Zayla and the Perverted King

Zayla was 18, dark-skinned, and a slave. It was inevitable for her to be a slave since she was colored and the product of two slaves, but unfortunate for her because today was the day she'd realize her role as one.

Zayla could be seen walking the slave's quarters after a heavy feasting with a full belly and a smile on her face from all the food, cheers, and partying she'd endured.

Since her mother was a respected negro chef, she would help herself over the years to the best dishes none of the other slave girls had access to: cornbread, fried catfish, barbecued ribs, chitterlings, and neckbones, callaloo with fried saltfish, boiled Indian corn, and brined hamhocks. All of which helped mold her body into the ebony pear-shape it was, with her more gas-inducing favorite treats giving her best assets.

But once a slave girl in the Holloway Kingdom turned 18, she had to be caste into one of three categories: a Seducer, a Producer or a Forager. You could be the Kingdom's concubine, house cook, or field worker, nothing more, nothing less. Zayla had just turned 18. Never would she have imagined on her 18th birthday though that she'd be casted. Her mother was a Producer, and naturally girl slaves followed suit after their mother. She was born to be a Producer! But the evening of her caste day, the King's guardsmen didn't seem to think so.

She'd just had lunch with the other slaves: fried sweet potato with broiled broccoli and blueberry dip, a treat that would no doubt go straight to her ample rump. In her excitement to finally be caste and taught her mother's delicious ways, she made a stroll for her mother's cooking quarters, when she was accosted by a King's guardsmen.

"Slave," he halted her. His voice was big and brooding, "it is upon this day, June Sixteenth that your Lord and mighty King Holloway orders your servitude. Your reckon day as a Seducer is to begin now. Guards, hold her."

Seducer? Now? She was sure she'd misheard him. Her mother was a Producer, therefore so was she! This wasn't in King's tradition at all, and by the look on the guard's face, he seemed to agree. She was confused, but she couldn't protest to it. Soon after two men took her by both arms into a strange room and tied her to a makeshift bed, knees bent, legs splayed, arms behind her back for her to await the King. Minutes turned to hours, and she was shaking from head to toe. She had heard of how rough previous White kings were with their negro slaves, especially the young ones. Being she was petite and wide-reared she couldn't help but fear that the King would mistake her healthy backside for experience.

Slowly the doors opened. The revered young King of Lordliness and Might, King Daniel of Holloway Manors, walked into the room to marvel at the beautiful sight of his crown glory. Truth be told, he hated that nickname, but it suited him well in this sense. A negro house slave bent over, ass out on his bed. His guards had done well, securing her ankles and wrists tightly to restrain her for his full access. Her smooth chocolate skin glistened, even in her overalls, and her deep chestnut back flared out to ebony thick thighs and a cute puckered ass that made the King think thoughts he probably shouldn't. All of her enamored him. The only problem was he couldn't see her face.

Best if he didn't, he thought. She was just a treat for now. Something he could act his desires on, until he was forced to betroth a proper woman. His cock swelled in his trousers as his eyes never left the girl's healthy bottom.

No doubt she could probably feel his footsteps and his heavy breathing. He couldn't help his excitement. But then he realized. The poor girl must have thought he would ravish her like all the other former kings. That her first time would be with a selfish king to assault her delicate "flower" in the name of the kingdom's tradition. But he was no traditional king as she would soon find out.

He bent down on one knee and slowly lifted her frilly dress to reveal her underclothing. Slaves were not given the pleasure of wearing fine silks, so instead she had slightly ruffled cotton undergarments on that were stained from years of wear and decay. He felt a slight twitch in his nether region knowing what he was to reveal.

Pulling her garments to her ankles, he revealed a thick juicy ass with a cute puckered pink asshole. Exactly as he'd imagined it, he thought. Her two thick chocolate cakes jiggled in his face, no disturbance needed. Just as he'd imagined, he thought He knew after seeing her protruding backside swaying effortlessly at one of the Kingdom's night feasts that he had to have a taste.

Even looking at her ass in person up close, made blood rush to his heaving cock. He felt her whimper as he threw her pantyhose to the floor and quickly stripped the buttons down the middle of her dress to expose her perfect naked physique. Her dress drooped to the floor limply, and he could feel her shivering in his warm hands. He roamed his hands over her back and down the sides of her legs to warm her up, and she stilled some.

