Dryston   

King Dorian. Infamous for his nine dead spouses all lost from innumerable tragic events established at the young age he wed. Some of his betrothed were murdered, some were sentenced to death, a punishment for their infidelity. Others died of natural causes. Personally I had always looked down at the king and his marriages. Scoffed at them from afar. It appeared to me as if the man was simply looking for an excuse to get rid of marriages he was tired of. I had never heard of a King slaughtering his betrothed because of such an act, many kings attempted to reach an agreement with their lovers, but for him I am positive that he simply desires fresh meat. No matter how horrid he appears to me, King Dorian is known to be a fair and just King. If you refrain from growing on his cruel side. However, often times he has been known for being grave and callous. His marriages were known to follow in that exact pattern. Emotionless, staid and lack-luster all of them ending in tragedy. It disgusted me and I never sought out anything to do with the royalty, I eschewed going to the executions that were held for the adulterers, they made me sick.

Yet here I am, only days away from being wed to the precise man in which I seem to loathe everything about. Why then, you may question am I marrying him? To be candid what choice do I have? He is the King, how can I deny the King? Despite my dislike for the man he is impartial, and treats his people tremendously well in comparison to other Kingdoms. How can I, a mere stale boy dare to disrespect him? Even if I had said no, he still would have found a way to intimidate me into the union regardless, I could see it in the way he regarded me. With eyes that burned vividly with thirst and the desire to covet me. And now I can’t help but feel like I am going to be captured and imprisoned in a cage used merely for the Kings nightly desires. No matter how sickened I am with this new-found reality of mine, I do not wish to come to the same expiration as his past marriages.  I crave to live a long jovial life, I am barely twenty-one years of age and I have so much left to live for.  I refuse to be daft like the former husbands and wives of the King. I will not deceive the King or give myself to any other man but him, no matter how intensely I might desire to, and because of this simple fact I know that I will be in his castle for the remainder of my life. “Mother,” I sigh dejectedly, staring out the window of our bakery. “Why me?”

The woman who brought me into this life slams dough down against the wood of the countertop, kneading her fingers into the soft substance dangerously. I can see her biting the inside of her lip violently, her eyebrows knotting in worry. “I do not know my boy.” She says glowering down at the task at hand, seeming to release all of her wrath on the dough.

“Why now?” I continue to question, knowing that I am not asking anyone in particular. “I have been working in his stables for years, and he has never become aware of me. And now, so suddenly I am being forced into his arms?” Rage boils inside my stomach, aching to be free as I am reminded of the first and last meeting I had with the King. The way he so recklessly moved towards me, trapping me. “I hate this, I hate it.”

“I know you do Dryston, and I wish that there was something that I could do to stop this.” My mother sobs suddenly stopping her work at the dough. Her hair falling askew around her worn face. Of late mother has been looking unwell, and I know for certain that it is because of her worry for me. She raises a hand to her face whipping at her tears, leaving behind a white streak of flour. “I never wished this for you, I never thought for a moment that this would happen to you. I thought you were safe.” She sobs again before reaching to wipe her hands on her apron, making her way around the counter to me. Her hands come up to clutch at my face gently, motherly. Her thumbs stroke my skin lovingly and I feel tears sting my eyes. “Dryston, please I beg of you do not do anything reckless, I cannot bear to lose you. I cannot bear to have to watch you be slaughtered on that damned log.” She cries. “You are my only son, do whatever you have to do to stay in his good graces.”

The tears of horror, of complete and undeniable sadness that have been pooling in my eyes fall as I collapse to my knees in front of my mother. I hug her, wrapping my arms around her waist and pressing my face into her stomach like a child. She wraps her hands around my neck stroking at my hair soothingly, and yet I can feel the tremors of her sobs shaking throughout her body. We stay like this for a moment, both of us crying for my fate, whatever it may be. “Mother, whatever shall I do?” I sob clutching onto her skirt. Gently she grabs my face in her hands pulling me back so that she can lower herself to kneel in front of me. Her eyes are red and wet from her tears, the wet droplets leaving wet paths in their wake, and yet my mother manages to pull a smile onto her face. She leans forward and places wet kisses on each of my cheeks, before pulling back to look at me once more, “Well dear, today you will assist your mother with the baking,” She informs me with a smile, in an attempt to be cheerful, however her face falls as she goes on, “and tomorrow the royal seamstress will arrive to take your measurements.”

