A Whore for the King Pt. 02

This story is categorized as science fiction/fantasy, but there are no ray guns or robots. No wizards. No orcs. It is a 10-part tale of fictional people living in a fictional kingdom in England a long time ago. There's a lot of sex, but there's also a lot of words devoted to plot and character development. Isn't sex more exciting when it involves characters we care about? It's my hope that King Harold, Princess Alana, Queen Mother Eunice, Sir Robert, and (especially) Sarah the Whore capture your attention. All characters are adults over 18.

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"My name is Sarah Atherton. I am the king's new whore."

The guards at the castle gate had been told to expect a wagon bearing a beautiful woman and her few possessions. Madam Alice from the brothel told Sarah that the palace staff would provide elegant clothing and everything else she would need to live comfortably. As she entered the palace doors, she gazed upon a world more elegant and beautiful than any she'd seen before.

Instead of rough wood, the walls were covered with smooth plaster painted pure white. Large parts of the ceiling were decorated with gold leaf. Magnificent chandeliers holding dozens of candles hung from the tall ceilings. There were wide windows that ran from near the floor all the way up to the ceiling. Elegant furniture filled the rooms, and beautiful works of art hung on the wall. Sarah had thought the brothel was a beautiful place, with the finest decorations she'd seen since leaving her family's farm. When compared to the palace, the brothel was a shed.

The palace housekeeper greeted Sarah and showed her to the room that would be her new home. It was magnificent. Seeing that Sarah was shocked to learn she'd live in such luxurious surroundings, the housekeeper smiled and explained why. "Girl, you are going to spend a great deal of time in the company of the King," he said. "We would not have you to entertain him in the kind of spare little room most of us occupy."

What was even more shocking was the news that Sarah was to have a servant. "This is Emma," the housekeeper said. "She has been at the palace long enough to know how things work around here. Emma, this is Sarah."

"I am pleased to meet you, my lady," Emma said, bowing her head.

My lady? What's going on here? Sarah asked herself. Don't they realize I'm just a whore?

Emma helped Sarah put away her small pile of possessions, hanging her clothes in a closet that was much larger than needed for Sarah's tiny wardrobe. "The dressmaker will see you this afternoon," Emma said. "You'll have plenty of finery soon."

There was a door leading to a room holding white porcelain chamber pots, a vanity with a mirror, and one particularly marvelous feature - a bathing tub. There was a small wood stove that was obviously intended to heat water for the tub.

In all her years, Sarah had never taken a hot bath.

"Whose is this?" Sarah asked.

"Yours, my lady," Emma said.

"Just mine?"

"Just yours."

This can't be true, Sarah thought to herself.

"I have been instructed to prepare a bath for you," Emma said. "Are you ready now, my lady?"

"More than ready," Sarah said, glad to know she'd be able to clean herself immediately. "And I would ask that you call me Sarah. It feels strange to be called 'my lady' after living my whole life on a farm."

Emma said. "Of course, Sarah. And I would be pleased if you called me Emma. I would be pleased if we became friends."

"That would please me as well," Sarah said. "I've never had a woman friend my age."

"You have one now," Emma said.

Sarah was fascinated by the process of firing up the wood stove, heating water, then transferring it to the tub. Emma gave her a piece of something she didn't immediately recognize as soap. It contained some kind of perfume that left a pleasing scent on her skin and hair. Sarah was wearing a robe and sitting on a chair, enjoying the feeling of Emma brushing out her hair, when a visitor announced herself.

"Hello, young people. May I enter?"

Emma was startled. "Of course, Your Majesty!"

It was Eunice, the Queen Mother, and her visit was unexpected. She wore an elegant dress made of colorful red and yellow silk. There was beautiful jewelry around her neck and wrists, and a large gold ring adorned her left hand. Her hair was fashioned in an elegant updo like nothing Emma had seen before. On her face was a self-satisfied little smile that was there because she was so glad Sarah had come to the palace.

Sarah was needed. Badly. Immediately. The Queen Mother intended to let her know that no one in the palace - excepting, of course, the King himself - had more important responsibilities than Sarah.

