The White King and the Seven Succubi

© copyright, Raymond Descheneaux, 2019

*

In a land to the north that borders the inland sea, legend tells of a powerful man, long ago, who was known as the White King. He was brutal and cruel; from time to time, he and his army would invade a neighboring kingdom and torture, mutilate, and kill all of the men. Increasingly, these principalities were failing because the women, alone, were unable to eke out an existence. One by one, their children were dying, and in the burned out woodlands, all of the birds were perishing, too. In desperation, the birds appealed to the gods, and far to the south, in the heavens that protect al-Kharijah, Mother Bat heard them.

Mother Bat is the patroness of all living things that fly. She has exquisite sexual skills and often is summoned by Father Crocodile to his palace, where she joins him in bed in order to give him oral pleasure. This is an important service, for only by ejaculating forcefully can Father Crocodile continue to seed the earth with new forms of life, and only Mother Bat, Mother Panther, and Mother Cobra are able to induce in him the extremes of passion that are needed.

One evening, after they had made love, Mother Bat kneeled and asked him to put a stop to the reign of terror in the north. Father Crocodile gave her special powers and dispatched her to the domain of the White King. After a long flight, she descended and commanded the trees to build her a suitable palace from which she would execute her plans. The trees bent and reconfigured themselves until they had formed a magnificent castle that was hidden from view by the clouds that adorned their tops.

One day, after a difficult pregnancy, the eldest daughter of the White King's highest ranking wife died giving birth to seven baby girls. Their difficult passage through their mother's birth canal deprived them of oxygen, and consequently, when they emerged, their skin was blue. The infants were frail and required constant care, which the women of the king's harīm happily provided. But the heartless king decreed that, upon their twentieth birthday, they would be required to pleasure him, and if they failed to sate his enormous sexual appetite, they would be beheaded.

Upon hearing of this outrage, the following night, Mother Bat swooped down upon the White King's castle and flew in through the window of the nursery. Carefully, she gathered up the babies, pressed them against her breasts for warmth, and conveyed them to her stronghold, where she commanded the trees to watch over them. Then she returned to the king's palace and flew into his bedroom. He awakened with a start, sprang out of bed, and reached for his sword; but Mother Bat made it disappear. Then she told him that, because of his many sins, he would be cast out into the wilderness, there to live out his days in poverty, and eventually undergo a long, disfiguring illness and a painful death .

When the king heard this, for the first time in his life, he felt fear. He fell to the floor and entreated her to allow him to redeem himself. Mother Bat thought for a moment. Then she decreed that during his long exile, she would test him three times. If on each occasion he conducted himself ethically and did good instead of evil, she would reward him, and, upon his passing the last test, would remove the curse.

Many years passed. The White King tried to do good; but the people were so afraid of him that they ran whenever he appeared. He eked out a meager existence in a mountain cave, gathering what nuts and roots he could. The weather was bitterly cold, and although he foraged daily for firewood, the flames barely kept him warm. Gradually, he began to lose hope. He aged rapidly and eventually was reduced to begging scraps from passing travelers.

One winter morning, he heard a scream. Grasping his staff, he ran down the mountain and onto the roadway. Three men were savagely beating a frail old woman. The king fell upon the attackers and knocked them unconscious. Then he gathered the old woman in his arms and conveyed her to his cave. He lit a fire, dressed her wounds, and by cradling her head, induced her to drink hot tea. Eventually, she stopped shivering.

The cave began to change, and after a few moments, was transformed into a tall, sumptuously decorated chamber that was bathed in a soft light and suffused with the smell of incense. Despite a large window that was open to the night air, the room was comfortably warm due to a fire that was burning in a marble fireplace. At the center of the chamber stood a large canopy bed whose legs, posts, and rails were intricately carved in ebony, and whose bedclothes and draperies were made of the finest silks.