Tomorrow arrives all too soon. I stand upstairs in our living quarters as I hear my mother downstairs greeting the woman who is to put together the outfit for my wedding ceremony. I can feel the anxious rumbles beginning in my stomach, and I have a terrifyingly realistic fear that I am going to lose the contents all over the royal seamstress. The fear only heightens when I hear the footsteps descending up the stairs. I do not wish to be measured, I do not wish to be married. I do not wish for any of this, and yet I have no decision in the path my life is taking. The door to the room opens to reveal a plump jovial woman, her hair held tightly up in a bun. She scurries into the room, thanking my mother who gives me an assuring smile before turning and heading back down to the bakery. The little woman hurries to the table placing her bag onto the wood, as she pulls out her measuring tools, the cloth and the scissors and pins. My outfit has been mostly designed already to my surprise. “Hello your Majesty.” The woman greets busily pulling a stool into the middle of the room, “If you could just hurry over here so that we can get the outfit on you please.” I obey her saying nothing.

 “If your Majesty could please undress himself.” She offers, and I flush crimson. Gods, everything I have been ordered to do of late, and now I must undress in front of a complete stranger. I want to object however I know I must not if I want to have my clothes fitted properly for the wedding. Dejected I begin to peel my clothes from my body placing them on the ground near the table. As soon as I am undressed the woman rushes over with my wedding attire. The outfit is completely white with embroidery of gold thread. “If your Majesty would allow me to assist him in dressing?” She asks pleasantly. Unsure I simply nod and obey her as she orders me to hold out my arms. After much moving about and adjusting I am finally dressed, standing on the stool in the middle of the room as the woman kneels in front of me pinning the outfit where it has to be adjusted. The silence is disturbing and I find myself fidgeting all too much, “Your Majesty, please refrain from moving I do not wish to stick you with a needle.” The woman informs me.

 I nod before biting on the inside of my lip in agitation, “uh, Could I ask your name?” I find myself inquiring before I can stop myself, however I suppose it does not matter since soon I will be a King and will probably be seeing much more of the woman.

“If you wish your Majesty, my name is Juliana.” She responds cheerily. I feel her tug at my legs pinning the cloth.

“Juliana, if I may, how long have you worked for the king?” I pry tugging at the white sleeves of the clothes wrapped around me. I wonder how the fabric looks against my skin, I wish I could see it.

“Oh since King Dorian was but a lad your Majesty.” She titters joyfully, “I remember sowing the rips he always seemed to acquire after sparing, he was always such a competitive child.”

I nod as I inspect the fine material, in awe at how soft it feels against my flesh. It is the finest material I have ever had the pleasure of wearing. “I cannot imagine that man was once a child.” I spit before I can stop myself. The seamstress does not seemed fazed by my venom, instead she lets out a twinkling laugh.

“Yes, it is quiet hard to believe is it not, seeing how cold he is now.” She sighs wistfully, “You are lucky that you are being wed to him.”

 “How exactly do you mean lucky? I do not think of this as luck, the gods must have a vendetta against me to make me suffer so.” I scowl down at her.

“Your Majesty needs time to get to know the King, keep an open mind. Do not reject him straight from the start, then you will never deepen your relationship.” She scolds looking up at me in a motherly stare.

“I do not wish to deepen our relationship.” I mock, “I never wished for this, if I had my way this would never happen. I do not wish to die, and in order for me to keep my life I have to give it up to him.” I shake my head in distress, running a shaky agitated hand through my hair, “There is no escaping.”

“Your Majesty do not be so dramatic, despite your thoughts I doubt it will be so terrible. You must refrain from having such a negative view.” She objects moving upwards to my hips.

“Refrain from having such a negative view.” I laugh, “I have to marry and give my body to a man who takes great pleasure in killing his partners, how exactly am I supposed to remain positive in such a situation?” I ask of the woman. “I am a man, why must I lie with another man?” I ask again, my voice rising hysterically, “I am not prepared for this!” I say gesturing to the outfit, while referring to so much more.

Juliana stops and stares at me for a moment before grinning, “Oh so this is really about you becoming a man?” The way she says this sends shivers up my spine. Shivers of fear and disgust, “Your Majesty is frightened,” Juliana smiles up at me, “and rightfully so, this is a significant step for one as unsullied as yourself.” She focus’s in on my waist pinning the material to fit me snuggly, “It has been many years since his majesty has had someone as fresh and chaste as you. It’s actually quiet shocking you know.” She starts, “He has never been so engrossed in a mere village boy before, all of his prior partners have been born into royalty who knows why he chose you child, all that matters now is that he did and in a matter of days you will be his husband.” She sighs standing to pin my arms, “Try to learn to love him your Majesty, It will make everything so much easier, so much more pleasant.” I snort and roll my eyes up to the ceiling. I cannot have a man. I do not know how to have a man. I imagine it is terrifyingly excruciating to have another inside of you.

