Delusions Of Grandeur

PROLOGUE

The Well-Endowed King strutted down the halls of his palace feeling quite content. His personal guard Max marched ten paces ahead, scanning the perimeter the way he always did. The loyal and faithful Toillette paced meekly behind The King. The King was feeling pleased with himself and his Kingdom. Everything was well and all conflicts had been resolved. He had a beautiful Prince who was growing strong and has proven to be both intelligent and agile. He was the “spitting image” of his father.

The Queen was expecting again and soon he would have another Royal Heir. The best feature the Queen possessed was her ability to “look the other way” from his continued sexual indiscretions. The King did nothing to change his “swinger” lifestyle but he incorporated the Queen into his usual rotation. He knew she resented his dalliances, but comforted herself in the knowledge that she was in the elevated position of being Queen of the Kingdom and all the perks that came with that position. Besides, The Queen learned to fill her loneliness with activities of her own. The King could care less as long she bore his heirs.

The King rubbed his full stomach as he walked the long halls. Miss Loreen had outdone herself today. Dinner was exceptional! He demanded his servant, Legs, to refill his plate at least three times. He knew he would soon be filling a chamber pot to the rim. Hell, he would have to work his trainer extra hard tomorrow, just to melt away some of calories he had consumed.

He watched Max from behind. It amused him to see how protective he was. Max seemed to be looking everywhere all at once. His hand holding his sheaved sword as if someone would jump out of the shadows and try to take The King’s life. He had no reason to worry. Every subject loved The King. There hadn’t been a serious attack on his life in over a year. His army had secured both his palace and every village in his Kingdom. Those that worked for him were rewarded handsomely for their loyalty. The Royal Cock also stood strong as if validating his power.

The halls seemed longer this evening. The King felt as if he had been walking forever. He was even beginning to become winded. He had to remember not to indulge himself like this again. He had put on so much weight, lifting his muscular legs began to be a chore. He could feel his heart beating in his chest. The King’s age must be catching up with him. Although he worked out every day, he obviously couldn’t beat the ravishes of time. Without warning, he felt one of his knees buckle. He didn’t fall, but he did stumble.

Toillette noticed, but attributed it to all the alcohol The King imbibed at dinner. It did keen her focus on The King. He seemed unsteady in his usual gait. Even the Royal Cock seemed to droop as if it too were drunk. She wondered if she should alert Max to the King’s condition. Before she could act, The King dropped to his knee.

Max both heard and felt The King’s collapse. He immediately rushed to The King’s side. He lifted The King to his feet. “Are you okay, Your Majesty?”

“Of course, I am!” The King slurred. “I must have drunken more than I thought. Help me to my chambers. I need to lie down.”

Max wrapped his arms around The King’s waist to steady him, but he was becoming increasingly like deadweight. He was beginning to drag him down the hall, rather than assist his walking. Toillette ran to the other side of The King to help Max. She was so small and frail she did little more than lean him.

“Why is my chamber so far away? Why does the room keep spinning? I can’t figure out if I’m on the floor or the ceiling.” Suddenly, The King was struck with an unbearable stabbing pain in his gut. He bent forward and began vomiting on his fine marble floor.

Max was in total distress. He picked up The King and began running him into his private chambers. He had seen The King far more intoxicated without such adverse reactions. Toillette ran ahead and opened the heavy steel doors, with great effort. Max thanked her and quickly laid The King in his great bed. Not, before The King managed to throw up a foulness that could not be found in drink onto his chest. It looked like The King was throwing up parts of his organs because it was thick and the color of blood. “Get the Royal Physician in here immediately!” Max screamed to Toillette, who seemed to be paralyzed with fear. The thunderous sound of Max’s voice seemed to shake her out of her state and she ran full speed out of the door yelling “Help!”

The King squeezed his arms around his abdomen both screaming and moaning unintelligibly. Max tried to comfort him, but it was if The King was no longer aware he was even there. The King continued to vomit his bright red insides. Max physically turned him over on his side so that he wouldn’t choke on his own vomit. The King was burning with fever and drenching the bed in sweat. It seemed like a lifetime before Toillette returned with both The Queen and the Royal Physician. Toillette had also brought towels to begin cleaning up the mess. She was also thoughtful enough to bring a cool towel to place on The King’s forehead. The Royal Physician examined their fallen King. He tried to give him some medicine to quell the vomiting, but The King immediately vomited it back up.

“What is wrong with my husband! How did he become this way? Don’t just stand there, Do something!” The Queen demanded to everyone at once.

“I don’t know what happened. The King was fine and in good spirits after supper. We were making our way back to his chamber when he started behaving like he was drunk.” Max stated with deep concern in his eyes. If something had happened to The King on his watch, he would never forgive himself. With the Queen, the physician, and Toillette surrounding him, all he could do was pace back and forth, looking for the first opportunity to be needed.

“Poisoned!” The Queen yelled. “Someone has poisoned my husband!”

“Calm down, Your Majesty, it could be an allergic reaction. I need to exam him more thoroughly.” The Physician said softly and comfortingly, although, he too suspected poison.

He could barely move around to get a good look at The King because Toillette was busy cleaning up The King’s mess and simultaneously wiping the sweat from his face. “Excuse me, Toillette, I really need to get a better assessment of The King’s condition.”

“Of course, Sir. Please do everything you can to help my King.” Toillette bowed away to stand by Max’s side. Max wrapped his big arm around her and drew her face into his abdomen. She quickly dampened his tunic with her tears. He understood everything she was feeling and would love to hide his tears in her hair, but as Head of Security, he had to keep a stoic, but concerned look on his face. He did his best to hide the tears welling up in his eyes.