The old woman arose and faced him. A pair of large black wings grew out of her shoulders and began to flap slowly and powerfully. As she lifted off the carpet and hovered in the air, her body metamorphosed into that of a voluptuous blue skinned woman. Her white hair turned green and became long, thick, and lustrous. Her rags transformed into a black boudoir ensemble that consisted of soft sandals, long stockings, a scant loincloth, and long satin gloves. From an opening in the back of her loincloth, a tail emerged, grew in length, and swelled out at the tip into a large diamond shape that twitched from side to side, like the tail tip of a hungry cat who is about to pounce. She smiled sensually.

"My name is Ariadne," said the succubus. "I am a daughter of the goddess, Mother Bat. When I passed through puberty, she endowed me with wings and taught me to fly. In order to maintain the strength of my flight muscles, I must consume a large amount of semen nightly. So I am compelled to fly far and wide in search of worthy men. You have passed her first test, and I am to reward you with one night of sexual bliss."

Gesturing with her hands, the succubus raised the White King into the air and removed his clothing. Then she propelled him backward between the bedposts and placed him supine upon the sheets. She floated over the bed, rotating until she hung prone in the air above him, and descended onto the mattress, planting her knees on either side of his head. Puckering her lips, she kissed his penis, which responded by swelling and hardening. She slid her palms down his abdomen, pressed her thumbs against the base of his shaft, and with her fingertips, caressed the undersides of his testicles. Then she opened her mouth wide, closed it around his glans, and proceeded to fellate him.

The White King opened his mouth wide in amazement. Never had the women of his harīm given him such pleasure. Although they had continually professed to love him, he had sensed their insincerity. Often, as he coupled with them, he had wondered idly what real love might be like. Now he realized that he had never been loved; and despite his hardened heart, he was unable to suppress a feeling of grief. But the succubus was able to see inside him, and when she perceived his sadness, she immediately ceased fellating him. Rising into the air, she turned and regarded him curiously.

The succubus was perplexed and intrigued. Her brow wrinkled in thought for some time. Then a look of calm determination suffused her face. She lowered herself onto the carpet and stood a short distance from the side of the bed, facing him. Her wings and tail withdrew into her body. Methodically, she stepped out of her clothing, climbed into bed, and lowered herself onto him. The White King felt the warmth of her body, as she pressed her breasts, abdomen, and hips against him. She slid her arms under his back, embraced him, and kissed him passionately.

Expertly, the succubus worked her way down his body. She planted her lips upon his chest, kissed it, and then made lazy circles with her tongue. She did so again a second and third time and slid her mouth down onto his abdomen. She paused to press the tip of her tongue into his navel before continuing down his pubis. Then she grasped his hand and sucked his fingers one by one.

His breath was coming hard; she could feel his diaphragm and intercostal muscles surging in and out beneath her. She disengaged from him and crouched down over his pubis. Reaching beneath her, she wrapped one hand around his erection, and, with the other, spread open her labia. Then she lowered herself onto his penis and allowed him to push it into her as far as it would go. The succubus raised her face, closed her eyes, cupped her hands over her breasts, and rolled her nipples between her fingers. She flexed and relaxed her thigh muscles repeatedly, each time raising, then lowering her body, while squeezing her sphincter muscles. The king commenced to thrust in time with her motions. Beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. He opened his mouth wide and gasped for air. Abruptly, his body began to shudder. Quickly, the succubus separated from him and lay down between his legs. She closed her lips around his glans, wrapped both hands around his shaft, and masturbated him vigorously. An immense load of semen issued from the tip of his penis. Each time he spurted, she moaned with pleasure and swallowed.

Throughout the night, they made love repeatedly. Then, when the sun's first rays brushed the windowsill, the succubus flew out the window and disappeared into the morning mist. Gradually, the sumptuous chamber melted away until, at last, he found himself, once again, alone on the dirt floor of his cave.

ξ

Whenever the White King gathered firewood, if he came across a solid piece of oak or cedar, he put it aside. Eventually, he learned to carve and soon was transforming the choice pieces he had saved into wondrous animal figurines, which he was able to trade for food in the local marketplace.

