Ing to Slave

He had ruled as king for five years. He was a just man and acknowledged by all of his subjects as a good and fair ruler. Married one year ago, he wed out of love rather than for the customary family ties. Devoted to his new Queen, the king was smitten by her long, sexy legs, blond hair and overall beauty and charm. They met at a royal party and within minutes, the king had become instantly entranced with her quick wit, smooth grace and overall loveliness. Well within the evening, he wanted her and after a quick and intense courtship he succeeded in his dream.

It didn't take long for him to discover she was everything he had imagined and more. Erotic and sensual nights became the norm and she led him to greater pleasures than he had ever experienced. With the talent of a courtesan she taught him the tantalizing build-up of slow seduction and the art of pleasing a woman. The king was used to simple, normal intercourse and was unaccustomed to such pleasures. No longer were the nights fast and brutal, throwing the woman on the bed and thrusting like a bull. With her, he learned how to tease a woman, bring her along slowly. For the first time he learned how to effectively use his mouth and tongue on her breasts.

And finally, ultimately, she taught him how to fulfill a woman's desire with his tongue between her legs. The king showed he was an eager and efficient student, following her explicit instructions to the letter.

From the very first time they were together she led the way. Soon, it was a basic part of the ritual for his head to be buried between her legs as a prelude to every sexual act. Accustomed to his own way, nonetheless he began to look forward to the ritual. Pleasing her with his mouth and tongue became second nature to him and he enjoyed the devotion as much as she did. Hours were spent worshipping her exquisite body as he lavished her skin with soft kisses and oral adoration. The delicious pleasure of pleasuring her was consuming him.

Every taste, every caress became an aphrodisiac to his senses. The king spent countless hours devouring her exquisite lusciousness with his mouth. Soon, his needs—the actual eruption—became secondary to the act of pleasing her.

Often as he entered the bedchambers after a day of regal decisions, he would find her attired in sheer robes that seemed to accent her nudity rather than show it. Immediately he would forget all kingly appearances as he lusted after her, his eager mouth salivating in raw desire. As he desired nothing more than to please her, she would subtly tease him, the robe revealing glimpses of bare skin as she walked around.

After a chase, with promises of more jewelry, he attained his goal and his head would be between her legs, mouth on her groin, and her long, slinky, sexy legs wrapped over his shoulders. In this servile position he found himself becoming increasingly harder and harder. It took all of his self control not to explode against the bed as she climaxed in his mouth.

As a favor to him, sometimes she would grant him extra kisses to her blessed womanhood after she had finished cumming. At these times, she allowed the king to savor her sweet juices as he softly lapped. It was times like this when it became increasingly more difficult not to climax as he rubbed against the bed, getting closer and closer to his own orgasm.

The king didn't realize it but the more time he spent pleasing the Queen with his mouth, the less often she let him enter her. Satisfied by his oral ravishments, she would often roll over and go to sleep. The king would continue his soft caresses and lust after her with all of his heart and soul. He ruled the kingdom but it was becoming apparent she reigned within the bedchambers.

Because of the Queens one-sided lovemaking, the king was in a constant state of arousal. He wanted her all the time but was experiencing less and less actual sexual consummations. In a manner he had never felt before, the longing for her only fueled his obsession. She soon made it clear her body was available but only on her terms. Needing her beyond all decency, the king accepted her every rule. It seemed the less she gave him, the more he was aroused.

During the day, the king made many decisions concerning the fate of his people. In fact, his decisions affected the course of nations. But at night, in the bedroom, he didn't rule—he sought only to fulfill her desires, no matter how demeaning they became.

When first married he didn't expect the relationship to turn out the way it did but, once started, he was unable to stop the slow descent. Most every night, the king stalked to the bedchambers intending to fulfill his lust for sexual intercourse. Invariably his noble intentions ended differently.

After a particularly grueling and frustrating day, the king vowed he would conquer the Queen and consummate the evening with a bout of raw, unbridled sex. His turgid member reminded him throughout the day of his carnal need.

As he entered their bedroom he spotted her sitting—almost posing—before a mirror, applying some rouge to her beautiful face. A lovely gown parted at the bottom, revealing her long, sensual legs. The robe was open a bit at the top, barely concealing her delectable breasts. Just the sight of her overwhelming beauty and sensuality was enough for the king to forget his vow. From deep within, he longed to caress her beautiful body with kisses. Turning seductively towards him, the gown falling from her legs, the Queen teased him with the revealing vision. His knees weakened, as he wanted nothing more than to run his lips up those lanky legs to the very site of her womanhood.

"How did it go today?" she asked as she calmly brushed her long blond hair. His mouth dried suddenly. His usual fluent tongue was at a loss for words.

"Fine..." he stammered. She turned slowly towards him, knowing how her body excited him. Only a very small part of the robe covered her now. Crossing one leg over the other, she knew how to control him. Slowly and casually rotating one leg, in a hypnotic manner, she ensnared him with the sensual exposure.