The Royal Physician attempted to skillfully exam The King. The King was in a state of agony and wasn’t aware of anyone around him. He continued to writhe, roll, and moan while clutching his stomach. A pink foam began to form on his lips. What looked like tears of blood was falling from his eyes. His throat became bright red and then began to swell. He couldn’t breathe! As he lay there choking, he felt his bowels release. The Royal Cock seemed to have shriveled up inside his body. He clawed at his throat to take in air. He unconsciously fought the Physician while ripping the flesh from his own throat. All he could see was a bright red light as he threw up what would have looked like pieces of his organs, but they only served to clog his throat further because it was too swollen to allow anything to pass. Soon the bright red light dimmed and then turned into a bright white one. The King no longer felt any pain or even a need to breath. In fact, his peace came on so suddenly, he began to worry about the people he cared most about and how this horror was affecting them. He looked down on Max and Toillette who both looked so distressed he wanted to hug them close. His Queen was irate and shaking the Physician, demanding he do something! The King chuckled at the scene as everyone and everything flew from view.

MONDAY

Just A Regular Morning

As the sun begins to rise, preparations begin. The cooks gather fresh fruits and vegetables from the garden. They must be cleaned and prepared for His Highnesses Royal breakfast. Fresh eggs must be gathered and cows milked. Luckily for them the butter is churned the night before and the animals have already been slaughtered and are awaiting preparation inside the smokehouse. A Royal feast is always prepared because it is unknown how many people they will be serving. Their King is both generous and entitled and demands to always have enough to feed up to twenty people at every breakfast. This is generally the smallest meal preparation for the day. There are always at least ten kitchen staff working for every meal.

The Royal bathers begin the process of heating buckets of water they have carried from the well. The Royal tub is made of solid marble and is the large enough for ten people to bath without ever having to touch. So, the task of filling and heating it twice every day can be quite exhausting for the three young beautiful women whom bathed The King. Often, they would flirt with the Royal guards to help with the heavier labor. Once the tub is filled they begin the process distributing fresh flowers and immersing them in the water until there smell rises in the steam. They arrange the homemade soaps for easy distribution. Then they remove their clothing and wait for The King’s arrival. They often spend this time talking about the events of yesterday, local gossip, and eagerly awaiting the awakening of The King.

The Royal guards greet their daytime replacements and updates them of any events during the evening. They quietly laugh as they exchange stories of the great King and his many dalliances. Their unconventional King never ceased to amaze anyone with his brazen disregard for morality. Although, they won’t complain. There are many benefits to working closely to The King. Their Kingdom was a source of envy and disgust throughout all the territories. Many have tried to dethrone The King, by force, by manipulation, they have used money, seduction, even assassins. What they never count on is the loyalty and respect that his subjects have for their King. Each one would happily give their own life to protect him. He was a generous King.

As The King, peacefully slumbers, he remains unaffected by the all the hurried actions of his loyal subjects. His heavy solid steel chamber doors cocoon him from outside disturbances. The exchange of his personal guard is done quickly and quietly outside the door of his luxurious chambers. Snuggled in pillows and bedcovers of the softest downs and silk. He lays in the center of his circular eight-person bed, surrounded by delicate netting that hangs from the ceiling, protecting him even from the peskiness of insects. In the corner of his room is a smaller bed resembling more of a chaise lounge. On this bed, Toillette has begun to arise.

Toillette is The King’s most constant companion. She goes everywhere with The King. Although The King may have more than one personal bodyguard, he only has one Toillette. She is never off duty and always on call. She was never more than a few feet from The King always. She’s a small little thing, barely five feet tall and she weighs about one hundred pounds soaking wet. She is not unattractive, more like indistinct. Her mousy brown hair was shoulder length without wave or curl. Her most distinctive feature was her beautiful grey eyes, that reflect the light with a myriad of colors. Only, no one ever considered them. One often forgot she was even there until called upon by The King. She was unmarried and childless and her only love was her King. She delighted at being at his disposal. His need for her was ecstasy. He made her happier than she believed possible. He could have chosen anyone to have what she believed to be his essence, but he gave it to her. So, she arose every morning with anticipation because she was the first person he sought for every day. She arose quietly, used the chamber pot next to her bed, stretched so she can make sure her body was limber and waited. When the guard, Max, began his walk toward the draperies to let in the day’s light, she arose. It was her duty to awaken The King. The only way The King ever wanted to be awakened was with his penis being suckled by a warm mouth. Toillette never disappointed The King. For her it was an adventure. She never knew what she was going to get. The King was always turgid first thing in the morning. So, as she wrapped her lips around his long thick shaft she allowed her tongue to lightly caress as much of the head and shaft as she could. She wanted to enjoy the feeling of his hot thick silky smooth skin on her tongue. If she licked or sucked too hard he would awaken, finish with her and she would be forced to wait in anticipation for the next time her summoned her. She closed her eyes and inhaled the sweet musky scent of him. Heat radiated from his skin from under his thick downy bedding. She snuggled her body as close to his as she dared. Knowing this would be the closest she would be to him all day. Her heart rate began to increase as she allowed herself to surrender to her desires. The pressure and speed of her tongue intensified involuntarily as her breathing became heavy and deep. Realizing her time was fleeting she wormed her tongue around every centimeter of his generous thirteen-inch cock before lightly licking his ball sack pausing only to fill her mouth with each teste, one at a time. The more she licked the more insatiable she became, rubbing his warm shaft down her face as her tongue slid behind his balls into his taint. He began to stir. Playtime was over. She returned to the head of his dick and slowly and methodically began descending towards her hands that were wrapped around the bottom of the shaft. Applying pressure, she twisted her hands in opposite directions while filling her mouth with as much of him as she could manage while she waited for him to awaken and acknowledge her presence.