Despite being twenty-one I have always been pure in body and mind. Waiting for the right woman to grab my attention. However the night after I wed the King I will be forced to give him everything. How could I possibly be optimistic about the whole circumstance? Especially knowing how much he wants me to himself, how much he has been waiting to have me. Millions of questions are haunting me. Will it be painful? Will he hurt me, or make me do odd things? Quakes of disgust rake up my spine and I gag inwardly to myself. Juliana smiles pulling back to inspect her handiwork. “There all finished.” She smiles, “I wish you could see it, you look sorely exquisite.” She admires me before continuing on, “now we will take it off of you and I will return to the castle and make the adjustments as quickly as possible so that it is ready for your wedding in three days’ time.” Oh gods, three days’ time? Is that all I have left? Feeling abnormally queasy I allow Juliana to assist me down from the stool, and in getting my wedding attire off. After I am undressed she packs up all her materials and heads to the door, turning back to me briefly, “Do not think to terribly of his Majesty, try your best to wheel him out.” And then before I can question the meaning of her words she is gliding down the stairs and away into the night.

It is now three days later, and I am standing in a room in the castle. I am gazing at myself in the mirror, admiring the way in which the white and gold threaded fabric clings to my skin. I have a royal disposition to me, and I cannot help but fall in love with the man in the mirror even though I wish with all my heart that I could stare at him from a distance. Live my life while this body stays behind. I have not seen the King since that day a week ago. It is customary that the King not see his betrothed in the weeks prior to the wedding. The King and I will be married in the castle chapel, in front of our families and some of the most influential royals in all the Kingdoms. Then we will attend the town celebration in the circle, where merrymaking will go on until early in the morning. However I will only get a few hours’ time at the party, before I will be moved into the castle where the maids in waiting will bathe me and ready me for the wedding night. Tonight.

Since early this morning the town has been preparing for the celebration, and now it is reaching the time. The time where I will have to entrust my life in the hands of a man I despise. Reaching out I run my hand down the face of the mirror, wishing that I could somehow sink into the glass and disappear. However a loud knock brings me out of my fantasy, and soon my family is entering the room. My mother, father, and even little Ann between them clinging to their hands. As soon as mother sees me there are tears in her eyes, but I am unsure of whether or not they are tears of sadness or joy because the smile on her face is unmistakable. She rushes towards me with open arms and I comply. “Oh Dryston, you look so handsome.”

“Thank you mother,” I smile as she pulls back to look at me and I get a look at the elegant gown that the Kings seamstress has made for her. “As do you.” She sniffles tears streaming down her face, “I cannot believe this is happening.”

I hold down a nervous, fearful shudder and nod as I brush a few stray hairs from her face, “Yes, nor can I. I never wanted to give myself to a man, our king.” I look up at my father as he walks forward hoping for some guidance in his eyes. He smiles comfortingly reaching out to rub the top of my head “Do not make any mistakes son.” He warns me lovingly, and all I can do is nod.

“Yes father.” I know what he speaks of, and I have no intention of putting myself in a position of such danger.

“Dryston you look so pretty!” Ann states adorably, her chime like voice breaking the tension. Smiling sadly I sink to my knees in front of her and grab her cheeks in my hands, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead.

“Thank you Ann.” I whisper, staring at my young sister. I do not desire to be ripped away from her. I need the freedom to visit her at all hours of the day, I cannot handle any of this. The world is rushing around me. And I feel extremely overwhelmed, and right at that moment a lady in waiting enters the room.

“The ceremony is about to begin, you must hurry to the chapel.” She informs my parents with a graceful bow of her head. They nod and turn back to look at me with sad smiles, and I know that they are going. Panic strikes through me and I shake my head running after them to the door where I grasp at my mother’s hand.

“No mother, don’t leave me!” I beg fearfully holding tightly onto her hand. I feel like a scared child, being left all by himself in some foreign place. She gazes at me sweetly stepping back into the room. She takes my head into her palms pulling me down so that she can place a kiss on my forehead.

“I love you Dryston.” She smiles, and then she is leaving the room following the rest of the family down to the chapel. I fall to my knees in front of the door, feeling out of breathe. I begin to panic pulling my head between my knees in an attempt to shut the world out. This is too sudden, it’s happening to quickly. I don’t want this, this is not how my life was supposed occur. I led out a wet sob and rock forwards repeatedly. It is only moments before Juliana is walking into the room seeing me on the floor wrapped in on myself.

“Dryston what in the name of the gods are you doing!” She gasps rushing towards me. She collapses to her knees in front of me pulling my face up to look at her.

“I cannot do this!!” I sob up at her, “I am terrified Juliana, I am so terrified!”