"My king, I need a new wardrobe. I hardly have anything to wear," she stated. For a moment, he seemed to recall talking to her about the burden her needs taxed on his treasuries, then as she drew one leg up onto the chair, grasping it with her hands, accenting the area he craved, his mind had no room for anything but tasting her beloved queenly sex.

"Of course. Take out what you need," he muttered as he lowered himself to his knees in front of her. His beseeching arms sought her legs, as his worshipful lips caressed the inside of her smooth thigh. As a king, he had never before knelt to anyone yet here he was, kneeling before this goddess—his sole thought only to please her. Above him, hidden by his bowed head, she smiled with the knowledge of his surrender.

Keeping her legs pressed tightly, denying him from traveling upward, she asked. "What is it that you want, sire?" There was a hint of patronizing in her tone.

"Please," he whispered. "Please, may I kiss you?" His harsh and pleading voice had nothing of a kingly nature.

"Kiss me? That's all you desire? Your Queen is almost naked before you and all you want to do is kiss me?"

"Please." The sound was raspy. "Please, let me kiss you. There, where you like it so much," he pleaded, the need almost too great.

"Sire, you are a King yet you kneel to me, your Queen. Aren't I supposed to be on my knees before you?"

Instead of righteous indignation, the once proud king allowed the wave of submission to flow over him.

"Please. Let me kiss you." His lips sought his reward yet were thwarted by her strong thighs.

"Kiss me? Nothing more? Shouldn't a king be demanding what he wants? Not on his knees begging like a lowly slave." She lifted his head with her hand grabbing hold of his hair. She gazed deeply into his eyes. "Are you sure that's all you desire?"

"Please. I want to please you. I want only to kiss you in the special way you like." She tousled his hair the way an adult would a little boy and walked to the bed. He remained on his knees watching and waiting.

"Come, sire. Come to your Queen," she commanded as she leaned back on the bed, her legs spreading seductively. He rose to follow. "No," she halted him in his tracks with her demand. He stopped suddenly, frozen by her directive. "If your want is so great then you must prove it. You must crawl to your Queen; show her that you are willing to submit."

A sudden shot of anger rose in the king's throat, the audacity of her ultimatum igniting what little bit of pride he had left. Any of his subjects would be summarily imprisoned for speaking to him in such a way. Struggling with the burden of his office his mind deliberated on her words. Knowing he should stand, conquer the disloyal woman, his eyes returned to the blessed junction between her legs.

All notions of imperial command disappeared as he observed the display before him. The Queen slowly lifted the gown away from her body, exposing the treasure of her breasts and further showing her beloved shrine.

The sight of her prize was too much and without a thought of the implications of his behavior he began crawling toward his goal. Never had he done anything like this before but the heavenly reward was too great. His lips and tongue sought the haven as he barely heard her comment.

"That's a good slave. You'll learn. You'll learn."

The next day the king could hardly focus. With half an ear, he listened to various court proceedings. His mind wandered from the dull session as he tried to cope with contradictory emotions. Frustration and embarrassment filled one side of the argument as he acknowledged that as a king, a man, and a husband he should demand from his Queen rightful privileges. He recalled the nights where she assumed a position beneath him, willingly accepting his thrusts as he entered and conquered her sweet womanhood.

Excitement fueled by humiliation presented the other side. He remembered the prior night so well as he brought her to three delicious climaxes with his talented tongue as he knelt on the floor between her legs. One again, his seed remained trapped inside as his needs were neglected.

Of one thing he was certain. His love was so great that he needed her. He needed her approval and he needed her acceptance. The fact that when he envisioned her great beauty he felt like a lowly serf before her was secondary to his great need. A part of him wanted to surrender everything just to taste the loveliness of her delicious pussy.

After a long and tiring day, judging cases, he was once again filled with kingly desires. With firm resolve, he determined to approach the Queen and demand sexual relief and fulfillment. He swore he would act like the ruler he was and consummate his rights as her liege and as a man.

Striding with the majesty he was known for, he entered their chambers just as the Queen emerged from the bath. Not realizing he was there, the beautiful woman stood slightly bent over, naked, drying her hair. The exhibition was incredible, even more was the vision of her gorgeous buttocks staring him in the face.

His resolve disappearing by the second, the king stood by the door totally mesmerized by the sight, all previous thoughts forgotten.

He watched intently as she shook her hair dry. His knees felt weak. He felt lost. Her beautiful derriere swayed back and forth as she toweled her long hair dry. Finishing the task she finally noticed him. With one glance she recognized where his eyes were focused. She remained motionless for long moments while his eyes stayed riveted on her glorious fanny. Provocatively, the Queen bent further, very slowly, while observing the effect her exposed backside had on him. Ending the display, she turned towards him, covering herself with the towel.

"You wish something, sire?" She drew out the word sire, almost mocking him, knowing he would be unable to speak. With the grace of a model, she strode towards the bed, dropping the towel along the way. The king started towards her but was stopped by a wave of her hand.