The King awoke as he always did, with a smile on his face. The morning sun warming his face and clearing his vision. He stretched his naked well-toned body leisurely. He was, of course fully aware of the warm wetness of Toillette’s mouth. She was there every morning. The King wanted to always be awaken with fellatio. The Royal Cock was powerful and magnanimous and deserved to be treated accordingly. Toillette had awakened him this way every day for 5 years. Ever since she was given to him, as a virgin, at the tender age of seventeen. He originally believed her to be a common deflowering but her special talents made it impossible to imagine his life without her. He reached down and rested his large hand on the back of her head as he contemplated his day. He would be auditioning dancers for upcoming feasts and events. He would need his stamina if the auditions went as well as he hoped. No. He could not afford to diminish his strength or show even a small amount of weakness. The Royal Cock will be at full mast when he walks in and takes a seat on his thrown. He tenderly grabs Toillette by her hair to keep her in place as he sits up while simultaneously throwing his legs over the bed and planting his feet on the floor. This signals Toillette that she will not be dining on his Royal cum this morning. Although a little disappointed because she would love to hold his power in her mouth for the twenty or thirty minutes it would take for him to ejaculate. Toillette is still happy to consume his essence in any form and opens her throat while sealing her lips in preparation for the hot flow of The King’s urine. Although his stream is strong and slams into the back of her throat, she is prepared for it and continues to swallow and suck until not one drop has spilled. The King pats her head in gratitude and stands to his full height of six foot five inches. Naked as the day he was born. He stretches more thoroughly. His muscles defined and glistening with the sweat of a warm night’s sleep. His skin color is somewhere between gold and copper and shines like precious metal. His hair is full and black and flows down his back like waves on the ocean. Thick black eyebrows rest above eyes that are shaped like large almonds with pupils as black as his hair. The King' eyelashes are so long his eyes looked so shrouded that they often appeared to look at you with either desire or amusement. His nose is aquiline but not beak like. His lips were full and often dampened by his tongue. His cheekbones are high and his chin is strong and covered in the soft beginnings of a newly forming beard. He found body hair to be a hindrance so the only hair he allowed on his body was the ones that rested on his head. He was the most beautiful man in all his Kingdom and the surrounding Territories. Yet, you could practically smell his testosterone. He walked with his back straight, his head high, his shoulders wide and The Royal Cock leading his way. His body wasn’t scarred up from many battles because he was both intelligent and charming and people generally conceded to his will. Although, he was smart enough to be prepared for battle when necessary. He mastered several arts of battle and weaponry. He practiced for an hour almost every day to keep his stamina high, his muscles tight and to remind himself to always be prepared for attack.

Toillette slinked back into the shadows. The King smiled and strolled over to Max, his most personal bodyguard, who was already holding The King's robe to wrap around his naked body. Max did this, not because The King was bashful about his body, but because there was often a chill in the room. Max was an imposing sight at six feet nine inches. His back was broad and his skin dark as the night sky. His muscles were so veiny and thick, he looked like he might pop. He could easily lift The King into his arms and carry him like a baby, if only The King would allow it. Still, there was a kindness in his eyes. At least there was when he looked at The King. Most people never looked him directly in the eyes because his brow was so prominent it seemed to shield his dark eyes with a shadow. He kept his tightly curled hair cut short and his full beard trim. His lips were full and even darker than his skin, but they covered bright white, perfectly shaped teeth. When he smiled, it was as if a light turned on. Most never saw it, however. Like The King, there was no hair on his chest and back, but his was this way because none grew there. Max held The King in such high regard he would happily warm him with his own body or even his breath, but that wasn’t what The King wanted. Max opened the heavy chamber doors and lead The King to his bathing chamber. Toillette indiscernibly followed The King. His three bathers were already at the door, removing his robe and leading him into his bath. The heating of the water was timed so that when The King arrived it would be slightly above warm. The bathers began soaping The King’s glorious frame as soon as he took his first step into the water. They did it softly and seductively the way they had been trained to do. All three were beauties and handpicked by The King himself. Their job was not only to thoroughly clean and shave The King, but awaken The Royal Cock for presentation to the court. This task had to be accomplished by any means necessary. The King had fluctuating tastes so the bathers had to be willing to perform any sexual act required. The most effective way to determine what pleasures The King desired was constant contact with the Royal Cock. They would try washing him with their bodies. If that didn’t work, two of them would seduce each other while the third continued to bathe and groom him. After that it would be a hodgepodge of fellatio, cunnilingus, analingus, and mutual masturbation. However, everything must be completed within an hour because of The King’s responsibilities. The bathers preferred the days when Toillette does not dine on the Royal cum. The Royal Cock hardened quickly and each bather would get to feel it inside her until they are bursting. The King would never orgasm with his bathers. That would be defeating the purpose. Luckily The King had not only endurance but discipline as well. He came only when he was ready.

Once The King had been thoroughly groomed and the Royal Cock was so hard it stuck straightforward like a sword, Max would happily dress him. Max was happy for any opportunity to touch The King. The King preferred to wear leather boots, a belted thigh high leather tunic with cut strips around his thighs. (Supposedly this was for freedom of movement, but mostly it was so the girth, length and strength of the Royal Cock would be visible for everyone to see. He was a vain King and liked being envied.) He had a leather baldric strap that went over shoulder and across his chest to hold his sword, but he seldom carried his sword in the palace. He believed the Royal Cock to be a greater weapon anyway. He did like to adorn himself in jewels and precious metals. Besides the Royal ring, he wore at least one band on every finger. He draped gold and copper around his neck, which only brought out the beauty of his skin color even more. He wore diamonds, emeralds, and rubies in both ears. A gold crown accented with diamonds adorn his stately head. A couple of last minute tugs on the Royal Cock, by Max and The King was ready to breakfast with his court.

The Royal Cock was always the first to enter the Royal Throne room. Unlike other kings who have a separate chamber where meals are held, The King wanted to always address everyone from his throne. It was a glorious, if not ostentatious throne. It came equipped with removable sides, the back had rungs on it that can be used for foot holds or straps, there was also a lever that could instantly change the seat into a commode with a chamber pot at the bottom, so that The King didn’t even have to get up to defecate. The King demanded the large table that seats twenty be brought into the Royal Throne room for meals and promptly removed for other pending business, only to be brought back in for the next meal. The table would be already set, but no guests could be seated before The King made his entrance. All eyes are trained on the entrance when the Master Butler, Leonard announces The King’s arrival. Everyone stood along both sides of the royal carpet to welcome the arrival of The King. Almost every eye is drawn to the Royal Cock. Admittedly, it is a site to see; thirteen inches from base to tip and five inches in diameter, so turgid you can see the veins bulging. Completely unembarrassed by the scrutiny of his nether regions, The Kings leisurely strolls to his throne casually greeting his waiting guests as he walks by. The usual peerage is in attendance. Almost every seat was filled with Lords and Ladies, Dukes, and Duchesses, The General, the Vicar, and the Regent. The food cannot be served until the arrival of The King. Some of his subject’s stomachs’ growls were louder than the music the musicians were ordered to play throughout the meal. Some had waited more than an hour because no matter when The King arrives everyone had better be already waiting. A tardy entrance would be grounds for punishment. The King saw this as a form of disrespect and The King did not tolerate disrespect of any kind. Once The King is seated, the kitchen staff starts bringing in platters of foods and placing them on the table. Hard-boiled eggs, fried eggs, four kinds of fruit, three kinds of bread, pork sausage, bacon, Fish, sweet mush, wine, grog, butter, cream, and milk. The King lifted his plate in the air. His personal servant girl whom he called “Legs”, took the plate and proceeded to ask at every platter if “it would suit, Your Majesty”? He would answer only with a wave of his hand or a nod of his head. She then brought back his full plate and went through the drink options one by one. Once The King was officially served he would call out to his Court “Eat…Eat!” Pandemonium would practically break out from the now starving guests rushing to fill their plates so they too can eat. They cannot dally because once The King is done eating, the table and everything on it is taken away and the chairs would be removed. However, since most present are continuous fixtures at breakfast they have learned to adjust so that their bellies were full. During meal time conversation is at a minimum. There will be time to talk once the table had been removed.

