Warning: This is a very dark story containing many disturbing themes such as noncon, humiliation, degradation, corruption, sexual slavery, misogyny, sadomasochism and more. Do not read this story unless you are okay with extreme content relating to the listed themes.
I do not condone or endorse any of the activities described in this story. Sexual fantasies can be a fun and safe way to explore fetishes but always treat real people with respect. Fantasize responsibly. ^^
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I do not condone or endorse any of the activities described in this story. Sexual fantasies can be a fun and safe way to explore fetishes but always treat real people with respect. Fantasize responsibly. ^^
A few hours passed, time spent relaxing, laughing, and chatting with his pets and Wreven. Dread was relieved to see Viyana did not suffer after being gaped wide open by a gigantic cock. The girl was well acquainted with pain and her tolerance astounded him at times. They were similar in that way. Dread never showed he felt pain and Viyana was the kind of woman who laughed if she cut herself training.
One of Wreven's men arrived and let them know King Anthony and his retinue were ready to meet. Dread dressed quickly and Viyana slipped into his shadow. He exited the tent and walked outside where windy air howled through the dancing grass of the plains. Dread and Wreven navigated tightly packed tents where wild men drank with reckless abandon.
Dread arrived at a tented pavilion with three long tables and proper wooden chairs. The tables were arranged to form three sides with the chairs on the outside; a neat triangle. Wreven and Dread each claimed different tables. No one joined Wreven as part of his retinue. It seemed the Barbarian King alone spoke for his tribe. Elaxia sat on Dread's left and squeezed his leg under the table. He gave her a quick kiss before the others arrived and her eyes widened in pleased surprise.
The flaps on the other side of the tent rippled and the Golden Lands party arrived.
First came the betrayer king himself. Anthony, a handsome, well-arranged man with generous grey at his temples. An ostentatious and outrageously gaudy crown studded with gemstones nestled in his pale blonde hair. A thick cloak of the finest tailoring decorated his strong shoulders. His cold grey eyes weighed Dread as he sat at the only remaining empty table. He possessed the aura of a man who couldn't be ruffled or surprised. Dread desperately longed to shatter the facade. He would make this proud man rue the day his mother shit him out.
Three others accompanied Anthony. Following on the king's heels was a very well-dressed man, his clothes even finer than the king's, but he wore no crown or jewelry. He had a fat, round face with small eyes and a portly belly. A merchant, if Dread had to guess.
Next came a man of war. A long, jagged scar didn't distract from his overly masculine and handsome features with a strong jaw and high, hollow cheeks. His eyes were hard and his movements alert as if he was ready to pounce at a moment's notice. Behind him came the most interesting member of the king's retinue and she didn't try to mask the hostility in her honey brown eyes.
This must be the king's daughter, the princess. She glared openly as she moved to her seat but endeavored to always keep the warrior between herself and Dread. So, she was aggressive and hostile but afraid of him.
No one spoke. Dread sneered at the girl glaring at him across the table. Waves of loathing were radiating off her but she was stunning. A polished breastplate rested atop fine shirt and pants. Waves of thick, white blonde hair were tied up in a ponytail, held in place with a pale blue bow, and her bangs framed lovely brown eyes. A shortsword hung in it's scabbard at her curvy waist. Her body was toned and athletic, she had the ass of a dancer, and he could tell her breasts were sizable for her frame even under the armor. Her caustic attitude didn't detract from her fuckable physical form.
"Well," Wreven boomed. "We're all here. It's been a while. Why don't we go around and make introductions?"
No one spoke and the silence grew tense. The princess's pretty eyes were fixed on Dread, blazing with unspoken rage, while he watched Anthony. The king examined his nails, which were likely clean. Dread wondered that there weren't flecks of his father's blood caught in the cuticles.
"I'll go first," Wreven said. "I'm Wreven Glin and I'm the Barbarian King. I speak for the Wild Lands tribe." Wreven gestured at King Anthony.
Anthony spoke, his calculating gaze flicking between Dread and Wreven. His daughter still glared at Dread and he almost laughed because of how ridiculous she was. Was she trying to intimidate him? A girl with a face that pretty had no chance of intimidating him, even on her best day. Her hostility aroused him rather than frightened him. He wanted to paint her face with his seed rather than cower or flee.
"I am King Anthony, ruler of the Silken City, throne of the Golden Lands." Dread wanted to roll his eyes but remained neutral. He blinked expressionlessly at his enemy. The less they knew of him the better. His daughter maintained her venomous stare.
"This is Merchant Prince Vallim." The well-composed man in fine threads nodded his head very slightly. "He represents the interests of the merchant princes."
Interesting. It seemed that merchants held no small political capital in the Silken City considering they were allowed a seat at the table.
"This," King Anthony said, gesturing to the fighting man, "is Champion Greens. He won his position through a hundred victories in the arena and is the crown's champion as well as our personal guard."
This Greens man was dangerous. Everything about him from the greatsword leaning against the man's chair, his massive arms, and the calm, relaxed posture spoke of lethality. Of everyone present, only this man presented any threat.