Love Charms (83 page)

Chapter 6

The
next day, Mirella was informed the princess refused to see her by one of the
guard-concubines who was beginning to show sign of pregnancy, her tummy having
swollen just slightly. It was a crushing thing, so much depended on pleasing
her new King, and the Princess’s tantrum could go on and on, as she very well
knew.

Worse
yet, he hadn’t sent for her that night. The women of the concubine’s tent were
antsy; they seemed to sense something was going on as the guard informed the
servant. “His majesty is on his way here, I’m told. Be ready,” it was more of a
general remark, to all the women, however, rather than being reserved simply
for her.

She was
always ready. Though her rage still bubbled, she knew this could be a good
thing. To have the Princess isolated, for him to be her only point of contact
could work favourably, and she was filled with confidence in her new plan, or
so she had thought until the announcement came. She didn’t expect him to pick
her, not really. The punishment was grave, but so was her disappointment, yet
still she stood ready.

She had
become far more comfortable with her body and had taken on a general state of
semi-undress. There were skimpy outfits, free for the taking, and though she
had worn her robe earlier when refused by the Princess, here in the concubine
tent, she had no such shame. Most of her body was visible, the top barely
holding her ample breasts, and the skirt hardly hiding anything as it went on
an angle down her thigh. She pulled her long, black hair off her chest to leave
it looking more vulnerable to his eyes and held her breath.

The
women who persisted now were more of the type who feared and gave in to him,
mixed with fewer of the new ones. They still cowered and looked bewildered by
it all, their pale Aristean features contorted in alarm.

When he
entered all of them looked away however. All but her. For that she was rewarded
by a twinkle of interest in his gaze as he saw her, dressed not in her
servant’s robes, but as a true concubine and pleasure slave. The light material
of her outfit barely covered her at all.

The
worry of the night melted away as he came to her out of them all. “You look
much better like this,” he remarked in his heavy tone, the compliment so sweet
coming from the ruler of everything from the Aristean Mountains on northwards.
His hand reaching out and helping itself to touch her stomach, squeeze a
breast, all openly and without reservation.

She had
the same lack of concern as him. They were nothing to her, less than nothing.
Not even her equals. They were nothing but walking wombs to her, and she nearly
lost her breath as she moved in against him so readily. She only hesitated for
a moment, wondering who among the traitors to the god might tell his Princess.
Mirella leaned up, whispering her concerns only to him, “None who see us should
be allowed to speak with the little one.”

Her
caution made him smile, and it was such a sight to see. It wasn’t the fake
little thing he gave for the princess not long ago, this was genuine. And it
was for her.

Leaning
down he murmured to her in his husky voice, “Too right.” It was nothing, just
two words, but something about how the dark God-King bent and said them to her
and her alone amidst a sea of stunning women made her feel so special and
unique.

With
his free hand he undid his cloak and let it fall to the floor, his gaze
sweeping about the room, taking in all the other women. “Since the princess is
gone,” all measure of quiet conspiracy gone from his voice, “it is due time I
took a moment to visit with my harem.”

Topless
and stunning, the large man strode over the cushions, his hand leaving
Mirella’s breast but moving to her shoulder, guiding her along with him so that
she was at his side. It was his guard-concubine, the pregnant one again, that
spoke up. “It is a privilege and honour to bear the God-King’s children. His
seed must spread far and wide,” she intoned it as if it were some litany of
prayer.

Mirella’s
breathing quickened, and he could see dark delight begin to spread on her face
as she moved with him. She didn’t care much for the sterile manner the woman
praised her god, but it was a far sight better than the cowering, weak willed
and useless women of the city, so her smile broadened. “Too right you are,” she
said with awe and respect. “I can only hope I will prove as useful to him,” she
moved her hands down over his body brazenly, and her voice rose, “We are being
offered something so few ever receive. It’s no time for fright or uselessness.
Instead, take time to pay your respects to one so far superior to us all!”

A
rousing speech, for her first time, she thought as her hands worked down over
his abs and thighs.

Her
obedient praising, her fawning touches, it seemed to earn her a low, growling
groan of approval from the giant man, dressed only in his black leather
breeches and boots. Stopping near the center of the chamber, his powerful arm
around Mirella, he studied the new women a moment before looking to the pregnant
guard-concubine. “You’ve done well. However I think for this time I shall let
the privilege fall to the new one,” and his hand slid down Mirella’s back to
squeeze one of her sumptuous ass cheeks, indicating his favour.

The
guard-concubine retreated, not daring to show any annoyance at being passed
over as she slid away to the entrance. Mirella was now the favoured one, and
the God-King looked down to her, “Pick the first one. It’s your duty to help
spread my seed to the far corners this day, Mirella.” He blessed her with that
familiar use of her name, his groping hand still palming her ass cheek.

Her
smile was mostly hidden beneath her pensive gaze as she sought for someone
pleasing. They all looked so pitiful and cowering and frightened to her, none
of them filled with the admiration and respect they should have, not even after
her rousing speech. Her eyes fell to the one that wished the greatest not to be
seen, however.

A small
woman, she was young and ripe, with her nearly white hair and her peach coloured
flesh. Mirella almost felt as if she wanted to taste her then and there, and
her lips touched to her god’s lips as she whispered to him, “Do you prefer them
ready for you, Your Greatness?”

Helping
her stand up to whisper to him by pushing up on her round backside, he murmured
back to her with a slightly wry smile. “If they aren’t ready, then it falls to
you to either make them ready, or slicken me with mouth or quim to compensate,
pet.”

He
uttered those words so darkly, but the twinkle in his eyes showed great
amusement at her question, her eagerness to please. With a hard squeeze and a
slap of her olive toned ass he said, “I trust you shall choose right.”

She
wanted to do both, and for a moment she seemed so torn before she slipped away
from him, reluctantly, and walked to the other woman. She was sat upon some of
the pillows and startled as Mirella arrived, but that kind, genuine smile on
the olive skinned woman’s face was so reassuring. The peach skinned beauty had
trouble speaking but stammered out, “Don’t let him hurt me.”

Mirella
nodded, her hand presumptively going to the other woman’s arm, “He won’t. He
just wants to watch us enjoy each other,” she lied so easily. It didn’t even
matter that he’d just been speaking about concubines and that she’d given an
impassioned plea for everyone to let him fuck them. Now it was all sugar, and
her hand ran down the slender woman’s body, “You’re very pretty. So slim and
perky,” she said, and the way she was knelt before her, the skirt fell away to
the side, exposing her large rear to the god behind her.

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.