“Oh!” She hushes pulling me into her arms, “Dryston, everything is going to turn out. I know that you can do this, you are a brave boy. You will get through this. The King is really not that terrifying of a man.”

“It is not just him,” I sob, “My whole life is going to change, and everything is going to be different. Juliana what will my purpose be? To go to the Kings bed whenever he calls?” I shake my head.

“No boy, you will make a difference. I will be here by your side to help you as long as I am alive. Do not fret.” She shushes me in her arms until I have calmed myself pulling away to look up at her.

“Will you be here to help me get ready for tonight?” I ask hesitantly. She smiles endearingly at me with a nod.

“Of course I will, whatever you wish Dryston.” I nod, finally comforted and she pulls me to a stand. She brushes off my wedding attire before taking my elbow in her hand. “Now are you ready to marry a King?”

                Nodding I allow her to lead me down to the chapel, where the door opens to reveal a room full of elegantly dressed individuals. At the front of the room King Dorian stands silently, covered in a heavy cloak of the same material mine is made out of. The only difference being that he is enveloped in fabric of a dark royal purple. He along with the other royals in the chapel looks up at me as the door opens. The sound of Latin hums through the room from a choir that is hidden out of my vision. Nervously I glance around the chapel, meeting the eyes of many royals. However they are not who I am searching for as my eyes continue to score the masses. A pair of crystal blue eyes grab my attention and I smile as my eyes come to rest upon my mother. She smiles at me tears still in her eyes, and beckons me to continue forward.

                I turn away from her gaze, maintaining a stoic expression. I am not elated to be here, and I will not pretend to be. As I reach the podium and come to a stop in front of King Dorian, I recognize the three young princes sitting on the right side of the isle, lined up according to age. They meet my gaze briefly before turning away to look at their father. I follow their eyes up to him, examining him. King Dorian.

He stands tall in stature, his body muscled underneath his attire. His chest is broad and chiseled, his hair dark and chopped short. He has a healthy dusting of hair across his face, and I can’t help to wonder if it will be uncomfortable on my skin. God how could that not be uncomfortable? Shivering in disgust I let my eyes rest over his face to better examine his firm jaw, and his strong royal nose. His lips are firm and pink pressed in a thin line, his eyes burning a deep a bright blue that expresses his desire in a mere glance. I ignore his gaze as best as I can turning to look at the father. The music stops upon his signal and he starts. “Please take each other’s hands.” He orders us.

King Dorian does not hesitate reaching down to grab my fingers in his clasping my hands tightly. His expression remains stoic. Truthfully I do not listen to the words the priest speaks, looking at the space directly under the Kings chin in order to avoid any and all eye contact. I remain motionless until I hear the priest ask me if I will accept the terms of marriage to “His Highness the King Dorian” I respond with a simple hollow yes.

                “The rings.” The priest says slowly, passing me the ring that is to go over The Kings left hand. The King allows me his hand and I quietly slide the ring up his skin, desperately attempting not to gag at the pressure of our skin touching. He does the same to me and the priest murmurs a few remaining words before announcing that the King may kiss me. My whole body stiffens, my muscles pulling taught as I avoid the Kings gaze. He reaches up taking my face in his hands pressing his lips to mine briefly. I nearly choke, but instead swallow down my unease exceedingly thankful that he decided against displaying too much passion in front of the guests.

                He pulls away from me and takes my hand in his leading me down the aisle and out into the town circle. When we burst through the doors King Dorian raises our arms into the air displaying our clasped fists. The village is silent for but a moment, before they break out into cries of joy at the sight of our clasped hands. Frankly I have never been more uncomfortable in my life, I wish that King Dorian would release my hand. He seems to hear me because once the cries die down he releases my hand. “Let the merry making commence!” He yells across the circle.

                The people again begin to cheer and King Dorian leads me to a long table. There are two seats set at the head of the length and I assume they are placed for us. Together we sit, and quietly fill our plates with food. I eat slowly, cautious of my queasy stomach the nerves have still yet to settle down. Now that he wedding ceremony is finished I am dreading what is next to come. Everything seems to go by rather hurriedly because of my worrying. The silence between us is uncomfortable and all I want to do is escape. I am certain an hour has passed and I still have yet to eat a fourth of my plate. I push the food around in distress listening to the deafening scratch of silver on glass. “Is the food not to your liking?” A deep demanding voice inquiries from beside me. I nearly jump out of my skin.