“I am full!” The King declared. Almost immediately his plate and cup are removed and the kitchen staff come out and remove everything from the table. Four palace guards pick the table up and remove it from the room.

This is the Intermission. Everyone except The King, gets up and moves off to the sidelines to mingle and use the chamber pots that are curtained off for guests. The King, however simply says, “Toillette”, and pulls the lever on his throne that removes the cushioned part and raises a hollowed-out seat, with a chamber pot beneath it. The King usually takes a Royal shit after every big meal. Not wanting to deprive Toillette the opportunity to drink from him, he leaves his Royal Cock out so she can feast while he defecates in the chamber pot. Toillette appears as if by magic. She quickly drops to her knees and begins sucking the Royal Cock. She wants to make every second count. She doesn’t even notice the rancid smell of his bowels. She is caught up in the ecstasy of The King’s flexible piss filled cock and her ability to nuzzle her face deep in his couch. She practically swallows his dick well before the piss is released. His dick is so far down her throat that the pee goes straight to her stomach without bouncing off her throat. She stays there after the water stops, eyes closed, wishing this moment could last forever, until she hears “Chambermaid!” and knows her time is up for now. She gets off her knees and resumes her place in the shadows. The chambermaid comes removes the dirty pot and replaces it with a clean one. She then proceeds to wipe The King's royal ass with a damp cloth. When she is done, The King pulls the lever, his cushioned seat returns, and the intermission is over. The King does all of this in full view of everyone in the room, but they are all used to this.

The Regent, the Vicar, and the General all have chairs on both sides of The King’s throne. These are his closest advisors. There are six entrances into The Kings Courts. Each one guarded by a large and stoic guard. The rest of the court stand on either side of the thick burgundy rug that runs down the center of the court. This is the time The King will discuss any new business. Anyone in the court may address The King, but they must do it one at a time and they must pay tribute by bowing, kissing the Royal Ring, and then kissing the head of the Royal Cock. You might think this would be a deterrent, but quite the opposite. People would make-up any excuse just to have the opportunity of tasting the Royal Cock. Most believed it had magic powers. Some claimed after kissing the Royal Cock and asking to take their away infirmities they became miraculously cured of the affliction. Some claimed it brought good luck or pregnancy from a previously believed to be barren wife. Rumors of every kind circulated throughout The Kingdom and the surrounding Kingdoms of the magical powers The King had in his Royal Cock. The King didn’t mind the rumors. They often amused him. Plus, he had the added benefit of being able to put his dick in anyone at any time and it would always be welcome. More than anything else, The King liked sex. As a demonstration of his power, The King would stroke his dick constantly without ejaculating, thus giving the impression that the Royal Cock will stay hard for hours. It was practically bursting with power.

The Duchess of Agribar was the first one to pay tribute. She was a soft and cushiony woman that The King had mounted a few times before. Her corset was straining at the seams trying to contain a waistline that belonged to a much smaller woman. Admittedly, his cock jumped in anticipation. The Royal Cock could not see, but he could feel and the Duchess savored his cock like she did a good meal. She often found any excuse to taste him. She lumbered toward The King and practically collapsed on her knees. She quickly kissed the Royal Ring, then licked her lips. She delicately wiped away the drool that was forming in the corner of her mouth. The Royal Cock jumped again, as if summoning her closer. Her tongue met the tip before her lips did, ramming itself into the hole. Her lips closed around the head and she made a sucking sound that was supposed to be a kiss. When she slowly pulled her mouth away a trail of pre-cum continued to connect them for a second or two. Both smiled at the antics of the Royal Cock. Suddenly remembering she was supposed to have a reason for being there, she hurriedly said, “I have a cousin in another Kingdom and they think she might be sick with consumption, would you please pray for her?”

“Your request has been granted”, said The King and pondered if she would get that flushed look off her face before she headed back to stand next to her husband. But, then he realized, he didn’t care one way or another.

Sir Tomas, a knight from the southeast quadrant of Kingdom, was next in line to give homage. Sir Tomas was not a frequent visitor to the palace as it’s a half day’s journey by horse. His salute was the opposite of the Duchess’. He kneeled and seem to linger at the Royal Ring. He seemed to hold his face to the Royal Ring as if it were a place of worship and he was saying a prayer. However, when it came to the Royal Cock he barely grazed the tip. If The King hadn’t been watching him, he wouldn’t have believed it happened. Sir Tomas quickly rose to his feet. “Your Majesty, I bring news from our neighboring Kingdom of Ausmus. The King is very ill and won’t live past the harvest. His daughter, Princess Corrine, will be assuming the thrown. As you know, Ausmus, is the last Kingdom in this region not to join our alliance. I have it on good authority, if you take her as your wife, not only will Ausmus join in the alliance, but The Kingdoms of Ott and Jaru as well. If you could persuade King Mantu to give his blessing of the union before his passing, you would have the full cooperation of all three Kingdoms and their subjects.”

