The sky was a myriad of colours, light pinks and reds to deep oranges and even the hint of dark blue, the promise of night. Andrew watched from atop his castle, enjoying the quiet peace and the solitude of his castle. It was located deep in the country, a massive structure, almost an ode to the gods. The castle was a fortress, high walled and it overlooked the ocean. He usually spent his evenings staring at the setting sun. His dark hair was slightly messy, and his eyes were deep and brown. He was beautiful, like an angel, cold and desolate. His demeanour was fitting of that of aristocracy, a lord and a king within his lands. His lands were small, only forests and it was the way he liked it, no troubles of commoners.
He left the warmth of the fading sun and entered his room. It was massive, and well-furnished. The bed was massive, and soft. He made his way through the castle. He employed a skeleton staff; he treasured his privacy. He loved the solitude of the dark walls and silence they provided. The hallways were lit with torches at regular intervals, and everything screamed wealth. He had built this castle for himself, and as a gift to his wife, the Lady of the Fortress. He passed no one in the castle as he descended polished wooden stairs that gleamed in the torchlight.
He made his way to a blank wall and pulled a torch, it didn't come out, but it moved in its holding. There was a silent hiss as a section of the wall slid apart to reveal a dark doorway. He stepped through and moved like a shadow down the dark hallway until he reached an opening.
The secret tunnel had deposited him to a massive room. It was high and wide, its roof hidden in the shadows. Carved into the walls were dark cells, some held prisoners.
The room wasn't empty, there were racks of devices, such as black rope and heavy leather paddles and whips. There was a chair, but it didn't have a seat and there was a table that held several pillows.
Sitting on the table was the most beautiful woman the Lord had ever seen. She was tall, and she was beautiful with the figure that made his cock get hard in his pants at the sight of her. She had black hair, like ink that fell well past her breast and eyes that were dark and flinty. She wore nothing but a long skirt, her tits hanging free, her nipples hard and erect in the cold air of the room.
There were servants in the shadows, and they emerged silent. They wore blank white masks, and they undressed the Lord. They stripped away his suit, piece by piece, revealing his hard and strong body. It seemed as if he was carved from stone, hard and chiselled.
One of the servants got on their knees and undid his pants. He moaned as it slid off him, revealing a massive cock. It was thick, and veiny with a shiny pink head. It was at least 8 inches with massive veins curling along the sides. His balls were thick and heavy. He stroked himself as he went to his Lady. She welcomed him; and he sank into her. He kissed her, hard and long, his tongue down her throat and a hand across her neck. Her hand gripped his throbbing dick as it pulsed and throbbed in her grip. He moaned softly as she built up a rhythm.