One spring afternoon, after a heavy rainfall, he was walking along the road that led into town when he came upon a traveling merchant. His wagon had become stuck in the mud, and his three horses had exhausted themselves attempting to pull it free. He had dismounted and was beating them with an iron prod which cut painful gouges in their flesh. The beasts were streaked with blood and screaming in agony, but because their feet had become mired in the mud, they couldn't fight back or escape.

Recognizing that his truce with the local people was fragile, the king had been careful to stay out of their affairs. Now, he averted his eyes and passed by the unfortunate horses and their brutal master. But their plaintive screams moved him. During the days of his ascendency, he had killed and maimed many men; but cruelty to his horses had been unthinkable; for he greatly valued their courage and loyalty in battle.

Wary of incurring Mother Bat's wrath again, he struggled to suppress his growing rage, and, as he turned back, resolved to be diplomatic.

"Excuse me, sir," he said. "Perhaps I can be of help."

"Mind your own business, old man," shouted the merchant. Cursing his horses, he redoubled the beatings.

The king took a step closer. "I mean no disrespect, sir, but in my time, I have cared for many horses. Perhaps if you allow me to handle them, your wagon can be freed."

But the merchant spun and struck at the king with the metal prod. Instinctively, he parried with his walking staff, but this only infuriated his attacker. Swiftly drawing his knife, he slashed the king across the chest. The White King struck him with his staff and rendered him unconscious. Then he turned toward the frantic horses and approached them.

"Ho, big brothers. Ho," he said in a calming voice. The horses lunged a little less violently. "Let me see your wounds." The animals calmed. They were still breathing hard, but they allowed him to walk closer. One by one, he stroked their backs and patted their sides while inspecting their injuries. He walked to a nearby stream, cupped his palms together under the surface, ferried the water back to one of the horses, and encouraged it to drink. He did the same for the other two, continually murmuring reassuring words. Then he washed their wounds, unhitched them, and attempted to lead them out of the mud.

Just then, some local peasants approached from town. They offered their assistance, and after some effort, together they managed to free the horses. The king asked the peasants to carry the unconscious merchant to the Inn and to reassure the innkeeper that he would pay for the merchant's care. There was no one in town who knew how to care for an injured horse, so the king led the horses up the mountain. The animals were exhausted, and the climb was long and difficult; but eventually, they arrived at his shelter, where he lit a fire to warm them.

Then, to his utter surprise, once again, the cave changed into a sumptuous bedchamber. It was even more richly decorated than the last; but beneath its magnificent canopy, instead of a bed, there was a complex, strangely fashioned piece of furniture. It consisted of four elaborately padded and decorated seats, three of which were arranged side by side in a shallow arc. The fourth seat was located directly in front of the middle of the three, facing them, and was slightly raised and tilted backward at a moderate angle. Attached to its front legs were two braces that angled outward, and, mounted on the end of each, there was a single padded stirrup.

He turned and regarded the horses. Slowly they transformed into three voluptuous blue skinned succubi, who, by flapping their enormous black wings, rose into the air, and hovered before him. Like Ariadne on the night of his first encounter, they were clad in black boudoir ensembles.

"I am Arial," said one of them, "and these are my sisters, Daphne and Venus. We are daughters of Mother Bat. You have passed her second test, and she has sent us to reward you with another night of sexual bliss."

Gesturing with her hands, Arial caused the king's body to rise into the air and his clothes to slide onto the floor. By pushing her hands forward, she guided him under the canopy, deposited him on the raised seat, and pushed him backward so that he was reclining. Then, with a quick gesture, she opened his legs and guided his feet into the stirrups.

The succubi floated forward and settled themselves on the remaining chairs; Daphne on his right, Venus on his left, and Arial in the middle. Daphne deftly took his right testicle into her mouth, Venus did the same with his left, and Arial clamped her lips around his glans. Giggling happily, the three sisters kissed, licked, and sucked his genitals repeatedly.

