Master of the Kingdom Ch. 04

Lady Desiree Amrien had been surprised to hear that his highness, King Roland, had come to her husband's manor, especially at so late an hour. As she knew it, the freshly minted king rarely visited his subject lords at home, instead preferring that they meet with him inside the castle's walls. Her lord husband had often ranted about how this was a sign of the king's weakness, that he doesn't dare leave behind the safety of his palace to visit others, and that his true influence does not extend beyond the castle's walls. Desiree didn't know if it was true or not- the king was the king of the entire kingdom, wasn't he?- and only paid half-attention when her lord husband worked up into one of his lathers.

She never paid much attention to the comings and goings of her lord husband. He had made it very clear early on where his priorities lie, and where he saw her place in his household. That place wasn't to question him, manage his business, or do much more than smile prettily, maintain good relations with the other ladies of the capital, and carry his seed. Luckily for Desiree, smiling was easy, she enjoyed riding and tea parties, and she had never been adept at reading, maths and keeping ledgers. Having to tolerate her older, fatter husband opening her legs every few weeks was small price to pay for such an easy life.

But now, the king himself was here, not an hour past dinner. Desiree was convinced some important business must have driven him to meet with her lord husband at home. Unfortunately, His Grace picked a poor time to arrive, as her husband was still away at whatever business he had that consumed his afternoon and evening.

"So it is up to me to entertain His Majesty until Benoit returns," she told herself while standing at her full-length mirror. She carefully brushed back honey-blonde hair, as a serving girl tightened the corset on her pale pink dress, one that bared her shoulders and displayed her generous cleavage while accenting her curves. It was, perhaps, a little racy for meeting with the king, but if she could awaken some desire in the king, it might prove advantageous for her husband. At least, that seemed the sort of thing, to her, that a cunning lady might try to do. Besides, she was proud of how well she had maintained her figure after giving Benoit his heir.

"Yes, milady," the serving girl replied mildly, not realizing that Desiree had not been speaking to her.

Once she was laced in, Desiree dismissed her serving girl and proceeded to the tea room where her royal guest was waiting. Making the king wait also seemed like a cunning thing to do. Her lord husband often made people visiting him on business wait unnecessarily.

As she meandered her way through the manor, Desiree couldn't help but notice that her husband's house guards were gone, replaced by massive men, each not less than six feet tall, with thick, tangled beards and black lacquered armour. The royal guards, she supposed. Well, the safety of the king would be paramount. Perhaps they merely sent the house guards away and took over while the king was here. After all, he was very important, and had good reason to be cautious, if half the rumours Desiree had heard were true.

When she entered the tea room, with it's plush couches, glass display cases of fine china, and delicately carved table, the king was standing by the window, looking contemplatively at the courtyard garden. The click of the door shutting behind her drew his attention, and he smiled easily at her. "Lady Desiree Amrien. You are more lovely that I had imagined."

Desiree felt her cheeks grow warm and she offered a curtsy. She knew her own reputation- a beautiful young woman married off to be second wife to an influential older man. Some called her a "bedwarmer", others less savoury names. No doubt that's where King Roland's imaginings had stemmed from. And surely, a man of the King's appetites would know the difference between a bedwarmer and a wife. "Your Grace is too kind," she replied, before noticing the tea service tray had been set on a side table, away from the sitting area at the centre of the room. "You do not wish for tea, Your Grace? Is there something else I can send for?"

"There is no need, everything I desire is already at hand," he replied, before gesturing for Desiree to sit as one of the couches. Desiree was confused by his turn of phrase, wondering if that meant he had his fill of tea already. Trying to maintain a lady's dignity, she obeyed her king's direction, trying to puzzle out the meaning of his words.

"What brings you all the way to my humble home, Your Grace?" she asked politely, "I thought your normally chose to entertain, rather than impose on the hospitality of your lords and ladies?"

"I have a private matter to discuss with Lord Amrien," the king replied, smiling in a way that reminded Desiree, uncomfortably, of a cat cornering a mouse. She smoothed her skirts uneasily as the king went on. "Though I suppose I should impose upon my tribute lords more often, if their hospitality comes so thoughtfully presented."

