This story is tied-in with 'The Champion's Companion'. To gain insight one should read ch. 8
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The winter for Menthino promised to be harsh. The King of four decades was on the last months of his reign. At seventy three he sagged in his armor. Thankfully, he only had to wear it for ceremonies.
Crown Prince Carsol was ordered back to Lafaust. He was to return to his father's side, and his mother's too. Mistress-wife Hurickia was always waiting for him. Now with rumors of ill health swirling he had to be close incase 'it' happened.
Twenty six, tall, athletic but not overly muscular, with strong wide shoulders, close-cut blond hair and an approachable demeanor. Of his brothers he had the sunniest disposition. He smiled at everyone, talked easily with anyone and was instantly likeable. His face beamed with warmth and a deeply masculine handsomeness that any woman would find difficult to ignore. People expressed happiness knowing he would be King.
His patrol this time had been short. He wasn't given a command and a campaign to direct with a crowd of generals to advise him. This time he went out with twenty warriors.
During his patrols between border towers and along the fertile river Ort, he set up ambushes on the small groups of raiders and bandits from Astrokos. He felt more like an adventurer looking for troublesome animals as he defended the people of his lands.
He had also met Aurelia, a rare female officer. She was beautiful with short black hair and green eyes. She came from the Citadel's mysterious north tower. She didn't seem like the monster he was told came from the place. Prince Carsol had seen her bathe unabashedly. Her body was strong and pear shaped. Her limbs were long, abut her torso was short and narrow. Compared to her large hips and thick strong legs she seemed bottom heavy.
In fights, or quietly like during meals, she called him 'Master' in a way that exploded his heart. In the quiet times at camp, they had shared looks. Prince Carsol hoped when she lingered by his fire it was for him. He never got close to her. He could stand to lose her when he got home, not like the others.
Closing in on the 'Black City', he remembered the other women. He felt their shame. A few were desperate virgins of merchants and noble families he ruined knowing he would never be able to keep them. All had happily lost themselves with him. Hurickia had seen to that. Pushing them into a fervor, with tales and promises of her life of luxury, she had ensured they would attempt the most direct route possible to his mind.
As always, he would be introduced to the women by Hurickia and left alone with them, or sometimes witnessed. The last time was a short dark woman from the mud people. She wore a shimmering green satin dress with pink and white orchids in her hair from the swamps of her homeland.
She was hardly a virgin. Her eyes were so hungry for him they burned. She had sprang upon him as they sat together on a sofa. She pulled herself over him and fell on to his pants like a raptor. His huge cock didn't even hit the air before she got it into her mouth. She gagged on it in her haste. Without practice, women couldn't deal with its size. His cock was a foot long and that was even though it never was actually 'rock' hard for them. It was too heavy and thick too support itself. While she prepared the way, he went down on her. Hurickia would be angry if he delayed. They would be together too long if she wasn't relaxed enough for him.
Prince Carsol got hard for her, and she hastily mounted him clutching at him greedily. They always rushed, this one was not different. Even at the pain of her stretching, she still took him with a zealous fever in her eye. She had done the equivalent of fisting herself on him. He had nudged aside her cervix as she tried to claim his length. For this woman it wasn't painful as he slid past it flipping over her womb as the length pushed her guts aside. She frantically worked him regardless of the complications. For her, the sex was orgasmic as her body tried to lubricate to protect her, and work for a quick end satisfying him. He was aroused and close but he took much longer then her as usual. She was lazy as he pulled her up and off him. Hurickia's rules didn't allow him to cum into the women she gave him, so he had to let it out in a potted plant.
Afterwards, like always, he had gone to Hurickia to be cleansed. She lay awake those nights waiting for him. She opened the door soberly, as the guards or servants would expect. She kept her apartment private just for them. When she led him back to the bed, it was part of the ritual. She would flip off her robe to show how available she was to him. He would disrobe carefully. The invading woman's touch and smell would then only be left on his cock.
It was most vivid how she had been with him. Their times together were always identical.
With childlike enthusiasm, Hurickia threw herself back on the bed as Prince Carsol approached. She was short and less than five feet, darkly tanned, and very slim. Her dark eyes were bright and energetic with a mouth that seemed small and full at the same time. Her waist length wavy dark hair made her seem further childlike with her mannerisms. Even he had trouble believing she could pass a child, particularly him. She had come from a principality to the northeast. Her oval eyes and naturally very dark natural tan made her look somber in the dark clothes she preferred.
He straddled her narrow torso, and she felt his cock and balls drag over her chest as he negotiated his position. Finally, she felt his knees against her armpits, and she saw his cock but an inch from her mouth. Hurickia's saliva production accelerated, and she swallowed heavily, anxious to have her son's organ in her mouth.
Hurickia lifted her head from the pillow and pressed her nose against Prince Carsol's flaccid member. She inhaled deeply, and the foreign but recognizable odor of another woman's vaginal fluids filled her nose.
"Oh, that skanky bitch left her scent all over you, Prince Carsol." Since he knew words, everyone called him by title, even, and most especially, the Mistress-wives of the King who had no title.
Hurickia breathed in again, her eyes closing as she did so. The electricity in her crotch was nearly overwhelming.
"That fucking bitch! How dare she? Fuck, Prince Carsol, you're cock's all crusty," Hurickia hissed, her voice a mix of derision and lust.
Prince Carsol opened his mouth to speak, but Hurickia got there first.
"I'd better clean it off, huh? We don't want that fucking whore's juice all over you," Hurickia breathed as she took her last inhalation of Prince Carsol's sex-crusted phallus. Satisfied she'd gotten her full enjoyment from the scent, Hurickia popped his still-flaccid cock into her mouth.
