Master of the Kingdom Ch. 02

The king's door, located behind and to the King's right side, lead to a stairway. Down lead to a panic room, stocked with supplies, in case there should be some kind of uprising while the King dwelt within his chambers or the throne room. Stocking those supplies- replacing the rations when they began to moulder, making sure the mechanism to the locking portcullis was functional, and, of course, keeping everything free from dust fell under Colette's direct purview, and it was the only duty that she always performed alone.

However, take those stairs up, and they would eventually lead to the royal apartments located directly above the throne room in the keep. The apartments were a sprawling, luxurious tangle of extra bedrooms, studies, libraries and private dining halls. In times past, the entire royal family- all brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, children and children in-law and grandchildren and so on- would live here, in the capital. Now, because the royal family had dwindled over time, there was only the king and his personal staff.

But before you reached that, there was a concealed gallery. Perhaps concealed wasn't the right word- the entire throne room was overseen by a second-level gallery, where non-functional members of the royal court could oversee proceedings in the actual throne room. From the ground floor, and the gallery across from it, the concealed area appeared to be part of the rest. But it was accessible only to the royal family and those they entrusted with their innermost sanctum- and it was here that Colette observed the meeting between Adeline and the King, just far enough back from the railing to be hidden in the shadows.

Colette's mouth was pressed into a tight line as she glared at the witch's back. Colette had served the king personally since she was twelve, first as a playmate and a companion and later as a lover and servant. As daughter of the previous king's high steward, Colette was considered very minor nobility, and her being of an age with the king it simply made sense for her to be called upon for this purpose. And now, here was a very beautiful and very dangerous and, to Colette, at least, very unwelcome new presence in King Roland's life. Colette felt her distrust turn bitter in her mouth.

Just as the witch was about to disappear from view, Adeline turned, seeming to glance back. A chill came over Colette as the witch's eyes passed over her hiding spot. The witch's pale eyes found hers, for just a moment, before moving on. Colette swallowed, finding her throat unaccountable dry, and tried to dismiss the feeling as jitters. It was not possible for someone from the throne room to see her. She had stood in the spot where the witch has stood and tried.

There was a tug on Colette's arm. "Please, mistress," Katarin said in a strained whisper, "Let's go before his grace thinks we were spying on him."

Colette coolly regarded the mousy-haired young girl. The former king's staff were given duties elsewhere, after the coup, and suddenly Colette and her four subordinates were saddled with the duty to take care of the entire royal apartments themselves, rather than just the six-room suite King Roland had maintained for his own use from when he was a prince. Even if the need to address the King's sexual satisfaction was set aside, they did not have the staff to make up the difference in labour force to maintain the entire royal quarters. Few of the rooms were in use, at least, but as of late his grace had been requesting that more of the rooms be opened and prepared for use. This was what had motivated Colette to bring more girls into her secure little world.

Katarin was her newest recruit, a shy country girl just past the age of eighteen, who ran away from a pastoral life to live with an uncle in the city. She was far too timid around King Roland, even considering the lewd things the King required of his personal maids, but finding new staff to fill out the royal apartments was a challenge. There were many beautiful girls, many girls who wanted to have sex with the King, either in the vain hope of becoming princess consort or seeking to be a favourite concubine, and many girls who qualified for the privilege of having employment in the castle. Finding people who satisfied all three requirements- beauty, willingness to because the king's bedwarmer, and skill at the work demanded of her- was difficult.

Katarin had been the most sought-after girl in her village, once. A modest bust, wavy hair, sparkling green eyes, and a slender, delicate figure that her form-hugging maid uniform showed off, the girl would have been a prize wife for some local merchant or plantation owner, perhaps even the mistress of her local lord. But in the capital, the girl had found a rude awakening. She was still beautiful, yes, but she was no longer remarkable, and the realization had awakened in her a timid streak that Colette was stubbornly trying to train out of the poor maid.

Still, Colette could work with her. She had made good maids out of worse material before.

"A royal maid should be attentive to King Roland's needs," she instructed, her tone firm and perhaps a little too harsh, but Katarin's wibbling ground on Colette's nerves, "His Grace sent us away for his privacy, but did not give us new orders. Therefore, we remain out of sight until the King has need of us once more."

The fact that Colette hadn't actually given his majesty the requested privacy, Colette kept to herself. She had always felt intense jealousy of anyone who came between her and her beloved King, heathen sluts included, and Adeline's dire reputation be damned. The place of kneeling at the King's feet, of attending to his needs first above everyone else, belonged to Colette.

The girl- Colette had trouble thinking of her as a woman despite the fact there were only four years between them- gave a hesitant nod. "I understand, mistress."

Colette turned back to the throne room in time to notice that King Roland had risen, and was heading for the king's door. She spun on her heel, and gestured at the wall. "Out of the way, girl, and remember to curtsy as His Grace passes this time."

Katarin paled with anxiety, but gave a brief nod and took her place. Despite Colette's disdain for the girl, disobedience was not among the younger maid's many deficiencies. Colette moved in beside her, tucking a errant curl of blonde hair behind her ear.

When King Roland topped the first flight of stairs, the two maids both curtsied deeply, spreading the skirts of the royal livery widely and lowering themselves on crossed legs. King Roland stopped, and regarded them silently for a moment. Long enough that Colette began to feel the burn in her calves of holding that position, and Katarin began to wobble. Colette made a mental note to punish the girl for that impropriety, although the King seemed to take no particular notice.