“No it is lovely.” I respond hurriedly, the faster I respond the faster the conversation is over. I set my fork down on the table and watch the performers sing for us. They sing tales of our ancestors, I know the songs like the back of my hand. And I cannot help but to rest my chin in my hand admiring the townspeople’s ability to sing a story. I remember when I would sit at the fountain and play the tunes to the exact songs, gathering the children around to dance. My heart aches painfully and I latch my eyes onto my sister who is sitting all by herself on the curb. Her petite feet tap against the pavement wanting to join in the dance, but she has never had to dance away from me.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” King Dorian asks again, and I roll my eyes in displeasure. Why must he keep talking to me? I mutter a quick yes, swishing the water in my cup around, “You are lying.” He responds simply staring out into the crowd of people.

“Really, how could you tell?” I ask mockingly, I wish I had my flute so I could join the others.

“How could I not.” He drawls simply gazing at me. I refuse to meet his eyes, I do not wish to look upon him until I absolutely have to. Ann chooses this moment to wonder over to where I am perched. The little blonde girl grabs my hand eagerly before opening her tiny mouth, “Dryston, will you come dance with me?” She asks prettily.

Surprised that my parents have allowed her to stay up this late into the night I pull her up onto my lap, “What are you doing still awake, it is time for bed.” I scold restraining her small attempts to break free from my grasp. I enjoy the feeling of her in my hands, I could hold her all day.

“But Dryston, It is your wedding of course mummy and daddy let me stay up.” She says, as if I am the daftest person she has ever encountered. “Are you going to dance with me or not?” Her words hit me like a bolt of lightning. It is my wedding night, I have to lay with the King tonight. Silently I turn my head towards the king, avoiding eye contact.

“You Majesty?” I ask.

“You may go.” His deep voice allows, and I stand letting Ann lead me to the children who are dancing jovially. All of them are excited that tonight they are allowed to stay up just a bit longer. The children and the music have me soon leaving my wedding night behind in the back of my mind. I grasp Ann hands and fling her into the air, spinning her in circles as she giggles and shrieks before setting her down to dance. I lose myself for nearly an hour before I feel a hand grab my elbow. I turn around to address the person holding me, but when I meet King Dorian’s eyes my heart stops and I avert my gaze coming back down to reality.

“Your Majesty?” I question behind clenched teeth stepping away from the young children.

“I will wait for you in my chambers Dryston.” He tells me leaning into my back to whisper into my ear. Fear shoots up my spine and I shiver as his breathe strokes my neck.

“Of course your Majesty, I will not make you wait.” I grumble, and sigh in relief when he releases me and walks away towards the castle doors. Once he has disappeared inside I hurry to Ann’s side grabbing her up into a tight hug. “Oh my dear sister!” I growl happily, as she shrieks. “I am afraid I must retire for the remainder of the celebration, my new husband is asking for me.” Ann looks a tad crestfallen but I lean forward and place a kiss on her forehead, “Would you tell mother and father for me?” She nods her blonde head and I place another parting kiss on her cheek before leaving the circle behind me. I spot Juliana waiting by the castle doors for me a quiet smile on her face as I join her. “Well.” I whisper quietly.

“Well, why don’t we get you prepared for your husband dear?” she smiles leading me into the castle and up the stairs. I cannot up help but feel the urge to dart away at any given moment, but I know that Juliana is expecting that as she winds her arm through mine. The evil woman. We travel together through the maze of halls for what should seem like ages but to me seems like mere seconds due to the amount of fear striking through me. The door opens and Juliana shoves me inside with an unsettling amount of force. I stumble in confusion as several bodies rush at me pulling at my clothes, yanking the material from my body. It happens so fast I barely have the time to blink before I am standing in the room completely naked.

“What is going on?” I gasp in shock staring up at Juliana as I hold my hands over my privates.

“No time child, ladies send him to the bath.” She orders following closely as the women push me into the bathroom, where a large tub sits filled to the brim with bubbles of soap. Once I am pushed down into the water Juliana comes to sit beside me. “How are you feeling your highness?” She asks with care. The warm water surrounds me, pulling me into a relaxed state.

“I am terrified.” I respond honestly as the woman around me begin to scrub at my body.  The scent of vanilla wafting around me from the oils in the tub. “I have never laid with anyone before, I am terrified that he will hurt me. I am terrified because I do not love him. It would be so much simpler if I was willing.”

Juliana smiles down at me rubbing at my shoulders gently, massaging my worry away to the best of her abilities. “Try not to fret Dryston, dreading it will not make it better.”

“I know.” I murmur quietly before the woman are yanking me out of the bath and pulling me back into the room. They dry me over with plush soft towels before they yank a soft white robe over my arms tying it shut at the front. I blush at my nakedness feeling revealed to the world despite the fact that I am wrapped in the fine material. They do not grace me with undergarments, just the white robe wrapped around me keeps me hidden dragging behind me on the floor. One of the women run a brush through my hair, and I am quiet tempted to swat her away. I doubt the king is going to be worried over my hair!