Emma introduced the Queen Mother. Sarah felt inadequate. Her manners had always been known to be sufficient when she was living on the farm with her family, but sitting in the presence of royalty unnerved her. Eunice saw her discomfort and smiled in a warm, kind way. "Please try to relax, child. We're all just girls, doing our best to live in a man's world.

"It's bad enough that we have to be formal and polite in their presence. When it's just us, we can let our guards down. Sarah, I hope you know you can always be honest with me. I imagine you are feeling a bit overwhelmed right now. I promise to do everything I can to help you settle into your new life. I feel sure it's a life you will come to enjoy."

That was all easily said, but Sarah found it difficult to relax in the presence of the woman who'd given birth to King Harold. Eunice decided that it was a good idea to call for wine, and she was gratified to see Sarah relax a bit after her first glass.

They made small talk before Eunice said what she'd come to say. "Dear, I want to impress something upon you. Madam Alice sent you here for a reason. The king is lonely. He worries me. The death of his wife has brought him low. He manages to perform his duties as king, but it brings him no pleasure. He needs something. Badly. He needs you."

"But I am just a whore," Sarah said.

Eunice winced at the word. "Dear, it would be best if you didn't use that word in the palace. Yes, everyone knows you are a whore. But when you use that word, it just reminds all the women here that we are all whores."

"Your Majesty! You are not a whore!" Sarah said.

"I most certainly am a whore. I am the highest paid whore in this kingdom. Dear, my betrothal to the king's father was a business arrangement no different than a negotiation to purchase a broodmare. I was brought here to do a job.

"I am paid handsomely. I get to wear wonderful dresses, eat wonderful foods, engage in wonderful conversations, and have wonderful experiences in return for doing my job. And my job was to spread my legs for my late husband. My job was to produce an heir to the throne. So perhaps it's best to say I am a retired whore. Sarah, don't think for a second that you are less than any woman in the palace, and that includes me.

"I would prefer it if you call yourself 'the king's companion.' I, and the rest of the aristocratic ladies of the court, would appreciate it if you didn't talk about yourself in a way that makes it clear that we are all just whore ourselves."

Sarah liked the Queen Mother. "I will speak any way you wish," she said.

"Good. Good good good," Eunice said. "I want to make sure something is settled today. I understand that you went to work for Madam Alice so you could send money home to your parents. Did you decide upon a figure?"

"No, Your Majesty. I thought I'd just send them whatever I earned."

"Of course," Eunice said. "Let's come to an agreement now, shall we?" The Queen Mother then shocked Sarah by saying she'd send her parents a monthly allowance that was far in excess of their current income. In addition, they would give Sarah an allowance that exceeded anything she could have possibly earned from Madam Alice. And, of course, every material need would be provided.

"... this is too generous, Your Majesty," Sarah said.

"No dear, it is nothing of the sort. If you do your job as well as I know you will, you will be providing an extremely important service. You will give us a happy king, something we have needed for much too long. I want you to think about something. Something that is absolutely true. For many years, I was the most important whore in this kingdom. I produced an heir to the throne, and I made my husband very happy for most of his life."

"Dear, I have been replaced. As of today, the most important whore in this kingdom is you. Sarah, do your job well. Many good people depend upon you."

It was a lot to absorb. "I will do my best, Majesty."

"I'm sure you will, dear. While we're talking about your payment, there is one other benefit you shall receive for doing your job. It is an intangible benefit, but an important benefit nonetheless. As you become the king's companion, he will become a companion to you. Dear, the king is a very good man. He takes after his father. He finds it effortless to both love and respect women. Just like his father. Of all the things you receive for doing this job, I predict that his companionship will be what you prize the most. The companionship of my husband was what pleased me most when I was the king's whore."

Before leaving, the Queen Mother gave Sarah a gift - a lovely white gown she was to wear when she greeted the King in her chambers that evening. "Is this silk?" Sarah asked in amazement.

"Of course it is, dear. Men like it when their women wear silk," Eunice said.

Sarah had never seen such a lovely piece of intimate apparel. It was so thin it raised a question.

"What am I to wear under this gown?" Sarah asked.

Eunice chuckled. "Nothing, dear. Wear nothing. Men like that, too."