The King leaned back on his throne in contemplation. The last time he saw Princess Corrine, she was thin and lanky shy child that hovered around her father like a gnat. That was about ten years ago, which would place her around twenty. He didn’t remember her as unattractive. He could only remember her as an irritation. “Is the Princess comely?”

“She is quite comely, sir. Together you would make beautiful heirs.”

The King was approaching his thirtieth year and he was beginning to feel pressure from his advisors that he needed to take a proper wife and sire proper heirs to The Kingdom. The King was not without children. He had thirty children by twenty-two different women. Unfortunately, none would inherit The Kingdom because they were all bastard children. But, because they were created with Royal blood they were not treated like common villagers. The mothers and children were housed in a complex near the palace. The children were all educated by some of the top Scholars in the Region. They all lived in this communal area, but they were not allowed to visit their home villages or take The King’s children there. They were no longer considered common and would not be acquainting The King’s Royal seed to any common practices. The women were also not allowed to bear any other man’s seed. Eunuchs watched over what could only be called a harem. The King would visit his children during their studies at least twice a week. They were always to be reminded that they come from Royal blood. The women he visited once a week while the children were in classes. He would spend several hours pleasing as many women as he could. Women who were menstruating were sectioned off behind heavy curtains. The King had no need for them.

The King decided it would be to his advantage to have a Queen and a Prince or two. He wasn’t getting any younger and the legends of his sexual exploits were a great topic of discussion throughout the Region. Of course, he didn’t have any plans to stop any of his exploits, but it would look better if he gave the appearance of propriety. “Announce to the court of The King of Ausmus that I will arrive on Friday of this week to pay homage to their King.”

“Thank you, your Majesty” as Sir Tomas bowed and found his place back to his side of the Royal Rug.

The Regent leaned toward The King and whispered that this was an excellent decision. Of course, the Vicar concurred.

Three Dukes, a Count, and two Lords bowed before The King. Each with some small tragedy or affliction that was affecting citizens of their villages or parishes. He grew more and more bored with each tale of woe. The only solace he found was from the continuous stroking of the Royal Cock. He had to get through this arduous task of looking concerned and referring them to varying members of the council for follow-up by reminding himself that the next order of business was the auditioning of the Palace dancers. He surmised that good entertainment for events and visiting dignitaries would put them in a more amicable mood, thus making swaying them to his way of thinking, effortless.

The Royal Dancer Auditions

Finally, homage was over and The King dismissed his guests. He allowed his Regent and General to stay for the auditions. The Vicar was asked to leave as well. He allowed the musicians to stay, but blindfolds would be worn throughout the entire ordeal. The blindfolds could not be removed for any reason. As always, Toillette stood in wait so inconspicuously, she seemed to blend into the drapes. Only the three most trusted guards could guard the inner chamber. The others had to guard from the outside. These provisions were made by the Regent. The King had no qualms about being seen in any form of decadence. He was proud of the Royal Cock and believed its accomplishments should be enjoyed by everyone. He conceded after realizing that others did not share his pride or his abilities and would be less likely to participate fully making the debauchery uncomfortable. The King wanted everyone to be free to enjoy themselves completely. Two young servers brought in decanters of brandy and sifters on small tables and swiftly left the room. Max announced that the dancers were ready to audition for the Royal Dance Troop. The Royal Cock jumped in anticipation. The dancers came in groups of eight, performed the choreographed routine, The King and his dignitaries would pick which, if any, they would like to see again. Dancers came from all over The Kingdoms for a chance to work for the “Well-Endowed King”, as he was known as throughout the region. The King was known to be very generous with his staff. Not only did they receive a handsome salary but top grade room and board as well. In fact, all of his subjects would do anything for The King because they knew they would be handsomely rewarded. The King never feared rebellion. The King needed twelve strong and beautiful dancers for his Royal Dance Troop. There were ten groups of eight waiting to audition. Each routine was exactly three minutes in length. Because looks were just as important as skill their bodies would need to be exposed for evaluation. The men were dressed only in loin clothes and the women attired was best described as a loin cloth two-piece. The only difference was a cloth tied down their breasts to avoid hindering movement. Their bodies had been covered with coconut oil to accent muscle definition.

The first group of eight stood before The King in formation. The blindfolded musicians were told to play and the dancers began to gyrate in unison. The General and Regent perked up with interest. The King preferred to take the advice of the Royal Cock. The General expressed interest in a petite brunette with exceptionally large breast. The Regent was impressed with a downy-haired boy with good muscle tone. The Royal Cock had no interest at all. The King dismissed the entire group. The next group proved to be a little more fruitful. All three agreed on a long-legged olive-skinned beauty they wanted to see more off. The third group was as uneventful as the first. The fourth group woke up the Royal Cock. A caramel colored girl, thick in all the right places, moved her body in a way that looked like sex. She had big light-brown eyes shaded by long black lashes and the fullest lips The King had ever seen. The Royal Cock began to throb in The King’s hand. There were also a couple of boys of interest that were also asked to stay. The fifth group wasn’t as exciting for the Royal Cock, but there were two or three dancers worth a second look. The sixth group was led by a golden male beauty with curly blonde hair and a loin cloth barely able to contain what was obviously a very heavy load. Even though he was dancing the exact same steps as the other dancers, they appeared to fade away behind his light. He wasn’t very tall, maybe five foot six, but he dominated the room. Maybe it was the way he kept licking his lips while looking The King brazenly in the eyes, like he was challenging The King to take him. The General and Regent focused on a red-haired waif of a girl they felt compelled to protect. The seventh troop was a mixed bag. There were two obviously strong female dancers that were quite pleasing to look at. Also a tall, muscular, copper skinned male dancer that looked more like a guard than a dancer and yet moved his body as if he had no bones. The other five were absolute disasters.