He wanted to smell her first, and he would, finally. When he spread her cheeks and nestled his long and narrow nose between them, he instantly smelled the smoked barbecued bean smell from her last dump, now the smell of home to his nostrils.

"Mmmm," He took a big whiff of her bottom, his cock straining against his trousers. It intoxicated him. He wanted more. He wanted to smell her so good he could taste her, as if she was just coming from wiping herself from a monster dump . He buried his nose until his nostrils were in the crevice of her asshole when he heard her inevitable squeal.

"S-sir?"... She was trembling bad now, but she was more confused than afraid. All she'd felt was a huge volume of pressure in her ass cheeks and then moaning. Wait, was that the King's moaning? Was the King moaning from her ass? Was the King's face...in...her... No , no no no no!

"S-sir please I...My bottom..." she whimpered out suddenly feeling a wetness between her legs. His hot breath on her behind, plus her heavy bean and corn fix this morning, spelled trouble for her bowel movements. The last thing she wanted to be known for was being the impudent slave who sharted on the King while performing her duties! It simply wouldn't do. It couldn't!

She tried with futile attempt to stretch her tied hands outward to push his face away from her backside, and earned a hard slap to her buttocks in response. She blushed a warm red. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt weirdly admired. Surely he wouldn't be admiring the stink there if she moved improperly!

Determined to prevent any further humiliation, she continued her silent protest, wiggling her hips opposite-wards and spreading her legs just enough so that his face wasn't sandwiched in. Almost there, she told herself...just one...more...shimmy...and...

*Pffffffrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrttttttt!*

"Oooohhhhhhhh," the King indulged in a loud moan, as a wet plopping sound escaped from her cheeks into his waiting nostrils. The young squirming woman had just queefed. It was a wet one as well. The poor girl's attempt at modesty was working in his favor. He almost felt bad, but her bottom was glistening and her little pink rectum was still damp from his nostril session and the little queef dance she'd made. He would reward her.

"Haaaaghghhhh!!" Instead of a scowl or scolding, Zayla felt a wet tongue dip into her queef juices. She was beyond floored. Any ounce of dignity as a slave she once had, was now flushed down the toilet. To her surprise the King was moaning with pleasure. Moaning from a slave's lowliest deposit in his mouth? It was unheard of!

His cock threatened to burst free from his trousers, he almost couldn't take it anymore. Unbuckling his pants, he freed himself and rapidly jerked off his throbbing member as he buried his tongue in her juices.

"Mmmm" he moaned, dipping his tongue into the crevice of her tush for a taste of more of her wet farts.

Meanwhile she was releasing fart after wet fart. Her farts seemed to get bigger and wetter and she couldn't stop trembling each time. From the humiliation or the pleasure he didn't know. But the idea of her unable to control her flowing gasses from either scenario sent him into overload. Her fumes flooded his nostrils, and he took a sharper intake of breath clapping her cheeks onto his face.

"Aaaahhh!" She squealed. The King was lapping at her love juices like a mad man. And jerking himself off to her? What kind of King was this?

"S-sir...is this...are you...oh!" Before she could get out a coherent sentence, his mouth had moved from her ass to her vagina. And in her embarrassment it was slick with her juices! It was as if trying to coax a kid out of a candy store.

"Again," he shuddered out in a low moan, "Again, my sweet,"

If he could've seen her face. She was beet red, and by now, she knew what he was asking of her. She couldn't stop the flow of her gasses anymore than she could stop her bladder after a gallon of guava juice. Defeated, she let out another loose wet fart that elicited a guttural moan from the King. As a reward the King eagerly sucked her entire fat clitoris into his mouth.

The pleasure overwhelmed her. She was sure she was thrashing against the bed, like a fish in a barrel. His mouth was like a hot wet vacuum on her lips, she was sure she would combust. She whined and whimpered, pleading for mercy on her aching clit, but the King was relentless. After kicking and squealing for several more minutes, she cried out, feeling a pool of liquid leak out from her moist lips, and into the sweet perverted mouth of the King.

