The Warlord's Concubine (7 page)

He watched with rapt attention, his eyes lidded as the former
handmaiden worked her ways upon the pretty young woman. Her choice
seemed to please him, despite the nervous Aristean’s diminutive
size, so similar to that of the princess with her dainty figure.

Where she stoked the fires of the reluctant woman, he pulled off
one boot, then the other, slowly removing what little clothes he had
left on.

Her actions were so slow and calculating as the woman shivered
beneath her touch, and Mirella gently guided her face with her finger
so that they stared at one another.

“Tell me, my sweet. What is your name?” Mirella
breathed.

“R-Rachel,” she managed back, her stutter pronounced
as Mirella smiled brightly.

“That’s a beautiful name for an absolutely beautiful
woman,” she said before her lips grazed the other woman’s,
the action so slight and delicate it seemed completely contrary to
the hard, desperate desire she’d shown for her god. “I’m
going to kiss you,” she punctuated the word with another peck
to that peach skin, “and he’s going to watch, and it will
all be okay. Have you a lover, Rachel?”

“N-no!” she gasped squirming away, but Mirella stopped
her with a firm hand to her slender thigh.

“Just relax,” she cooed, her green eyes working
lustily over the woman’s body. Already her own arousal was
growing, despite her usual disinterest in women. She didn’t get
along well with them; they all reminded her too much of the Princess.
Full of themselves and with such an ego. They were all so much better
than the lowly handmaiden, but here she had the upper hand.

Even as she teased and toyed with the pretty young woman, she
could hear the familiar groan of leather as her new and only King
shed his pants; the peel of that dark material from his thick muscles
as he freed himself of all his clothing. He stood there in pure male
glory with his thick cock so prominent and large.

Rachel trembled; she wore very little, though it was obvious from
her nervousness that it wasn’t by her own choice. The slinky
outfit consisted of but three triangles of transparent white cloth
over her two breasts and slit, and did nothing to hide the colour of
her sex beneath. The cloth was rimmed in silver that came to chains
which bound it together about her waist, ass and back. It seemed to
be a style that pleased the God-King, for it was given in abundance
in many different styles to the concubines.

She had rejected it for that reason. She had no interest in
dressing like the others, and as her skirt fell way to show her
pantiless behind, her sex visible as she bowed before the other
woman, she could only hope he enjoyed it even better. As her hands
trailed down Rachel’s body, the thumbs grazed the lines of her
panties, warming her to her touch so gently.

“This will feel good,” she promised. She had become an
expert at strumming her own body to new heights after being with so
many inept men in the past. She only hoped that this woman would be
responsive as her head dipped, her nose running along her slit as she
inhaled deeply.

Rachel cried out in alarm and tried to shift back once more, but
those hands on her thighs tightened. “Would you hold her still,
Your Greatness?” she asked, the hot breath flooding over the
woman’s sex.

There was a gasp and a murmur from the entrance to the tent, and
she knew then that the guard-concubines found her presumption at
asking their deity for help an affront. Despite that however, the
powerful man was there, upon one knee as he pinned Rachel down with
immense ease. She could barely squirm beneath his strong grasp as
those charcoal hands pinned her shoulders and arms.

The smell of that giant man, his musk of arousal so near, was
intoxicating, and she thought she could even detect a shiver of lust
pass through the blonde woman as well.

She nuzzled that woman’s sex, trying to ignore the object of
her interests so near to her, and her eyes focused instead on that
young woman. She was probably over a decade younger than herself,
just around the marrying age, and even though Mirella hated her for
her youth, she loved the scent of her clean pussy.

Slowly she peeled away the transparent fabric, and that first
touch of hot tongue against her hotter sex was sublime. The taste was
beyond compare, and Mirella moaned quite genuinely into the woman’s
cunny.

The shuddering mewl that came from the young woman betrayed her
enjoyment. Despite being pinned beneath the grasp of the obsidian
warlord, and having cunnilingus forced upon her, she quaked and
quivered.