The Queen Mother instructed Sarah to be prepared to greet the king just before sundown. Eunice told her son that he was to bathe and wear clean clothing when he first met Sarah. "We don't want her to think we are savages," she told her son.

King Harold agreed, but he had no enthusiasm for the meeting. He respected his mother, who always gave him good counsel. He agreed with her judgment that his loneliness was growing severe enough to prevent him from being the best king he could be. He told no one of the hours he lay awake at night, unable to think of anything except how much he missed his late wife. Harold's agony was plain to anyone who saw him, and they all hoped he would recover after the official period of mourning.

But that hadn't happened. He still disappeared for hours, locking himself in his private chamber. He still drank too much when no one was around. He still went long hours without sleep. So Harold knew his mother was correct when she said he needed female companionship. He simply thought it was unlikely that he'd find it in a young, innocent girl who grew up in the rural lowlands. What could they possibly have in common? What could they possibly discuss?

Harold's first indication that his mother knew more than him came the moment he met Sarah for the first time. She was lovely, with marvelous long hair, a beautiful face, and a shapely form under her silk gown. It was obvious that he was nervous. Harold had spent time with whores - he had particularly fond memories of his time with Madam Alice when she herself was a whore.

He'd been told that Sarah arrived at the brothel with her virtue intact. He'd suspected that this might be untrue - lots of whores were said to be virgins, and their virginity was sold at high prices over and over. It seemed that Sarah might actually have come to the palace with an intact maidenhead. It was something he would find out.

"Welcome, Your Majesty," Sarah said. "I am honored to meet you."

"I am glad to meet you, Sarah Atherton," Harold said. "I would have you do me a favor. When we are with other people, please call me Highness or Majesty. When we are alone, please call me Harold."

"As you wish, Your... Harold," Sarah said.

She was so nervous it was a bit comical. God, she was beautiful. Harold couldn't take his eyes off of her. He wanted to put her at ease.

"I have some treats we can enjoy," Harold said, asking a servant to roll a wheeled cart into Sarah's room. She'd never seen anything like this little table on wheels, which rolled quietly over the carpeted floorboards of her chamber. The king directed the servant to place the cart between two chairs. He directed Sarah to sit in one chair while he sat in the other.

The tray contained a selection of sweet pastries and a carafe of white wine from the king's own vineyard. It hadn't been many years since varieties of white grapes arrived in the kingdom, and wine that wasn't red was still considered a novelty even among the aristocracy. Harold saw that Sarah's hands were shaking as she picked up a pastry. He wanted her to relax. He was a bit surprised that he cared so much about making her comfortable.

"Sarah, I want you to know something," Harold said. "I do not expect you to welcome me to your bed tonight. You have just met me. You need time to decide what you think of me. And I want you to know that if you never welcome me to your bed, that is your choice to make. I would never want you to feel compelled to give affection you don't offer freely."

"But... that's the only reason I am here," Sarah said.

"If it comes to that, we can find something else for you to do," Harold said. "Don't worry about your parents. They will be paid no matter what you decide."

"You are very kind," Sarah said.

"I don't know if that's true. Many would disagree. I just don't want to be with a woman who doesn't want to be with me."

They were silent for a moment. Sarah took a bite from her pastry. The sweet, spicy flavor was unlike anything she'd tasted before. It was delicious, and the expression on her face was so charming it made Harold smile.

"Do you like it?" he asked.

"Very much!" Sarah said. "We have cakes at home, but not like this!" Harold thought it was pleasing to see Sarah's reaction to something as simple as a pastry. He spent most of his time with decadent aristocrats who felt they were too sophisticated to be impressed by anything. Harold recognized that Sarah was the exact opposite of the people he found to be so wearisome.

"What do you think of the palace so far?" Harold asked.

"It is wonderful. Amazing. Everything," she said.

"What do you like most?" he asked.

She smiled. "I am very fond of the bathtub," she said. That made Harold laugh. A tub! He realized that people living in the country must never see bathtubs.

"But there is something I like much more," she said.

"And what is that?" Harold asked.

"Your mother," Sarah said.

That was unexpected. Somehow, he'd imagined Sarah would be most impressed with some luxury. To hear her say this about his mother Eunice was a surprise.