“Now look at you!” Juliana coos holding me at arm’s length, “You look magnificent Your Majesty.”

“I do not feel magnificent.” I grumble back at her staring at the ground whist agitatedly running my hands over my arms. Juliana sighs shooing the other women from the room.

“Dryston this is your night, you may be scared and you may not love the king but give him a chance. He might just surprise you.” I roll my eyes, the only thing that would possibly surprise me is if he never showed up to the chambers. “My advice to you is to enjoy yourself, let your new husband sweep you off of your feet.” I ignore everything she is saying, I still do not wish for this to occur. No matter how passionate Juliana seems to be.

When we reach the door I just stand in front of it, staring at the oak for a moment before Juliana opens it up and pushes me inside with a small wish of good luck before shutting it behind me. The room appears empty, lit by a warm fire in the hearth. The shadows lick at the walls and furniture teasingly. There is a cart where a bowl of water sits accompanied by a pair of towels and a pitcher of water. My eyes continue on to land on the bed and I stop breathing. It is the grandest bed I have ever seen, with curtains of dark velvet tied to the posts. The bedspread is of a lighter red material while the sheets are a pure white matching the pillows.  The bed could fit four people inside of it, it is without questions a Kings bed. “Are you nearly done admiring?” A low attractive voice call from off to my left. Startled I turn my eyes in that direction only to throw them to the ground again when I see the King standing in the doorway of his bathroom, completely naked.

“I did not see you your majesty.” I bow apologetically, feeling nervous and flustered at his state. He stares at me momentarily before walking towards me. King Dorian stares at me for a moment before grabbing my arms and slowly leading me to the edge of his bed. I refrain from looking at him, completely mortified.

“What are you thinking?” he asks from behind me slowly pulling down the robe from my shoulder. He places a kiss on my skin that sends shivers through my body.

“I do not wish to lay with you your majesty.” I reply truthfully as he slides his hands down my shoulders pushing the material from my arms. Oh gods I said that, I said that to the King. I am going to lose my head first thing in the morning. I will not live past my wedding night. All these thoughts run through my head before the king is turning me around to face him. His expression remains stoic.

“Unfortunately you do not have much of a choice in the matter.” He informs me abandoning his grip on my wrist to undo the knot at my hips that keeps the robe closed around me, “I know that you are scared, but I promise you this being your first time. I will be as gentle as I can.”

I can do nothing but nod graciously, despite my hate for him I am relieved that he is willing to treat me well. He undoes my robe and steps up closer to me, his hands running across my hips sensually. I gasp into his neck inhaling the scent of the sandalwood oils that he bathed in. His hands are flaming against my skin, sliding down my hips to rest on my ass. Instinctively my hands clutch at his chest, and I briefly admire the muscles there before King Dorian is pushing my robe away from me and moving me back against the bed. My breathe hitches as he pushes me up to lay on the plush blankets before climbing over me with a prowess akin to a lion. Once he on top of me he pulls my legs up around his hips and I shiver at the feeling of our hot skin caressing. “Dryston.” He says, grabbing my head in his hands, his eyes darting between my eyes and my mouth. Without realizing it my tongue darts out to lick my lips, and the king shudders. “I will make you feel pleasure like you have never felt before.” Then his lips are sliding over my jaw, and I am loosing oxygen. I suddenly feel so overwhelmed and terrified of the reaction my body is having. My skin is alight where his fingers stroke and I tremble in his hands. Our eyes meet briefly before his mouth is on mine. His tongue delves into my mouth stroking against my tongue before rolling itself against the skin on the inside of my lower lip. I shudder in surprise at how enjoyable that simple act is unable to stop the quiet mewl that leaves me mouth and reverberates into Dorian’s. He smirks against my lips, before running his tongue along the inside of my lip again pulling out a moan of pleasure from me. His teeth bite at my lip tugging and sucking and I feel my lower region twitch in response. Shocked I pull away. This is not right, I am a man, and he is a man. I must not react like this.

The king seems to detect the confusion in my eyes. He leans forward, digging his face into my throat and whispers, “You are mine.” Then he drags his teeth along my skin and I gasp as he sucks violently at my flesh until it is sore and red. His mouth moves down my throat sucking and nipping, leaving a wet path in his wake. His comes to a stop at one of my erect nipples breathing over it slowly before looking up into my eyes. His stare is hot and sexual and I flush, my tongue darting out over my lips before throwing my head back against the pillows in pleasure as he slides his tongue over the nub. His mouth is hot and wet and my back arches as he runs his hands down my ribcage. His palms are big and warm and sturdy against my flesh splaying out to cover as much of my skin as possible.