Before long the woman's moans grew pleasured and her body lost its
tenseness, enough so that her lord took one hand off Rachel and
brought it to her own black hair, stroking along it in tender
approval.

She didn’t want to stop. She didn’t want to do
anything but bring this woman to the pleasured brink, and even as her
jaw ached and her mouth began to go numb, her tongue whipped across
her clit with more enthusiasm. Her own breathing was coming on hard
and fast, especially under the touch of her god, and his being there
made it all the better.

Sharing the woman with him, bringing her to such heights as she
was pinned between his hard cock and her beautiful mouth was just
exquisite. She had never anticipated that she would enjoy something
so tawdry as this, but she knew then that she would gladly do this
and far more for just the smallest amount of approval from him.

It was almost disappointing to feel him nudge her out of the way,
ending her delving into that young, pink pussy. But when she saw the
swell of that unearthly cock, its veins so prominent and dark, and
the look of longing lust on his face that would brook no further
delay, she saw it for what it was. It was reward for having done her
duty so very well.

With one dark hand on the pale woman’s shoulder, he pinned
her to the cushions as he slid over top of her. That heavy shaft of
his bobbed upwards, and he hesitated for just a moment. Enough to let
her realize her duty and so she reached in, lifting its large heft
and guiding him in towards that damp flower. She let it kiss his dark
crown so lovingly before he began to push down into that virginal
slit.

Mirella licked around her mouth and still tasted the other woman’s
sex so strong on her lips. She wanted to see, and even that jealousy
could do little to hinder her enjoyment of this. Instead, she wormed
her way up along Rachel’s side and watched the fear and desire
mark her face.

“It will hurt, but it will be delightful,” she
promised. Her hand worked down between the two, pressing roughly
against that aching, pulsing nub between her nether lips. She worked
it expertly and caused the younger woman to gasp and moan, her legs
parting wider for that unearthly cock.

With a depth of approval she had not expected, her king leaned in
and kissed at her lips, pushing his tongue into Mirella’s
mouth. The embrace of mouths went on long until his shredding of
Rachel’s innocence on the head of his cock brought the young
woman to a shriek, and he broke it to look at the pale young woman,
not ceasing his dive as he plumbed the depths of that virginally
tight quim, bottoming out within her and immediately beginning to
pump pitilessly.

She was breathless, and the shared taste of the woman between them
was something so primal to her. Fingers working faster between those
saliva and honey soaked lips; she moved to silence Rachel’s
cries, but only for a second. She just wanted enough to share that
sensation with her as well before moving onto her neck, sucking her
tender, peach flesh almost brutally as her god fucked the other woman
ruthlessly.

The slap of his dark sac against Rachel’s pale ass grew, his
husky grunts and groans creating a stir in the air as he pumped
himself faster, harder. As Mirella worked the young woman to a frenzy
she saw the throbs in his thick cock widen that torn slit, the labia
stretched in a completely vulgar display.

With the tightness of that quim and his ruthless pace, it wasn’t
long before she saw as her lord and master worked himself to his
release. With his handsome face contorted, brows knitted, he groaned
loudly as he buried himself into the young woman and emptied his
loins of all their virile cum, utterly filling that poor girl with
his seed.

Jealousy once more edged into her mind, and she became so aware of
that painful throbbing between her own legs. She’d never wanted
someone so bad, to ever devote herself to one person’s pleasure
so selflessly that she’d deny herself, but she knew it was
good. It was what he wanted, and even though she hated the idea of
Rachel or the other concubines spawning his child, her hand worked
its way up to the woman’s stomach, rubbing it gently.

“You are so lucky,” she breathed out with such
wanting.

Rising up from Rachel’s pale, quivering form, he slid out of
her reddened slit then grabbed for Mirella. The action was so fast,
so abrupt, he seemed angry. Those strong arms took hold of her, and
he pushed her away from the young woman, moving with her so that she
and her God-King rolled down a pile of cushions together.

