants the rest of the way off and watched as the man added the sixth creampie. The ringleader stepped forward, his penis the smallest of them all, but his strong hands gripped her waist, holding him in place. The cum didn't keep him back. His head darted forward, still shaking as he tried to keep himself going, and his tongue started to work her clit. He traced his way through the warm cum, thrusting, his body flush with hers.

He didn't last too much longer, but Tella didn't want his magic tongue to stop working it's slow circles across her pussy. The final two men came forward and entered together. One twisted into a handstand to get underneath the other, his knees working to create enough power.

By the time the two had finished, Tella's entire body felt hot. The entire world was blurry and distant, irrelevant to the cresting waves of pure joy that washed over her. Her legs were rivers of sperm, the couch stained and soaked with sweat.

More, the queen wanted, but the men had finished, and most were pulling their shirts back on.

The room, aside from the heavy breathing, still hot and steamy, had gone silent. Tella sat slowly on the couch, her legs sprawled like a starfish as she tried to catch her breath.

Then she heard the slow clapping.

The men turned, most half dressed. Their heads swung like dominoes to see the man approaching; the king's brother Taynor.

Tella tried to cover herself, making herself as small as possible against the velvet couch. Her legs curled into balls, and her her trembling, sweaty hands covered her chest.

The prince kept clapping, parting the crowd as he made his way to the queen. "A hell of a show," his weasel voice whispered, "It's a shame I only caught the end of it."

"T-Taynor," Tella stammered, her voice a terrified wheeze.

"You're worried," the prince laughed, "I get that. You could be killed- should be killed for this. It's treason- but I understand. I know your duty as a queen."

The prince stepped forward until he was opposite the queen. He sized up her naked body and smiled, staring at the sweat, the cum, her perfect hair tattered and sweaty, all the pins unfurled, the locks that trailed across her cheeks.

"And I know my brother," Taynor admitted, "I know he'd never have an heir himself, not with his desires. So I understand it. You know your duty, the same way I know mine, the same way I sit away from the royal table, never too loud, never too opinionated- so I've shown understanding, I expect you will too."

The queen was shaking, but her eyes never left the prince. She wouldn't even let herself blink.

"There will come a day when I'll need your powers," Taynor stammered, "There will be things I need that a lowly prince can't demand- but a queen can. And you'll do them. Because you intend to raise a bastard to become our next king, and you value your head above your neck."

Taynor gave one last smile and pulled away.

"It's just politics," his weasely voice said, "Playing the hand I'm dealt, and for you, it's all part of being queen. You'll do your duty."