Cult of the King - Meadow

A middle-aged East Asian woman with straight, black hair and olive skin, dressed in a dark, fitted suit and holding paperwork walked through the door and into the well-lit room, where a middle-aged male official who wore a standard uniform, salt-and-pepper hair and beard on beige skin, sat at the table, opposite three young women.

They had all been questioned separately, but said nothing, only agreeing to respond together. Reluctantly, those in power agreed, in any attempt to get information.

"All right. Ms. Mendes, Ms.-"

"My name is Poppy King." One young woman responded, looking forward at nothing in particular.

The male official sighed through his nose. "Your name is Lauren Mendes."

"My name is Poppy King," she responded with exactly the same cadence as before, and the same blank stare at nothingness.

Self-proclaimed Poppy King was a light-copper-skinned woman, curvaceous and average in height, dressed in red lace, with her dark hair, thick and curly, stopping mid-neck. Her shining eyes, equally dark, still looked at the wall.

Poppy sat at one end, next to another woman, this one with dark, almost black skin, the same shade as her own eyes. Her hair was styled in Bantu knots, with a wide nose perfectly highlighted and soft, plump lips. She was much taller than Poppy, but held similar curves. She wore the same red lace style that Poppy did.

The third was a slim girl with porcelain skin, dark eyes, and wavy chestnut hair atop her head in a messy bun. She looked... young. Her records indicated she just turned twenty-one, but her face was cherubic and doll-like.

The curves of her small breasts were, once again, covered in red lace. The exact same style. Exact. Same.

The female official looked to the three young women there, and started speaking again. "Ms. King, then,"

"Yes?" the three answered in unison.

The man shook his head. "This man," he held a photo, "is a felon. He's a thief, an addict, and all-around con artist. He is not your husband."

The photo showed a man similar in age to the male official, with deep brunette wavy hair that went to his shoulders, and a short, but well-covering beard upon smooth, sun-kissed skin. He wore a light, white fabric that seemed to deliberately show chest hair.

The copper and black woman looked at the photo, each with soft smiles upon their faces. The porcelain woman did not, maintaining her gaze upon the light lavender wall.

The female official spoke directly to her, "Elizabeth?"

"Meadow." Poppy corrected.

"Let her speak for herself." The male official responded, noticeably irritated.

The porcelain girl was then looking down, rapidly shaking her head only slightly to each side.

The female official looked to the girl again. "How about we talk, just the two of us?"

"No!" the girl responded, suddenly gasping and looking at the official.

The dark woman gently held Meadow's hand, looking at her face with a soft smile. "It's okay, Meadow," she turned to the official woman, nose flaring, "we won't let them separate us."

The male official groaned. "We know you something. We can help you if you tell us. Just tell us what you know. Where is he? Where are the other women? The children?"

Silence.

"Where. Is. He?" he asked again.

"Go. To. Hell." Poppy nearly spat the words.

The male official palmed his face. "This is just... ridiculous!"

He sighed heavily in disbelief. "You're not a bunch of naturey nymph fairy creatures. You're Lauren Mendes, Aisha Rivers, and Elizabeth Fyodorova. Jesus."

"No." Poppy said. "We are Poppy, Violet, and Meadow."

"King." Violet emphasized.

------

Several months earlier...

Small houses in the forest, built of wood and stone, were filled with women of all shapes, colors, and sizes. They ranged from young adults to the rare middle-aged woman, with tons of children running about. His children.

Poppy and Violet were playing card games with their fellow women, smoking weed and hookah, with many of them on harder substances to their liking. Some were on nearby furniture, in the midst of kissing, and the children were made to go out as their king walked in, blessing their heads as they went.

He was followed by a young, slim woman. Porcelain skin, chestnut hair, and dark, dollish eyes.

"Oh, my loves," he started, playfully kissing many of the women on their faces, hair, and necks as the porcelain girl shut the door behind them.

"Ah," he held the small of her back, and returned to facing the others. "This is my newest drop of perfection. She is to be christened tonight."

"And christened as what, your majesty?" a bronze-skinned Englishwoman with black braids asked.

"Oh, my Dove. My sweet, sweet Dove," he ambled toward the woman, holding her soft face in his firm, but gentle hands. "Meadow," he spoke softly, and gave a small chuckle.

"Oh Meadow," he chuckled quietly again. "I'll never tire of it. I'll never tire of you." He turned to the porcelain girl.

"I thank you, your majesty."

He turned back to the other women. "Prepare the christening. It starts at sunset."

With that, he left, walking into the vast array of adoring women and children outside.

The young, porcelain woman wore a simple, light fabric, just as many of them did. She was taken to a lavender-painted room, rivaling that of the interrogation none of them yet knew.

She removed her simple dress and they trimmed her pubic and armpit hair, keeping it as natural, yet groomed, as their husband and king desired, and rinsed the discarded hair away.

She stepped carefully into the warm bath, filled with bubbles and smelling of lilac, the scent being chosen by the wife Lilac herself.

The women began working over her soft body, gently lifting her legs to run soap and delicate cloths over her skin, and carefully cleaning upon her feet and in between her toes.