When they came to a halt he had his arms about her, their bodies
pressed and he was forcing such a passionate kiss onto her. What had
seemed like violent rage at first became clear to them all as some
depraved act of lust or affection. With his slick, stiff cock jammed
against Mirella, he ground against her and kissed her so deep, so
passionately.

She was at a loss and that haze of lust overwhelmed her. Arms
flung around his neck, she met each one of the presses of his hips
with her own. She was so wet that she felt it down her inner thighs,
unhampered by panties, and the skirt had easily fallen away,
revealing her lower half to the room full of half-naked women. She
didn’t care about them, though, nor the tiny mewls of pain from
Rachel at her side.

Instead it was just him, just her, grinding and kissing in the
quickly warming tent.

When he finally broke their kiss, it was to arch his spine and
raise his shoulders, gliding that thick, meaty shaft down along her
slit until he was positioned to nudge it into her. He was insatiable,
like no other man she’d been with nor heard tale of, and he had
his cock within her and was thrusting and pumping like some mad
animal in heat.

It was more than the intensity of it, the passion of it. The way
he was positioned over her so, it was dominance. It was
possessiveness. He was claiming her, marking her as his in front of
all the other women. This wasn’t about breeding, this was about
much more, she could tell that as she glimpsed across his glossy
chest and watched him pound her long and hard into the rich cushions
below.

The tiny, peppered moans were silenced against his lips, again and
again as she sought to press as much of her flesh to his. Relief and
need mingled within her body as she licked and bit at his neck and
chest, gasping and panting as her legs spread wider, his hard,
charcoal coloured cock splitting her pretty little lips open again
and again.

The sight was so crude, but for them, it was perfection.

When she felt that familiar swell within him, his pounding having
brought her over the edge and into screaming pleasure, he reached
out, grabbing another woman by the ankle and yanking her strongly
towards them.

She couldn’t tell if the other woman resisted, though being
one of the new ones she found it hard to imagine she wouldn’t.
And instead of the pleasing rush of her king’s release inside
her, she felt him pull out. Immediately he tanked another brunette to
him, impaling her on his cock with a brutal thrust. He paid no heed
to her lack of readiness as he jack hammered his final moments out to
a roaring climax.

She gasped and instinctively rolled towards him, her body
following after his even as he denied her that finale. Her body
shuddered and shook with the aftershocks, but still she wanted more,
even though she felt so sore. So very sore. It didn’t matter
though. Not even the fact that he hadn’t given her what she
wanted mattered.

All that mattered was that he got what he wanted.

With a snap of his fingers he kissed Mirella hard, panting and
breathing heavily as he yanked his cock from another seeded cunt,
pointing to a new woman. “That one,” he instructed, his
hard pecs rising and falling so dramatically with his heavy
breathing, making him look like a living statue carved from obsidian.

The princess was being stubborn. So very stubborn. Well over a
month of insistent sulking and refusing to meet with her trusted
servant. Not that it displeased Mirella on a personal level. Being
away from her meant she was almost like a queen of the concubines. It
was her that the God-King trusted to select his women for
fertilization. It was her he showed obvious favouritism towards.

Most importantly, she hadn’t had a period since he’d
first taken her, and the aching swell of her breasts both suggested
she was quickened by his seed.

The only damper on it at all was the knowledge that her lord had
grander plans that relied on the Princess’s cooperation. And
that was still not forthcoming.

When the summons came to her, the guard-concubines brought her
through the palace, but to an unusual place. It was a back viewing
hall, rarely used by the old king. It had a series of wide windows
that viewed out through the gap in the mountain pass to the green
fields south of the mountains. There she found the throne, torn from
the very marble floor of the throne room and placed overlooking the
plains south.

In his usual garb, sat the God-King himself, in some deep
contemplation.

“Your Greatness?” she asked curiously as she made her
way in. Already she’d disposed of her clothing and was so
gloriously, triumphantly nude as she moved to his side. Her gaze was
unable to move from his for a long few heartbeats before she finally
followed his stare outside.