After a few moments, they disengaged from him, removed their gloves, and, changed places. Arial playfully rubbed his right testicle with her nose. Daphne wrapped her lips around his left testicle and sucked it lovingly. Venus masturbated him with one hand and reached between his buttocks and the seat with the other. When she found his anus, she pushed her middle finger into his rectum as far as it would go and twisted slowly. Then she fellated him vigorously. The king groaned with pleasure and thrust his hips against her face again and again. His penis grew rock hard in her mouth and began to leap against her palate.

Suddenly, a stream of semen burst out of his meatus and into Venus's throat. Giggling happily, she removed his penis from her mouth and angled it toward Arial, who received a second spurt on her face, and then toward Daphne, who received another. As the throbbing of his penis subsided, the sisters kissed and licked sperm off of each other's faces.

The king's chest was heaving and his body was covered in perspiration. The succubi lifted themselves into the air and descended onto the carpet. From a nightstand, they retrieved fresh towels, a bowl of water, and a ceramic bottle of scented oil. Arial dipped one of the towels into the water and mopped up the excess semen that had fallen onto the king's legs and abdomen. Venus and Daphne washed the perspiration from his body. When they finished, they poured oil onto their hands and massaged his chest, abdomen, arms, and legs. Then Ariel lifted him and turned him over, and the sisters rubbed his buttocks and the muscles on his back.

Ariel righted his body, placed him upon the tilted seat, and guided his feet back into the stirrups. From beneath one of her wings, she produced a sweet smelling flower.

"This is a phallus blossom," she said. "It grows on the side of a remote mountain known only to us. It has the power to regenerate your semen. Open your mouth, my love." The king did as she asked. Grasping the flower's anther, Ariel shook a few grains of pollen onto his tongue. Then she materialized a goblet of wine and instructed him to drink. The king complied and quickly was seized with desire. His penis swelled, hardened, and stood upright. He grasped Ariel, pulled off her loincloth, and lowered her onto his hips. Then he pushed his penis into her and thrust repeatedly until she underwent a massive orgasm. When she regained her breath, he ravished Daphne and Venus likewise.

After hours of repeated lovemaking, the king fell into a deep sleep. When he awoke, he found himself once again alone in his cave.

ξ

Many years passed. The king's hair turned white and his face wrinkled, but, nevertheless, he retained a youthful vitality and, whenever possible, practiced his martial skills.

One day, in need of money, the king decided to sell his most recent carvings in the town market. Gathering them into a large satchel, he picked up a wooden bench and walked down the mountain and into the town. Over the years, the attitude of the townsfolk toward him had evolved from fear to surliness, then from surliness to acceptance, and finally, from acceptance to friendliness. As he made his way to the town square, he was greeted cordially. He found an unoccupied place in the market, set up his bench, and arrayed his carvings upon it. As the sun rose higher, from time to time, people stopped to admire his work, and a few made purchases.

Just before noon, the king heard a commotion. A young man had run out of the forest via the town road and into the marketplace. The elders quickly were summoned, and when the boy regained his breath, he announced that a massive army of turbaned warriors had emerged from the western desert and was sweeping through the countryside. Each time they had subdued a town, they had made each resident choose between being beheaded or accepting their religion, which recognized only one god. Many who tried to repel the invaders were killed, and, when the towns capitulated, many more were beheaded. Farms and fields were laid waste, and towns, burned to the ground.

People in the marketplace began to scream. No one knew what to do. Everyone fled for their lives. Everyone but one.

The White King picked up his staff, turned toward the forest, and smiled. He had for so many years been a stranger in a strange land; now, he was at home and in his element; for the king loved nothing more than a good fight. Often, throughout his lonely exile, he had longed for the thrill of battle. But each time, he had reminded himself of the terrible consequences that might befall him should he defy Mother Bat. But now, he had no doubt, whatever killing he might do would be to the good, for he would be defending his neighbors and countrymen.