“Your Majesty!” I gasp as he bites and nips at my nipple until it is sore, then he runs his tongue soothingly over it and I sigh in pleasure. That is until he is moving downwards grabbing my thighs in his hands and spreading them open. I yelp at the feeling darting up. “What, what are you doing?” I stutter anxiously.

King Dorian just stares up at me before shoving me back against the bed, “I am preparing you Dryston, be a good boy and lie still.” I stare at him my eyes briefly gliding over his naked body, the way he shimmers in the light of the fire, and the path of his dark hairs down from his chest to his….my eyes bulge in my skull as I finally find myself staring at his erect manhood.

“Oh my god.” I mutter, mostly to myself. Or at least it was supposed to be. The king stares at me as I stare at his long hard, throbbing manhood. It is so much bigger then I remember it being. “Your majesty, you are very well endowed.” I mutter fearfully staring at the monster between his thighs.

“Yes, give me your hand.” He orders, and without thought I obey placing my palm in his. “Do you wish to feel me?” He questions with a raised brow. I flush bright red not getting an answer out before my hand is touching him. His erection is fiery, heavy, and stiff. But it is also velvety beneath my fingertips and I cannot help but to run my thumb over his wet tip in wonder. His hips jerk into my hand, and I flush in amazement. I feel powerful with my hand on him in such a way, like I can control him. He groans and I bring my eyes up to his face to meet his. The deep blue orbs stare down at me as his jaw ticks in stress, and I stare up at him as I run my thumb over him once again. His eyes roll back and his hips jerk forward and again that guttural growl escapes his mouth. I let out a breath of air that I hadn’t realized I have been holding in. “Enough,” King Dorian growls pushing my hand away from him. “I will touch you now.” The gravely lust filled sound of his voice has me lying back down against the covers obediently, a pool of heat building in my stomach that I do not quite understand. He again spreads open my legs, grasping my thighs in his hands staring down at my now erect manhood pulsing against my stomach. Our eyes meet and I turn away from him with a flush of embarrassment. His hand comes up and engulfs the entirety of me, applying a pleasurable pressure against the length. He squeezes me in his hand then jerks his palm upwards. I shoot up with a gasp grasping his hand in mine, fear bubbling inside me. That felt so wonderful, and yet I somehow feel terrified. “Relax, Dryston.” Dorian soothes me, and I nod but cannot bring myself to remove my hand covering his that has me in his strong grasp. Dorian squeezes me again, pulling with a slow jerk and I cry out loudly, throwing my head back in distress at the unique feeling of being touched by him. He massages my erection in his hand for a few moments staring at my expression as my hips begin to thrust into his palm against my will.

No, you shouldn’t be enjoying this. King Dorian, the man you despise is touching you so privately. You should be livid, you should be defiant. But it feels so amazing. I lay back against the blankets, shutting my eyes as I feel his hands push my thighs up and open, and before I can understand what is happening his mouth his enveloping my throbbing erection. “Your majesty!!!” I cry out loudly my hips shooting up with each suck and stroke of his tongue. My hands dart down to his head, gripping tightly to his hair, pulling. My hips intuitively dart up into his mouth finding the wet, hot cavern to be enticing around my shaft. King Dorian pins my hips down pressing them into the mattress preventing me from pleasuring myself in his mouth. He languidly licks up and down, massaging the base of my shaft with his fingers. I hiss at the scratchy feeling of his stubble against my against my sensitive flesh as he bobs his head up and down on me. Then I feel an uncomfortable pressure in my balls, and I cry out in a mix of fear and pleasure. I feel like I am going to explode. “Your Majesty, Your majesty stop!” I cry out, my voice echoing off of the walls in the room and coming back to me. I blush at how wanton I sound even to myself. But before I can scream out another warning I am bursting. Coming with a scream of unbelievable pleasure.

Stars explode behind by closed eyelids, and I bask in the feeling of release riding the wave of undulating pleasure as my hips thrust out the ride. Once I come down from my euphoria I open my eyes only to see King Dorian licking my seed from his lips as he lifts his head from between my thighs. His eyes are dark with lust, and my body aches with desire. A desire I never knew I had, that I have never felt before in my entire existence. It terrifies me.

“Now I will prepare you.” He growls hotly as he leans over pressing his mouth to my ear. His breathe comes out hot and moist against my skin and I shiver. He begins to kiss and lick at my throat his hand moving its way to my lips where he pushes my mouth open shoving his fingers against my tongue. For a horrific moment I think he is trying to suffocate me but then he growls under his breath one word, “Suck.” I moan at the single phrase before running my tongue against the pads of his fingers suckling him like a baby yearns for mother’s milk. Once a few moments have passed he pulls his fingers from my lips and again pushes my legs open. Immediately I feel his wet fingers touch my entrance and I gasp in distress attempting to struggle away.