It took Desiree a moment to understand what the king was saying, and she felt her cheeks heat again. Her cunning plan appeared to be working, at least, and for that she was glad. The king's expression was undeniably lustful, she realized, and the feeling of his hungry gaze on her made her equal parts discomfited and aroused. To be lusted after by a man who could have any woman in his kingdom was flattering in a way that seemed almost erotic.

"Your lord husband, does he still feel displeased by how I usurped his position at the treasury?" King Roland asked, as he stalked around the room to stand behind Desiree. The cat circling the cowering mouse, wondering if the subject of his interest would bolt.

"Oh... not that I'm aware of, Your Grace." She knew that she shouldn't lie to the king, but it also wouldn't do to betray her lord husband's confidence. Besides, Benoit's former position at the treasury was among the least of his complaints about the new king. "He doesn't tell me much about that sort of thing. Politics, I mean. After all, I'm just his wife."

"Ah, of course," The king loomed over her, leaning down to put his mouth close to her ear. Lady Desiree, would you like me to tie you up and fuck you now?"

"Uh, tie, and, uh, make love, Your Grace?" Desiree's eyes went wide, and she felt a nervous lurch in her tummy. She couldn't quite believe that the king had used such vile language, and propositioned her like a whore! "I-I'm afraid I do not understand...."

Before she realized what was going on, King Roland had seized her wrists, and dragged her off the couch and onto her knees. By the time she collected herself and began to fight back against him, the king had wrapped some kind of silken scarf around her wrists, binding them firmly together, but not so hard that it hurt. She screamed as she struggled, but nobody came.

"I'm sorry to have to do this to you, Lady Desiree," the king told her as he pulled her onto the table, and flipped her onto her back, "But your lord husband has been a very unpleasant man and made some quite grave mistakes." He grinned at her, the cat closing in to put the poor mouse out of it's misery. "If it's any consolation, however, my arousal for you is entirely honest."

Desiree squirmed as she felt the king reach under her skirts. "Please, Your Grace!" she begged, "You don't have to... to... ravish me! I'm sorry for whatever we did to displease you!" She felt the sting of tears. How quickly did she fall from a cunning lady wife to... this?

With the hem of her dress bunched up around her waist, the king began to force her legs apart. "Well, Lady Desiree, in that, you're... hmm? What's this?" The king ripped away her underclothes, and held them up to examine them in the candlelight. "Lady Desiree, you're soaking wet. Have you been wishing for me to fuck you?"

"No, please...!" Her pleas were cut off with a moan as the king ran a finger within her slit, touching ever so lightly on the hard nub of her clit.

"Well, my lady," the king said, releasing his belt with a tinkle of metal before pushing her arms down over her head, "I shan't keep you waiting. Your wish is getting granted today."

The royal cock pushed between Desiree's lower lips in one smooth stroke, helped by her overflowing wetness, and she simply lost herself. King Roland was so strong, able to stop her struggles with one hand if he needed to, that Desiree was rendered completely helpless. No one but her husband had ever penetrated her, and her husband's panting exertions could simply not compare to how it felt to be so completely dominated. Her body responded, completely absent of her protests, her arching back and spreading thighs allowing the king to penetrate her deeper than she had ever been filled before. Before long, Desiree was straining and writhing in the king's clutches, not because she was resisting him, but in the throes of a powerful orgasm. And yet, relentlessly, the king kept thrusting on.

Suddenly, King Roland seemed to seize, and the royal cock exploded inside her, jets of the king's seed filling her as they orgasmed simultaneously. If anything, this orgasm was even more powerful than the first, leaving Desiree dazed and panting. She was only dimly aware of the bonds being removed from her wrists. She could nothing except pant with exertion on the tea room table.

In her state, she only vaguely understood the talking around her, and didn't even register the sound of the door opening.

"He's arrived, My Liege," said an deep, sonorous, and unfamiliar voice.

"Good. Take him into custody, and bring him before me."

Ah, that was the voice of the king. The king that Desiree served with all of her heart. After all, he truly cared for her, didn't he? He just gave her the precious gift of his royal seed. He wouldn't give that to just any trollop off the street. It must mean that the king had forgiven her for her husband's crimes, whatever they were. Didn't it?

"Lady Desiree?"