They both sighed out after that explosive session. She was flustered. Any pretense of modesty or civility was thrown out the window in that moment. She had just orgasmed before the late King! After farting last week's (and this morning's she couldn't lie) breakfast, lunch, and dinner in gas form into his perverted mouth no less. And what's worse, she had orgasmed before the King did, if that was even allowed of a Seducer. It was a perversion unlike anything seen in the Kingdom! She was bringing shame to her own ancestors!

It was then the King relieved his face from the worship of her asshole and straightened up. He motioned for her to wriggle him out, and she did. He then stood, bent over her and positioned himself so that his dick stood prominently out parallel to her backside, while he watched his balls disappear in the globes of her ass.

"You're better than I ever imagined," he sighed out, almost as if he'd had the orgasm instead of the girl, "A true gift. Feel my manhood on your back and pearls on your cunt, love. Sing to them as you've sung to my face."

The girl under him shuddered but let out an effortless fart that sounded like two gurgling wet riptides exploding on his balls. He never moaned so loud in his life.

"You learn so well, sweet." He moaned, massaging her cheeks to his balls and watching his pre-cum pearl onto her back. "Such a good sweet cunt,"

He would apologize to the Skies that day for every time he'd said the Lord's name in vain, because it seemed that God had answered him by bringing Heaven on Earth to his ballsack. Rein after rein of wet farts assaulted his balls in that tiny span. He never felt more moist. And at the end of it—he thought he heard the slave girl moan.

Not having to hold in her string of farts, and hearing the King's moans was starting to have an effect on Zayla. She sighed out as the past week's carbons exited her body, free to assault the air of whomever came near her.

All the while he was trying to maintain his composure, gritting his teeth. He knew he wouldn't last much longer with her on his spent cock and had to act fast.

With a quickness, he released the ties to her ankles and wrists and flipped the both of them so that he was lying on his back on the bed, and she was on top. She jumped at the sudden movement, and in her haste, reached her arms out to stop herself from falling. She landed with her bottom and hands on his chest cowgirl style, and it was then she realized that this was the first time they were seeing each other face to face; like it was building up to this point for them to find each other.

King Daniels nearly froze as he stared up at the ebony beauty whose body and now face had milked his soul. She was beautiful with kinky curls that he hadn't noticed tickled her cheeks when she was nervous. Her nose was a cute freckled button, and her face heart-shaped and pure looking. Her eyes a big bold caramel, much lighter than her deep Hershey kissed complexion, but deeper than the rich blush of her lips, so rich he could almost kiss them.

Zayla stared into the King, nearly as speechless as he. He was beautiful. Dirty blonde ringlets that fell around his face, and a boyish look that made him look like a young Henry the VIII. He was closer to her age, to her surprise, maybe 19 or 20. And with looks this handsome, she couldn't help feel a newer entitlement overcome her. She had just seduced the King, his Lord and Mighty, at just 18, and seen him grovel for her in more humiliating positions that any Mistress for a King possibly ever. She felt like the most powerful person in the room right now, more powerful than any cook, or fielder, or human, and in a twisted way she was starting to love it.

Daniel needed to give no instruction. She gave him a sly wink, scooting upwards so that her love nest was just over his narrow lips, before she let her bottom do its magic as she rode his face to her own orgasm. They both moaned in unison with Zayla stroking his erect cock with the smalls of her hand. Her small hands traveled up and down his purple shaft, while he licked her rosebud and its juices with complete and utter focus.

It went on like this for what felt like minutes before he felt his release. He let out a guttural moan, and with a grunt he came, spilling his seed into her soft fingers. Zayla soon followed, shuddering into him, and in that moment, they held each other with a ferocious lust. The room was filled with just their panting for several seconds. Then, she rolled over to the side, cleaning his cock with a soft maiden towel as he caught his breath.

He stared at her cock-hungry face, and up the starry ceiling, feeling a content he'd never felt before. Was he a perverted king? Yes, no question. He always knew there was something quite *unrefined* he should say, about his sexual appetite. He'd come to admit that. But this was the first time ever that his prayers had been answered with a slave girl who was a match— if not more talented in his tastes than he could ever imagine. He smiled at the little minx he turned out. From this day forward he knew the Kingdom would never be the same, and he would be sure that with his reign would come new tradition. Tradition that involved a new, delicious, eager slave named...Zayla, was it?

Yes, he would definitely be seeing more of Zayla very soon.