Wordlessly, King Roland took Katarin by the arm and pushed her back against the wall. The younger maid squeaked with surprise, and while Colette kept her eyes trained on the floor as was proper, she could imagine the look of dumb shock on the stupid girl's face. She wondered briefly if she would be made to hold her position while the King took his pleasure from the younger maid, but after a moment then King then seized Colette by her own arm, and spun her, pushing her face-first into the other girl.

Colette was taken by such surprise she barely registered her skirt being pulled up before the royal cock was rammed into her depths, the blunt head of it spreading open the folds of her sex deliciously. It wasn't painful- the King was often impatient but not inconsiderate, and Colette was still a little aroused from her earlier service to the King. She could feel her face flush with arousal as the full length of his grace pushed deep inside her eager pussy. She often recalled at these times that, once, she was his first, a hushed dalliance in her room, far from the ears of the court. Despite King Roland claiming her dozens if not hundreds of times since, every time the pleasure she endured as the King used her to sate his lust was overwhelming. She let out a low, hungry moan as his majesty began to thrust into his first and most devoted lover.

Gradually, Colette became aware of how her breasts were rubbing up against Katarin's with the motion of the King's thrusts, and that the younger maid herself was getting flushed and breathless as well. Their faces were inches apart, and the younger maid was watching Colette's face, and the sight of her mistress getting used by their King and lover was evidently having some kind of effect. Slowly, Katarin licked her lips before sticking out her tongue, although Colette, dazed with pleasure, didn't fully comprehend why until that tongue softly played over her own lips. Colette responded in kind, touching her own own soft pink muscle to Katarin's the sensation making her shiver and moan anew. The two maids licked at each other, not truly kissing but twisting and entwining their tongue lewdly together in a way that they both knew the King found pleasing. Katarin let out her own excited moan, and Colette thought she felt her King's pistoning cock increase in power and speed.

The pumping of the King's hard cock into her increased inexorably, and the two maids moaned into each other's mouths. Colette felt so grateful, down to her core, to have pleased her lord and master. Every time the King coupled with her, no matter how perverse the act, she felt complete in a way that she could never convey in words. It was ecstasy.

Soon, she could feel the familiar tensing of his thighs, the ragged breathing that signalled that King Roland's ecstasy was upon him, and Colette pressed back harder, meeting his thrusts in an attempt to coax out his final climax. She took back her tongue from Katarin, and laid her head on the younger's maid's shoulder, groaning with lust. Her lust doubled as she felt Katarin's lips go to her neck, kissing the tender, sensitive flesh of her nape as the King's cock penetrated her, over and over.

She felt his single deep thrust, his shudder, the gasp of the King as he filled Colette's pussy and womb with his thick, royal seed. Colette's own orgasm in response was a wild, writhing thing, forcing her body further down on King Roland's cock while she moaned and trembled in Katarin's arms. The younger woman was panting, her own desire having bubbled up from being a party to this wild coupling.

Shutting her eyes tight, Colette prayed that some of that seed would find purchase inside her. She dare not ever dream of becoming princess consort, Colette knew her place was elsewhere and she could bring no political advantage to her lord. But she longed to be marked, for her belly to swell for everyone to see. For all the uptight nobles and lowly servants alike, to look on her and know, not gossip or rumour but know that she was King Roland's personal whore.

The King removed himself, unleashing a glut of semen to fall from Colette's sex and dribble onto the floor, and put away the royal cock. "Go finish the day's work," he ordered offhandedly, his full control instantly back in place, his breathing quickly returned to being even as if he had not just been pounding into his head slut, "I'll be taking Cleo and Leana tonight."

Flushed, Colette smoothed her skirt out, savouring the warm, wet feeling of the royal seed deep inside her, before turning to offer an awkward second curtsy. She tried to flex her nether muscles, futilely trying to keep the royal seed from spilling down her thighs, but to no avail. She would stink of his cum for the rest of the day, and reveled in that blessing. "As you wish, Your Grace," she replied, submissively accepting his wishes.

As the King continued up the stairs, the flushed, aroused and frustrated Katarin reached after him, and mewled "Your Grace, I...."

Colette turned again, back to her, and slapped her full in the face, the surprise of it enough to rock Katarin back on her heels and bounce the back of her head against the stone wall. Not hard enough to leave a bruise, His Grace would never tolerate Colette damaging his property in that way, but more than enough to interrupt her and get her attention.

"You have your orders, girl," Colette said sternly, safely back in the role of the head maid with hardly any effort, "Yours is not to beg unless King Roland asks you to. If you have a need, take care of it yourself, in private."

Frightened, yet still needful, Katarin bit her lip, before bobbing a brief curtsy and rushing off. Probably back to her own bedroom, the little tramp, Colette couldn't help from think disparagingly.

Only when the younger maid was out of sight, the sound of her footsteps on the stone stairs vanishing in the distance, did Colette sigh heavily and let herself relax, leaning against the wall and once more looking down into the throne room. She turned over in her mind the King's request of Adeline and what it would mean for her and the girls. If what the King requested, and the witch promised, was even possible, it would mean that a great disruption was coming to Colette's cozy little world.

Lifting her skirts with a rustle of fabric, Colette's hand dove between her legs. When it emerged again, it was slick and slimy with the frothy mixture of the royal seed and her own love juices. Extending her tongue once more Colette began to lick her fingers clean, savouring the musky, salty taste of the King's pleasure. Whatever King Roland had planned, she resolved to never let it drive them apart.

The King belonged to her, first and foremost. The place closest to him was hers, and Colette would never let that be taken from her.