The King requested a break and called for Toillette. She appeared to glide to the throne. She had the Royal Cock in her mouth before she even kneeled to the floor. It had been standing straight up being stroked for so long, she was forced to come down on it from a standing position. The Regent and General enviously walked to the side of the room with the drape hidden chamber pots. Toillette held that dick in her mouth for a good five minutes before the swelling deflated enough for the hot flow of urine to pour down her throat. She didn’t mind one bit. Watching all those dancers was making her juices flow, literally. A small stream was gliding down her inner thigh and pooling in her shoe. She wore no undergarments so she could always be ready for The Kings every desire. Once she had drunk The King dry, she got the bonus of sucking the Royal Cock until it resumed its turgid state. This she would have happily done for free, but she was paid handsomely for her service. She saved almost all her money. She already had everything she could ever want. The Regent and General had resumed their seats and the Royal Cock was full in her mouth. She felt the familiar pat on her head. Her job was done. She retreated to the shadows.

Max announced the entrance of the eighth dance troop. That break must have done something because these dancers practically exploded with energy. Everyone was so strong you couldn’t possibly focus on one. All of them were asked to stay for a second look. The ninth group danced as if they had lost all confidence after seeing the strength of the last group. They were already defeated and of no use to The King. Hoping they were saving the best for last, the tenth troop did not disappoint. Two males and Two females were so fluid and beautiful that the General said he would be happy to watch them do anything, “including taking a shit”. In the end, twenty-four dancers were asked for a second look. Half of them would have to be eliminated.

Before the chosen dancers came back for their second look, The King made it clear that the ones that would be in the Royal Dance Troop were the; long-legged olive colored female from the second group, the thick caramel female from the fourth group, the golden blonde male from the sixth troop, the large copper tone male from the seventh group, and the four beautiful males and females in the last group. The Regent and General can pick the final four because the rest didn’t matter one way or the other. Realizing that The King had basically claimed those dancers for his self, decided on the red-haired waif from group six and one girl and two boys from group eight. Even though the Royal Dance Troop was already chosen they watched the two returning groups of twelve with feigned interest. After both groups completed their routine, the chosen ones were asked to stay and the others were sent home. They were, however asked to provide their information in case anyone on the chosen troop were unable to perform. The selected dancers were introduced to their choreographer, Master Efram, given a strict set of rules, and shown to their quarters. Everyone had been made aware that if chosen, they would be unable to return to their home village. They would be able to send gifts, money, and correspondences to their families via courier. It was a great honor to be chosen so neither the dancers nor their families had a problem with this arrangement. When The King chooses you, you pretty much belong to him. The dancers gathered their meager possessions and began to make themselves at home in their quarters. They knew to take advantage of every opportunity to rest, because there won’t be many. They are expected to wake at sunrise, dress, eat, and begin a vigorous routine of exercise until noon. They would eat a light meal and work on dance routines for another four straight hours. Supper, two hours to unwind and then lamps out. The only time the routine would be altered are the days they perform or at the personal request of The King or any of his Royal council. They were expected to perform this very evening after dinner service, so they would only have about 30 minutes to claim their bed and put away their possessions. Males and females shared the same barracks.

When the dancers were finally alone, they began to talk freely amongst themselves. Most had come from different villages, so they had no background information on each other. Ironically, the most discussed topic was The King and his Royal Cock. Everyone had heard stories about him, but few had seen him or it in person. They spent the at least fifteen minutes comparing the many rumors of his sexual escapades. They would have spent longer, but one of the guards came in and requested one of the dancers return to the throne room.

A Private Audition

Adam, the curly blonde golden boy was to be escorted before The King. The guard was black and massive and completely silent after asking Adam to follow him. Adam was terrified. Was he to be sent home already? Had he been mistakenly chosen? Maybe he was voted out after consideration. They hadn’t mentioned they would be summoned back before the throne individually. It was the longest walk of his life. He had a mother and four younger brothers depending on him. He couldn’t go back to the farm, he just couldn’t! He tried to ask questions of the guard, but his stoic expression never changed and his mouth never moved. By the time Adam stood at the entrance of the throne room, he was shaking and tears were beginning to well up in his eyes. The guard grabbed Adam and pulled him before The King himself.

“Thank you, Max” The guard nodded and resumed his position at the door. Originally Adam thought the room to be empty except for he and The King. But, he saw a slight movement in the corner of his eye and realized there was a small thin girl partially hidden by a curtain. If the rumors are true, she was his constant companion. She wasn’t much to look at and she seemed almost frail. No one knew for sure what her role was but there were rumors. She seemed an unlikely paramour for The King. She made not a sound. He was so intrigued by her, that he almost forgot to be terrified.

The King watched Adam with amusement. He watched him turn from terror to intrigue at the presence of Toillette. Toillette had an uncanny ability to relax someone without saying a word. He leaned back on his throne, still methodically stroking himself as if it was the most natural thing to do. “Would you like a Brandy?” Adam was a common farmer who had absolutely no idea what a brandy was. He said, “Yes”, only because he couldn’t imagine saying “No” to The King. The King reach over with one hand, while the other continued to make long stroking motions on the Royal Cock, and poured brown liquid from the most beautiful glass jug into an equally beautiful glass cup. His hands were shaking when he reached for the glass The King was holding out to him. He held the glass as tight as he could, fearful he would drop something so precious. He brought the glass cup to his lips and smelled the strong scent of alcohol unlike any he had ever smelled. Not, that he had a lot of experience with liquor. He once tasted a cup of fermented grapes. It had been sweet and warmed his stomach. Before he could taste it again, one of his brothers took it from him. The cup had to be shared amongst the family. This brown liquid was not very sweet. He could feel it burn as it went down his throat and hit his stomach. His first thought was that he had been poisoned. He blew a gust of air out of his mouth to both cool his throat and release what he believed to be smoke.

“I take it you haven’t had a lot of experience with brandy” The King said with a smile in his eyes.

“No, your Majesty.” Adam said humbly.

“Give it five minutes and then drink it again. You will find it to be much more pleasant.”

Adam couldn’t imagine it would ever be pleasant to drink this brown poison, but he couldn’t very well ignore The King. He was just happy to have five minutes without that taste in his mouth or the fire in his throat. He still didn’t know why he was here.

“I bet you are wondering why I called you here? I was quite impressed with you style of dance. Where did you learn to dance like that?”