"And what is it about the Queen Mother that impresses you so much?" Harold asked.

"Everything about her is impressive. She is wise. She is kind. When she was Queen, I'd heard she was a very good Queen. She seems to be a very good Queen Mother. But there's one thing about her that impresses me more than everything else combined."

"And what is that?" Harold asked.

"Her love for you," Sarah said. "I've never known a mother whose love for her child is more evident than her love for you."

This was turning into a conversation that was completely unlike anything Harold expected. Who was this girl? Where had Madam Alice found her? Harold was beginning to understand why Alice thought it was a good idea to send her to him. Alice was one of those women who reminded him of his mother, because Alice was never wrong.

"It didn't take you very long to make an opinion of the Queen Mother," Harold said.

"Your... Harold, in my experience, it doesn't take long to know someone's heart."

"I completely agree with your opinion of my mother. She is all you say. But I wish to warn you about others in the palace. Sarah, some of the aristocrats you will meet are snakes who dress like people. They are experts at disguising their true selves. Your life here will be less troubled if you extend your trust slowly. Carefully.

"When people realize you and I are friends, they are going to try to use you to their own ends. I will do my best to warn you about them. So will my mother. But I don't pretend to know all the black hearted motives of every man and woman in my court. Try to keep your distance, especially at first."

Sarah listened quietly. At length, she responded.

"So, does this mean you think we will be friends?" she asked.

What a charming girl, Harold thought.

"Sarah, I think I am already your friend."

"I feel the same, Harold. I'll do my best to be a good friend to you."

"I'm sure you will," he said.

Harold couldn't help looking at her shapely body. The longer he sat close to her, the more she appealed to him. Alice was right. His mother was right. Sarah seemed to be exactly the kind of person he needed in his life.

"There's something I'd like to say," she said.

"Anything, Sarah. What do you wish to say?"

"Your mother told me you are lonely," Sarah said. "The people I know in the country say the same thing. Everyone says you used to be a happy man, but now you are not. I see they are right. I am sorry you are lonely.

"I am lonely too," Sarah said. "It's not the same. We are lonely for different reasons. But for a long time, there has been something missing from my life. I have been loved by my parents, and by my sisters and brothers, but I have never been loved by a man, and I have wanted it more than I can say. It made me sad when I decided I had to become a whore, because I knew it meant that I would never be loved by a man. Not in the way I want to be loved.

"Harold, I think I must have been wrong. I believe now that I will be loved the way I want to be loved."

This simple little speech had a great impact on Harold. It felt obvious that Sarah was not capable of lying about something like that.

"I hope you are right, Sarah," he said.

"Just so I'm sure my meaning is clear, I want you to know that I've made my decision. I want you in my bed. Tonight. If you are sure you don't want that, I respect your decision, but I feel certain. I have no reason to wait."

Harold's heart began to pound. Sitting so close to such an appealing young woman was beginning to affect him. So was the wine. By now the sun was well below the horizon. The only illumination was from the candle, which bathed Sarah in a golden glow. The earnest look on her face made her appear to be even more beautiful.

"Sarah, do you think you'd like to sit on my lap?" Harold asked.

Without a word, Sarah walked to the king, put one arm around his neck, and settled into his big, broad lap. Harold could feel her tremble. I think it must be true, Harold said. I think she must really be a virgin.

He ran his hand over the smooth silk that covered her back. It made her shiver and bury her face in his neck. His hand wandered down to her bottom, then caressed her thigh and leg. He ran his hand over her smooth, flat belly, and tentatively cupped one breast. Sarah moaned when she felt him touch her there. Harold felt her nipple become erect and hard.

It had been a long time since Harold had touched a woman so intimately. He felt his cock growing hard. His want was so strong that he couldn't stop himself from reaching up her skirt, feeling the smooth skin of her calf, then moving higher. The sensation was so arousing that she began to shake. She spread her legs without even thinking about it. She wanted him to touch her there. She began breathing deeply as she felt his hand grazing the tender flesh of her inner thighs.

Passion began to overwhelm Harold, who picked up Sarah in his arms and walked to her bed. He placed her gently on the blankets, then began removing his clothes.