She opened her eyes and gazed at the king. He was reclining back on the couch, at his ease, his stiff manhood erect before him. Hurriedly, she remembered her manners, stood and curtsied, awkwardly trying to keep her legs closed enough that His Grace's seed did not escape. "How may I serve you, Master?"

Funny she should call him that, suddenly. It was an improper title for a king, and slavery had been banned in the kingdom some time ago. But, somehow, it felt so right.

"When your lord husband comes into the room, you will agree with everything I say."

Desiree nodded eagerly. Of course she would. He was the king, after all. Suddenly, she squirmed a little, realizing the king's semen was running down her thighs. That was too precious a gift to lose like that.

King Roland regarded her with amusement. "Now, my lady, you are a terrible slut for being so wet and ready for me when I ravished you."

She nodded, suddenly ashamed. "I'm sorry, Your Grace," she said, feeling the heat in her cheeks yet again. She tried to lowered her head, to show him with her body language how penitent she was, but her eyes kept wanting to go to the royal cock. "I hadn't realized I was such a slattern. I hope you can find it your heart to forgive me."

King Roland shrugged. "My cock seems to be covered in our juices. I'm sure if you cleaned me off, I could forgive you, slut."

Ah, a chance at redemption! Surely the king was compassionate beyond compare for such an opportunity. Desiree lowered herself to her knees before the king, and busily began licking the cream of their lovemaking off the royal cock. It had been lovemaking, after all. Surely a lady such as herself wouldn't dare refuse the attentions of the king.

The gilded double doors burst open, and Desiree turned to see a pair of those black-clad guards hauling in her husband like a common criminal. Lord Benoit Amrien was an obese man stuffed into velvet and finery, giving her the impression that he was a creampuff decorated by an over-enthusiastic patisserie. Her husband saw the position she was in, and his eyes bulged with surprise. It was then Desiree remembered that she was not yet done cleaning off the royal cock, and turned her back on her husband to lap up the last of the semen and love juices from the king's magnificent sceptre.

"What is the meaning of this!?" demanded her husband, his voice cracking with outrage. "W-Why would you insult me so by cuckolding me right before my eyes?"

"Lady Desiree simply knows where her true loyalty lies, Amrien," the king replied smoothly, "And she knows I expect total obedience. Desiree?"

Hearing her name called, she gazed lovingly up at her king. "Yes, Your Grace?" she asked, tentatively. She fervently hoped that his cock as clean as he desired.

"Why don't you face your husband, sitting on the floor in the manner of a dog, and bark twice."

An odd request, but it was the king. She was loyal to the crown. Desiree turned, folded her legs under her, disregarding the slimy cum oozing down her thighs, and regarded her husband. He was on his knees too, with the blade of one of the royal guard's massive poleaxes at his throat. He glared at her venomously. His anger confused her momentarily. Wasn't she supposed to obey the king? She didn't understand why her lord husband would be so displeased. But she did hold her hands out before her like a dog would, and mimicked a dog's bark twice, as ordered.

"You see, Amrien?" King Roland said easily, "Your lady wife here knows her place. And if you were more constant in your vows of fealty to me, that place would have been beside you."

"I still don't know wha-"

"Silence, you great fat idiot," the king snapped, silencing the fat old man with his anger. "I know all about your little conspiracy. Believe me, I'll be very busy this night dealing with your traitorous friends. Until then...."

The king planted a palm between her shoulders, pushing her onto all fours. Desiree didn't have time to get comfortable in this new position before His Grace rammed the royal cock inside her once more. Desiree moaned, and her husband flushed angrily as the king started to thrust inside her.

"Are you a slut, Lady Desiree?" inquired the king as he pumped away, taking her like a dog would.

"Now see here..." was all Lord Amrien got out before she shouted, "Yes! I am a slut! Please, more!"

The king grinned wickedly. "Whose slut are you?"

"Yours, Your Grace!" Desiree gasped, "I'm your slut! The loyal slut of the king!"

"You're the king's stupid whore, who loves to be fucked silly, aren't you?" the king inquired further.

Desiree moaned loudly. To be forced to say such vile things aroused her, even more than the bonds did the first time His Grace claimed her. "Yes, Master, I'm your stupid whore who loves to be fucked silly! My body is yours! Please, keep fucking me senseless!"