Some worked on her neck, her shoulders, her arms, and hands, getting beneath each fingernail and trimming the nails to a clean, short length.

The aforementioned Dove massaged the porcelain woman's small breasts, being tender as she lifted them to get just underneath them, and making sure the area was well taken care of.

The porcelain girl, soon to be christened as Meadow, had warm water poured upon her hair and face, and she made the softest sound at this, taking in the lavish feelings. She didn't want it to end.

But they washed and rinsed her, and dried her naked skin with the softest, most pillowy, white towels she'd ever felt. Her hair was blown dry, a rare thing for everyday use, but certainly typical for the christening.

The sun almost set and the children were away in different small houses, as the women who'd bathed the porcelain one carried her within an almost carriage-like cube object, as she sat naked upon its chair.

They soon arrived at the center house, and Violet bridal-carried the newest woman into the home, all the way up the steps. The others followed.

They walked into the spacious bedroom, much more luxurious than the rest of the house. It held a massive bed with layers of pearl sheets and an array of pillows.

Their king and husband was already on the bed himself, his naked body just underneath a single set of these pearl sheets.

The porcelain girl was walked to the bed and placed herself upon it, laying herself on her back, taking deep, quiet breaths.

The man directed the others with a head tilt and Dove knelt upon the bed, positioning herself between the new bride's legs.

Dove slowly went toward the trimmed, chestnut bush. She inhaled the sweet, feminine scent before looking up at the girl, if only for a moment, and exposed the small pink clitoris before her.

She caressed the bride with her tongue, and sucked gently upon her clit, moaning softly as she did.

The king turned to the bride and blessed her as Meadow, kissing her head while she looked at the woman below.

Meadow began moaning softly, and Dove put a single finger inside of Meadow's perfect pussy. Then two. She glided her fingers in and out as Meadow took quick breaths and held onto Dove's hair.

Other women began kissing Meadow's breasts and down her abdomen.

Their king was resting next to her, as the pearl sheets slipped down his body, revealing his hardened cock.

He placed fingers in her mouth and she sucked upon them, wetting them with her tongue.

He took his hand away and started running it up and down his shaft as Meadow watched.

"Mmm." she moaned almost silently, pressing her lips together.

He kissed her mouth and guided her hand to his cock. They stroked together for a few moments before he let go for Meadow to stroke him on her own.

In between soft and heavy kisses, the two shared bliss, as several wives kissed down both of their bodies, a couple of which began sucking upon his shaft and balls. Meadow moved her hand to her husband's soft hair.

Some of the women, including Poppy and Violet, pleasured themselves upon the bedroom furniture. Others pleasured each other.

Meadow leaned up into Dove's mouth, and Dove held upon her thighs as she did so, keeping a steady pace while Meadow began to squirm with pleasure.

Her wetness only grew as Dove circled her tongue on Meadow's clit, fingers in and out her body, while the king touched her small breasts. She breathed harder. Harder.

The king pulled the women off of his shaft, watching intently as Meadow rose harder onto Dove's mouth, pressing with heavy breaths and increasing moans. Her hot body fluttered with intense feeling.

Her thighs were tightening and tightening and tightening.

Her wet self was tightening and tightening and tightening and tightening.

It increased and increased until Meadow moaned out hard, holding tight on Dove's hair, taking shallow breaths in between more moans as her sex pulsating wildly.

She collapsed in her pleasure and Dove removed herself, kissing up Meadow's body, to her face and mouth before crawling to another side of the bed and having someone else's mouth upon her own sex.

The king nearly growled toward Meadow, positioning himself between her legs. He kissed her as he ran his erection on her wet, hot self, and placed it just at her entrance, then slowly guided it inside.

Meadow gasped, holding tight onto his back and wavy hair as he began moving inside of her.

She had only a little experience with her fumbling ex-boyfriend, and now this strong, grown man was softly grunting as he held on her body, fucking her.

"Oh, my god." she whispered, "oh, your majesty."

He kissed her, rough and hard, as he went deeper in her small pussy. The other wives played with her, kissing the rest of her body, and massaging the rim of her asshole until the king started really pounding her.

"Fuck," he groaned, rising up and thrusting harder into Meadow. Much harder. He slammed his cock inside her, deep into her hot, wet pussy as she gasped and panted.

He held onto her thighs and ass, lifting them up to him, thrusting deeper and deeper until he filled her completely. Harder. Faster.

"Ah, fuck," she choked out between her own moans as he barreled into her pussy, his balls smacking her ass.

"Ah-" he moaned and gasped, continuing to fuck her until he just couldn't take it anymore.

He held still and unleashed his load deep into her pussy, beginning to move slowly again as he came. She panted softly as he continued until his balls completely emptied into her.

He pulled out and rolled over next to her, moving his hand to look at his own cum inside his newest wife. The two laughed quietly, and he held her body against him while the other women rested with them on the massive bed and furniture.

------

"Meadow?" the woman asked.

Meadow looked up to her. "Yes?"

"Were you listening? We would like to ask more about the compound."

Meadow looked at Poppy and Violet, before looking back at the woman.

"Then we stay together."

"Always," Poppy said, with Violet still holding Meadow's hand in her own.