Adam wondered if this was a test. Was he required to have had a teacher of dance to be on the Royal Dance Troup? “When I was a boy, my mother would let travelers stay on the farm for money or labor. One of the men played the horn. He would play it during the day, when we working in the fields. I would hear that music and it’s like the notes ran through my body. I just began to move where the notes told me to go. After that, I looked for music everywhere and I would just go where the notes took me. When I heard, you were looking for palace dancers, I knew I had to try. If for nothing else but to feel the notes. I didn’t know I would need to dance a specific way until yesterday. I just watched people practicing the routine while we waited to be called.”

“You learned that entire dance routine while waiting in line? How many times did your practice?”

“I wasn’t able to practice. I didn’t want people to believe I wasn’t supposed to be here.”

“So, you’re telling me the first time you actually performed the routine was in front of me? It’s time for you to take another sip.”

Adam put the glass to his lips, dreading the suffering that came with drinking this poison. Surprisingly, The King was right. The brandy didn’t burn nearly as much, but it was making him feel warm all over. He quickly took another swallow. He wished the band was still here. He had an incredible need to be filled with the notes.

“See, it’s not nearly as bad as you thought. Why do you lick your lips when you dance?”

Had he been licking his lips while dancing for The King? He didn’t mean to do that. He had an overwhelming desire to fill his mouth with that big beautiful Royal Cock. He was trying to avoid just staring at it by looking The King directly in the face. “Was I licking my lips? I wasn’t aware I was.” He silently prayed that The King would move away from this subject to something less embarrassing. He took a big gulp of the warm liquid. He began to feel both warm and light. It was like he was no longer standing on his legs. Why does The King insist on stroking that oversized cock? Does it hurt being so big? His brothers always teased him about the size of his penis, but compared to The King, he felt below average. The King had him by over two inches in length and girth. He took another big swallow and his glass was empty.

The King leaned in and said in a low voice, “I think you were licking your lips because you really want to taste this Royal Cock. You seem to be carrying a heavy weight yourself.”

Adam followed The King’s gaze to his crouch and realized he too had become quite hard. He was embarrassed The King had to see that. Adam wished he had more of the brown liquid. As if reading his mind, The King reach out and refilled his glass. It was the best thing he had ever tasted. He felt a little light-headed and wished he could just sit down.

The Royal Cock was so full he could fill the blood rushing in and out beneath his hand. The King stopped stroking it because he didn’t believe he could get any harder.

“Why don’t you remove your loin cloth so I can see how big you really are?”

It seemed like a perfectly reasonable request to Adam. Besides, the loin cloth was so confining it was becoming uncomfortable. It was easy to remove. His dick seemed to levitate in front of him. He began to stroke it just like The King had done. He took another drink. He now understood why The King did this, because it feels good. His mum always told him it was wrong to hold his penis unless he was peeing. He had an incredible urge to rub it up against the Royal Cock.

“Come closer. I want to feel the weight of that thing.”

“I would like to feel the weight of the Royal Cock.” He stated as he approached the throne. He didn’t realize he has said that out loud. When The King wrapped his large hand around his dick, he gasped for air. His eyes and his head both rolled back as he thrust his crouch closer to The King. Before he knew it, his second glass was empty now too. He didn’t know what to do with the empty glass. He knew he didn’t want to move from The King’s warm grasp. The King reached up and took the glass with his Royal Cock hand. To Adam, this seemed like a tragedy. The Royal Cock should be stroked always. Without a second thought, he wrapped both hands around the Royal Cock and began to massage it up and down. He hoped he was doing it right because he had never touch a man’s organ like this before. Not even his. But when The King let out a deep moan he felt quite proud of himself. What else could he do well? The King continued to stroke Adam and Adam continued to stroke The King. Adam noticed a clear gooey substance was slowly working its way out of the tip of the Royal Cock. He had an impulse to taste it. He learned over and licked it off the tip. There wasn’t enough of it. He wanted more. He placed the head in his mouth and began sucking, hoping to taste more of the goo. As The King continues to stroke Adams dick, he sees the same gooey substance on the tip of his dick. He was shocked when The King leaned over and licked his dick clean. A jolt of lightning seemed to go through Adams body. His muscles tensed and he was force to cry out as if he had been struck. The King continued to suck Adams dick, taking more and more of it in each time. Adam had never in his life felt this good. He would have happily died for his King for giving him this pleasure alone. Without warning his legs locked and his back arched. He called out to God, for surely he must be dying. Then he felt a rush of more goo, way more goo, shoot out of the head of his dick and into The Kings mouth. He secretly pledged his life to his King for all eternity. Only a man as powerful as The King could make him feel this way, and he had chosen him. The goo weakened him somehow. Suddenly he just wanted to lay down. The King continued to suck until Adams dick was as floppy as a noodle.

“Did that cum feel good?” The King asked

Cum? Is that what that was? When could he do it again? “It felt like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. Can I make that “cum” come out of the Royal Cock as well?”

“I would love that, but it must be another time. I have so much more to do today. Besides, you must be tired. You have a very busy day ahead of you. Max will show you back to your quarters. Remember, it is treason to discuss any of our private exchanges with an outside source.

“You have my solemn vow that I will not reveal any part of our private affairs. I eagerly look forward to our next private encounter.” Adam bowed so low his face was only inches from the floor.

The King rang a bell and the guard called Max came forward and collected Adam, who barely had time to reattach his loin cloth before returning to the dancer’s quarters. As soon as he walked through the door he was assaulted by a barrage of questions. All of which he refused to answer. He managed to say “Long live The King!” before he fell into a deep peaceful slumber.

The King leaned back on his throne, phallus still engorged, and smiled. He had made a good decision with that one. He had many ideas that he planned to execute at a future time. There was no hurry. He was his now. They all were. Plus, it was becoming late in the day and he still needed to conduct his daily exercise and training. He felt like sword play today. However, nothing could be accomplished with this raging hard-on he was holding. “Toillette”, he called. “Finish me.”