The guard kept his weapon at Lord Amrien's throat, but it was clear to Desiree that her husband was getting more and more agitated, his face going red as a tomato. She couldn't understand why. Wasn't there an advantage if she had the king's attention? She was trying her best to be a cunning lady for the good of their family.

"Who fucks you better, slut? Me or your husband?" the king asked in a low, hungry growl.

Desiree moaned again. She loved the feeling of the hard, royal cock sliding into her. "You, Your Grace," she moaned, "You fuck me better than my lord husband ever has!"

King Roland laughed out loud. "Well, slut," he asked, "Has your husband ever fucked you in the ass?"

"No, Master, Your Grace," Desiree panted, "I never let him, even when he asked." Her husband glared at her, face red with rage and jowls quivering. Why? Wasn't she supposed to be honest with the king?

"Well, slut..." the king asked in a low, seductive voice, "Would you like me to fuck your ass?"

The thought of being violated further was almost enough to make her peak again, right there. "Yes!" she shouted, "Yes, Your Grace, please fuck your dirty little whore in the ass!"

"Well, Amrien," Roland said amicably, "It would be rather ungracious for me to ignore such an urgent request from a lady."

"Go to hell, you bastard," her husband replied.

The king simply tsked in reply. "Now, now, Lord Amrien... know this. Everything you have, is mine. Your house. Your son. Your wife. I am simply taking back what belongs to me, as payment for your betrayal. Isn't that right, slut?"

"Please, Master," she begged, frustrated at the delay. "Your slut needs to be fucked in the ass...."

With that, the king pulled out of her just long enough to realign himself and thrust back in. Feeling the royal cock push into her virgin ass set Desiree trembling with mixed pleasure and pain. It felt glorious, to be filled so by her beloved liege. She loved being defiled by the king. She didn't know why she struggled so much the first time. She wanted him to treat her like a whore, to spank her for disobedience, to force her to do such vile things in front of others. She wanted to, longed to be his, in every way a man could have a woman.

She shuddered her way through another orgasm, when the royal cock was abruptly removed from her. She looked back at King Roland and whimpered, but all she received in reply was, "Later, slut," as the king returned his clothing to rights.

"Now, Lord Amrien, I am a forgiving man..."

Desiree's husband shook his head. "No, you're a monster."

The king nodded, and the royal guard flipped his poleaxe around to bash Lord Amrien in the mouth with the butt end. The fat lord had to pick himself up from the floor to resume kneeling, only to have to spit out fragments of a shattered tooth in a wad of mucus and blood.

"Not a monster," the king said clearly, "A man. And an ambitious one. Too ambitious by far to have to deal with the petty games of my own lords. I have great plans, and you will not get in the way."

The king gallantly offered a hand to Desiree, which she took to stand once more, beaming at the king the whole time. Clearly, she was favoured for him to take her as his slut. He hurried to smooth her skirts again, and to make sure her skirt covered her ass properly.

"Now," the king began, that predatory grin focused solely on her husband now. "I will let you go, and perhaps I will find some small use for you. But I am taking both your wife and your son hostage. Betray me, and I will see your lady wife in the stockade, free to be taken by any soldier or peasant with a hard cock and some free time. She'll also be screaming her pleasure and denouncing your skills as a man the whole time." The thought of being defiled so thoroughly got Desiree wet and running her thighs together hopefully all over again. It would be sad that it wasn't the king, but she was loyal, just like the king said, and would proudly obey. "Your house will be dissolved, and your assets seized, your son given to some orphanage where he will no doubt learn a valuable place in society as a charcoal burner or dung collector."

"Should you serve me loyally from now on," the king continued, "In time your wife and child may be returned to you. And if you are very, very fortunate, it will be before I've planted a bastard in your wife's womb for you to take care of for me." The king paused, regarding Lord Amrien quietly. "Do you understand?"

The fat lord sighed, eyes cast down. "Yes, Your Grace." Was all he replied.

"Good." The king motioned, and the two royal guards released the fat, defeated man. "It appears your entire house guard has been struck by sudden inspiration, and have volunteered themselves for the royal army," the king said, "So I will leave twenty of my own men to keep your house and your person safe. As well as some scribes, to help you keep your accounts and check the spelling of your personal correspondence for you."