Spreading her lovely legs to reveal the gates of heaven, the Queen pointed to the floor. Obeying immediately, the king dropped to his knees and crawled to the bed. She motioned him to join her on the bed where his lips found his reward. Hesitating no longer, the king licked and sucked with the talent she taught him. His artful kisses led her to a glorious climax. Her lovely legs were wrapped over his shoulders. The erotic condition made him stiff and hard as he rubbed against the bed.

Satisfied with his oral worship, the Queen pushed him away. His lips craved contact with her and followed as she slowly rolled to her side.

"Are you still eager to please me, sire?" she mocked again, reminding him who was in charge. With his mouth still glued to her blessed fount, the king glanced up. The Queen wore an evil, contemptible sneer on her face as she watched him. With his mouth and lips covered with her precious juices, the king acknowledged his need to serve her and he nodded meekly.

"Then serve your Queen as she desires."

As the words left her mouth she rolled on her stomach. The gorgeous mounds of her smooth buttocks appeared before his face. The king was torn, his dignity battling his desire. He gazed at the soft, beautiful slopes, his mouth watering. The image of her bending over at the bath came back to him. A wicked lust overwhelmed him and he felt the overwhelming need to kiss her delectable ass.

With a mind of its own, his tongue snaked from his mouth and gently licked the soft skin of one of her cheeks. Desire conquered and he sought the crevice. With adoring hands, the king pried the cheeks apart and explored the depths within. She thrust back at him, ensnaring his tongue deep within her hole. Suddenly, as he demonstrated his absolute devotion, the pent up seed exploded against the bed as he climaxed mightily.

She granted him some time to kiss and worship as he came down from the emotional high he just experienced. He fell asleep, his mouth glued to her beloved ass.

When he awoke the Queen was gone. Rising from a restful sleep the king went about the day in a state of confusion. On one hand, because of the release, he felt sated, but one the other, because of what he did, he felt totally debased.

The agonizing day proceeded slowly while he attempted to console himself with what he had done. He was king and yet he had subjected himself to achieving sexual satisfaction while kissing and worshipping his Queen's ass. The mere idea was beneath him as the leader of the land. Just the notion caused him suffering. What he had done was not right.

As the day ticked by the king no longer dwelled on the humiliation, instead he remembered how wonderful it felt licking her there, how satisfying it was to climax while subjecting himself to his Queen's royal rear end.

Feeling guilt, he tried to remove such thoughts from his head. He must, as a king, reassert his proper role in the relationship. Tonight he would, he pledged to himself. Tonight, his lance will thrust within her queenly virtue.

Later, the king entered the bedchamber feeling very confident. He would no longer submit to her wiles. She is only a woman, a mere subject, after all.

The Queen surprised him, greeting her sire with a kiss, melting into his arms and molding to his body. He reacted immediately and his manhood filled and became aroused. She withdrew from the embrace and went to the bed.

"I have mistreated you, sire. It is time I renewed my role as your wife. Come, let us enjoy ourselves the way we did as newlyweds."

Rejoicing in the ease of her surrender, he lay upon her and kissed her deeply. As his weapon enlarged, he worked his way down from her mouth to tease her neck. The valley alongside her shoulder tasted wonderful. From there it was but a short distance to her ample breasts, where he feasted on the excited nipples, craving the haven between.

While teasing and playing with the reactive teats, the king felt her insistent hands push him further down her gorgeous body until his lips found her lower lips. Although he initially vowed to avoid the trap between her legs, he found himself succumbing to the sweet temptation. He relished the exotic taste and submitted to her desire.

As his mouth found her womanhood he acknowledged his love for his beautiful Queen. With the taste in his mouth and her perfect pussy responding to his insistent tongue, he accepted his position.

It dawned him that this is where he belonged, here, between her legs, serving her. He realized he would do anything to be at her shrine—the altar where he worshipped. Again and again, she climaxed as he worked his magic on her pussy.

An hour later, after the third orgasm, the Queen made the defining move. Gently holding the king's head from her pussy, she slowly rolled to her stomach, offering her ass for his adoration.

This time there was no hesitation on his part. He was hooked and he no longer cared. And she knew it.

From that day on, he was king in name only. When the work ended each evening, he would crawl to the Queen's service. She was the one in command, total command. As ruling Queen, she made all the decisions, he merely obeyed. Soon she even sat on the throne, with the former leader at her feet like a lowly slave, eager to obey any and all commands.

Once waited on by everyone in the kingdom, he now performed lowly duties like washing her underwear and helping her dress. As he did the chores, every once in a while, if she was in the mood, the Queen would allow him access to one of her precious areas.

At night the servant would wash her feet, kiss them dry, sucking each toe, slowly working his way upward. Her body was his shrine and he worshipped her.

One night, he was tied under the bed while she enjoyed the services of one of her more worthy subjects. He listened to her groans as the muscular warrior plowed into her above his head.

When the poor subject left, drained and exhausted, the former king accepted a new duty, cleaning his Queen of another's seed.