From the shadows behind the curtains, Toillette had been watching. She watched with envy as that yellow – haired boy tasted the promise of The King’s glorious essence. Her tongue had darted out as if it were she that was tasting his pre-cum. She could practically taste the cream of the Royal Cock rising to the top. With great anticipation, she waited and watched to see if this boy would drink the precious milk of her King. When he was dismissed her heart began to flutter, for she knew The King would bless her with his essence. After all, it was late and he still needed to complete his hour of daily training before dinner. At the mention of her name, she almost tripped in her dash to The King’s throne. No more words needed to be spoken by The King. She placed the pillow she carried on the floor and kneeled between The King’s open thighs. The King leaned his head back and closed his eyes glad to finally be released from his heavy burden. Toillette wanted to make it last if possible, but she knew The King just wanted a quick release. Still, she savored every inch of him. Winding her tongue around first the shaft and the tip while continuing to keep her lips firmly locked around the Royal member. She could feel his blood pumping like a heartbeat. Following the same rhythmic beat, she wraps her hands tightly around the base and began twisting and pulling upward while softly sucking and swallowing the Royal Cock. Her head bobbed on her long muscular neck. Her movements were orchestrated like a well-rehearsed symphony. She felt the muscles in his leg constrict, meaning it wouldn’t be long before his orgasm. Selfishly, she ran her tongue firmly across the tip and released pressure from both her hands and her lips to slow his orgasm and give herself more time. The King would not be fooled by her trickery; he knew what she was trying to do but he didn’t have time left to spare. Firmly, her grabbed her head and pushed it down until she gagged. Understanding her selfishness did not go unnoticed, Toillette resumed her original rhythm. Left to delight in the density of his pre-cum, she sucked, but did not swallow. Suddenly, The King arched his back and let out a guttural moan. He then leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Toillette’s head, holding her in place as he filled her mouth to bursting with his long-awaited release. When he was completely satiated he leaned back and patted her head, signally her to back away. Toillette sealed her lips, arose, grabbed her pillow and retreated to the curtains. She held his Royal essence in her mouth, rolling it around her tongue and through her teeth. Languishing every drop as long she could. She would hold on to it for the better part of an hour, swallowing small drops at a time. If The King didn’t have to urinate, it was her playtime. The King left for his fitness training and Toillette followed stealthily behind. Always ready to respond to The King’s every desire. Which each step she sucked and squirted his thickened sperm through her teeth.

Training

Antonio, The King’s trainer, had been patiently awaiting his arrival for two hours now. This is not uncommon. The King worked on his own schedule and everyone else moved things to accommodate him. He continued to stretch and strengthen until one of the houseboys ran in and whispered, “The King is coming!” Antonio quickly jumped to a small ledge above the entranceway.

The King felt refreshed after his recent release. He needed to do something nice for Toillette. Life would be much more inconvenient without her. Max marched about six feet in front of him constantly scanning the perimeter. For what, The King couldn’t imagine. No one would want to harm him. No one, of course but Antonio. Antonio was always trying to attack him in some way. It was his job, but still he took great pleasure in trying to best The King. As if he ever could. There was a room in the palace designated for training in all types of combat. It was large and filled with various obstacles and obstructions for hiding. One of the shorter walls contained weapons of every sort. The other small wall held a giant reflecting mirror. The two longer walls contained ledges and various other protrusions on one side and caverns and hollows on the other. For one full hour The King would be under attack. The King preferred to train as if fighting a real enemy. Aggressively and without warning Antonio will attempt to assault The King with a variety of fighting styles using an assortment of weaponry. The point is not to hurt The King, but to expose any vulnerability he might have. The King believed in constant improvement. He also believed in wearing protection for the Royal Cock. Before entering the Royal Training room, he donned undergarments with a metal cup to secure the Royal Cock from harm.

When they arrived at the entrance to the training room, Max abruptly stopped and faced the opposite direction. Max was never to enter the training room while The King was training. The King learned his lesson when Max almost killed Antonio when he mistakenly thought Antonio was going to plunge his sword into The King’s throat. He barreled into him with such force that he was lifted out of his shoes and cracked several ribs. He was just about to bash in his head when The King stopped him. The King had to use guards for practice until Antonio was healing for two months. Max was far too overprotective of The King to witness him being attacked and not respond to it.

The King cautiously entered the threshold. He closed his eyes to heighten his other senses. He smelled him before he heard him. Just above him. The King felt the air shift as Antonio leapt from the ledge above. In one swift movement, he grabbed a nearby bamboo staff and struck his airborne legs, forcing Antonio to land on his back. The King leaned his hand over and helped him off the ground. Training had begun. An hour later, dripping with sweat and covered in mud and dust. The King patted Antonio on the back for a fine session. He walked out and Max began exaggerated surveillance all the way to the Royal Bath. It was almost time for dinner and they would be premiering The King’s new Royal Dance Troop. Although, The King was in no real hurry. Nothing could begin until his arrival.

The King’s beautiful bathers were already waiting for him. Already naked themselves, they hurriedly removed the clothes of their King. They guided him into the warm now vanilla scented water and began to lather his body with soap. At one point The King floated peacefully on his back while his bathers washed his long wavy hair, feet, and nether regions all simultaneously. After The King was so clean his skin squeaked when rubbed, he was escorted out of the bath and dried with thick cotton towels. He was then laid, face down on a cushioned table while his bathers covered his body with scented oil. He always required a full-body massage after each work out session. All three bathers would massage The King separated by individual sections. Every inch from his head to the bottom of his feet was kneaded until the muscles felt soft and relaxed. When they finished with his back side, he rolled over and the process began all over again. With one exception. The Royal Cock had to be manipulated until it stood straight at attention. When The King had an adventurous morning and afternoon, this would require more than massage. Each bather would take turns sucking and then riding the Royal Cock until it was ready for presentation. But, since The King had only had one measly orgasm today, nothing more than massage was necessary. Much to the disappointment of his bathers. This would be the last opportunity of the day to delight in the glory of The King. The rest of the evening would be mundane and filled with anticipation for tomorrow’s morning ritual. The King, feeling completely relaxed and energized at the same time, rose and allowed Max to dress him in a velvet and silk tunic suited for proper dinner attire. The King still refused to wear neither loin cloth or undergarments. The Royal Cock would lead him into dinner just the same as with breakfast. Besides, he found undergarments far to restricting. The Royal Cock needed to be free and unencumbered in case of any sexual opportunity.