"There are three to review today, Your Grace," Raquel said. The King stopped in his tracks in the corridor.
"Three?" he questioned, "I believe that's a record." He continued onward in the grey stone hall that connected his private chambers to a back staircase reserved for himself and other members of the royal family.
"Yes, Your Grace," Raquel said, "The campaigns in the south and the most recent tax collection have meant more candidates for Your Grace's Chamber have been flowing to us." Raquel answered him with poise and walked just a step behind the King.
She had once been such a candidate, but had reached the pinnacle of service to her lord. At a young age she found herself orphaned and sent to the care of her uncle, a peasant farmer in the north. The following year he had been unable to meet his tax obligations and so had surrendered Raquel to the Crown as payment. Within a few days, because of her looks and potential, she had been dispatched to a castle near the capitol and trained for several months to serve in the Harem of His Grace, a slave for his pleasure.
She remembered her own review day when the King decided whether to keep her in his own bed after training or be sent as a gift elsewhere, to somewhere likely far less desirable. That was many years ago, when the King was still a young and vigorous man and she was a nubile toy for his use. As she was gradually replaced by younger candidates and his interest in her waned, she became an instructor, then a deputy headmistress, and now - along with her freedom - she was the Mistress of the Harem, a trusted member of His Grace's Household.
Raquel looked at him while they walked, in silence, down the privy staircase and onto the grounds of the Royal Palace. He was much older now, she did not know for sure but knew it must be at least sixty. His grey hair was still full, and coiffed at his shoulders. He had put on several pounds since the days of his campaigning youth, but maintained an air of strength and vitality beneath his satin and furs.
In some ways she missed his attention, though she was now free to bed anyone at court. Given the gruesome ways many of her peers had ended their service... this was best. As Raquel and the King approached the Succubus Hall, a detached stone-and-log building that housed the Harem, Raquel tied back her long black hair and let it drape over her pale neck, distinctive features of northern serfs like her.
When they entered the Hall a single royal guard jumped to attention inside the square receiving room; his sword beat a metal shield painted with the King's Arms. The room was lined with polished oak and had polished wood floors. Torches lined the walls and three doors on the opposite side of the entrance led off into the other sections of the hall. Inside the room stood the Deputy Headmistress, Ayla, a tanned beauty from the southern shores of his kingdom with auburn hair that swept below her knees. The King had not seen her in several months, she had been tending to training duties, but she too occupied a special place in his household.
At just thirty, she also had been retired from the main corps of slaves after being allowed to bear the King a child, a daughter. An honor Raquel had never been permitted until the issue became moot. On seeing Ayla, the King briefly transited to a memory not all that long ago when Ayla had just begun to show that she was quick with child. After the King had announced she would be allowed to keep the baby and remain in the palace, he had taken one last opportunity to hold her head down to the base of his cock while releasing his cum down her throat. He could still remember her green eyes looking up at him obediently, though with tears streaking her pretty face, as she choked on his thick royal member for the last time and received the gift of his attention and satisfaction.
Though he could technically still have his way with her after granting her freedom, as with any of his subjects or foreign conquests, the availability of so many alternatives made such dominance unnecessary - in his view. That had been the last time Ayla had pleasured him, perhaps five years ago. Their daughter was a particular favorite of his. He had seven children he acknowledged, five legitimate and two bastards. He probably had several other bastards that would never be known, especially in the northern territories where he had put down several rebellions and in the Far East territories where he had done all his conquesting. Though his bastard daughter would later understand the small stigma of her conception at Court, she would also be provided for and eventually he would contract a suitable marriage. She would likely outrank all who sneered at her, she would certainly be more wealthy.
"Ayla," said the King, "I hear you have three new candidate for me today?" Ayla bowed her head.
"Yes, Your Grace," Ayla said, "I am proud of our work with these three and hope they please my King." Ayla clapped once and out of the farthest door in the room two eunuch stewards, both about twenty, brought out the King's cushioned chair, foot stool, and a bench all in red velvet.
The King sat in his chair and nodded approvingly. "Please continue, Mistress Ayla." With another clap the middle door opened and one of the instructors of the harem, Oliah, a curvy black woman of forty, emerged like a predator. Oliah had been an unusual addition to the Harem. She had been purchased by one of his ambassadors at a far away port across the seas and brought as a gift to the King; no one in his Court had ever seen a person of black skin before. The King appreciated the exotic gift but had not personally found her attractive; however numerous men of the Court, and more than a few women, had requested her from the King and he had obliged some as a present for his most loyal courtiers. She was one of the few Harem members whose desirability did not seem to wane with age, the King still got a request for her at least once a week. He only shared maybe one or two of his Harem slaves at any time.
"Miss Oliah," said the King. "Always good to see you. Please introduce me to these candidates, I'm afraid my blood is starting to run hot with anticipation and my patience is coming to an end." Oliah bowed without a word and clapped, dangling the one-inch thick collar on her neck. Out of the same middle door came three beautiful girls, led by eunuchs carrying the leash of each candidate.
The girls were led to stand in front of the King's foot stool, between him and the velvet bench behind them. Each girl obediently got to their knees, rested their hands on their thighs, and looked down to the floor. Each had a collar about three inches thick, to which their leashes were connected. The eunuchs remained standing at their sides.
"Your Grace," said Oliah, "These three candidates for your royal harem, we hope, are met with your pleasure. They are numbers 51, 52, and 53." Oliah bowed again and went to stand behind the King's chair, observing her pupils. Ayla stepped forward to introduce them and the King stood as well to judge the candidates. He could already feel the blood flow to his cock, looking at these prizes.
"Your Grace," Ayla said, standing behind 51. "This candidate, 51, has seen only eighteen summers. She stands at five feet and three inches, six and a half stone... or ninety pounds, Your Grace. She has been certified as pure, a virgin, from the West. Blonde hair, blue and green eyes."
The King perked up as he heard this. He reached down below 51's chin and raised it up. She immediately raised her head and looked up, but did not meet the King's eye... as was her training. The King looked down at the petite, nubile slave. She had a smattering of freckles on her cheekbones beneath each eye and elfin features, a stunning specimen, with a pointed nose and long eyelashes. The King noticed her breasts were larger than you would expect on such a slender frame, but still small. 51 was clad in a white silk shift that wrapped each breast and then formed into a small skirt, exposing her taught stomach and back. Like all the slaves of his harem, she wore small suede boots in brown that barely covered her ankles and had a one-inch heel. They were tucked under what he knew would be a very tight, young ass.