“Be still.” He orders, I shake my head fear consuming me, “If you are not still it will be painful!” He growls at me, and immediately I stiffen tears sliding down my cheeks. I hiccup wet sobs, only to shiver in pleasure when King Dorian runs a hand up my torso stroking me, massaging my muscles gently provocatively. “Try to relax Dryston, It might be uncomfortable.” He warns, and I say nothing. I do not want him inside of me everything was fine up until this point, why can we not just touch each other like we had been doing before? “The pleasure will come in time.” I take ahold of Dorian’s biceps and he breaths into my ear, his hot breath stroking my skin soothingly before sliding his tongue against the outer shell. What is happening to me? Never before would I have ever considered letting a person touch me like this, and yet I have practically been begging him this whole time. Gods, I have never felt like this before.

A jab at my entrance has me falling back to reality, and I hiss wrapping my arms around King Dorian’s shoulders tightly. I let out a cry of pain and he hushes me his free hand massaging my hip. My body tenses and again I feel him pushing his fingers past the first ring of muscles. I groan in pain and discomfort biting my lip as I grip onto him tighter. He pulls his finger out then sends it back in with a flick of his wrist, delving in and out a few more times before adding a second digit. When the finger dip inside of me I suck in a breath of air before I feel him scissor his fingers adding a third stretching me. I cannot say it is a pleasurable feeling, until his fingers hook inside of me and he hits a spot that sends electricity zapping through my vision, down my spine and straight to my shaft. “Oh Gods!!!” I scream in pleasure throwing my head back against the Kings pillows. Dorian thrusts his fingers into the same spot once more sending my head spinning, “Your Majesty, what is that?” I pant breathlessly.

“The pleasure, I am going to enter you now.” He informs me removing his fingers from inside me. He pushes my knees up higher against my chest, bending me in half. It is seconds before I feel the hot wet blunt head of his cock push against me, and the pain is unlike anything I have felt before. I cannot muffle the scream of pain that rockets out of my throat, followed by a wet sob. My arms tighten around his neck and I dig my nails into his flesh simultaneously digging my face into his throat. “Your Majesty, it is painful.” I sob, before digging my teeth into his flesh as he rotates his hips and again pushes against me.

“I know, I know.” He grunts, his eyebrows knitted together in a mix of pain and concentration, “You must loosen up Dryston.” As he says this his hand that was on my hip slides down by back to massage my butt. He presses the tension away from me, and I relax enough so that he can push a bit deeper inside of me, but just as soon as the pain left it returns, and I find myself screaming. “Stop, please stop!!!” I sob.

“One more push.” He grunts, and I let out a cry of horror again digging my teeth into his skin. I taste blood as I dig my nails into his back, and then I feel wetness under my fingertips. Oh god, what am I doing? King Dorian shows no sign of pain, he simply makes one final push that sends my head reeling in pain, my scream dies down to a whimper. Dorian does not move inside me, he waits a moment allowing me to adjust to his monstrous width while kissing my jaw softly. I let out a few sighs of pain opening my eyes to meet his.

“You may continue your Majesty.” I allow him, and he nods bracing himself against the mattress while thrusting inside of me. I gasp at the sensation of being full of him as he pumps in and out of me, my breath heaves out of my lungs in deep heavy pants, as slight stings of pain rocket up my spine. But they cannot compare with the jolts of pleasure that are soon produced from King Dorian’s deep languid thrusts. I moan at the hot jolt of gratification that shoots through me rolling my head back and forth against the pillows, arching my spine as I cry out, “You Majesty!”

King Dorian bucks inside of me, each thrust triggering a wave of pleasure to bloom inside of me. I gasp and mewl beneath him digging my fingers into his hair. “Your Majesty, Your Majesty!!!” I call out lustfully raising my hips to meet his thrusts. The bed pounds against the wall, and I cry out with each thrust, as he continues to abuse that spot inside of me that sends stabs of heat throughout my body. I shiver listening to my name stumble graciously from his lips as he plunges inside of me zealously. Then I feel it hit me, that magical explosion of utter satisfaction. I scream out in ecstasy as I burst all over our stomachs. My muscles locking as I ride out the pleasure. Just as soon King Dorian is cursing into my throat as his thrusts become sloppy, allowing all of his seed to spill inside of me. When it is over he collapses beside me, I shiver as his cock exits me and he turns onto his side pulling the covers over our sweaty wet bodies. I am so tired that I cannot even think about what just occurred, I immediately fall asleep.