Tales of the Seven Kingdoms Ch. 01

Kingdom of Tiondra

Inside Castle Caspov

"Peg! Peg! Where are you hiding you slimy little fuckstick?"

"Coming my lord," huffed the diminutive steward as he ambulated up the precipitously winding stairway to his master's chambers as quickly as his wooden leg would allow.

"Move with purpose cretin, or I'll find a better use for that revolting leg of yours! One you would certainly not appreciate!"

"Right away sir," he called out jovially as he narrow avoided plummeting painfully down the stairway for the fourth time. "I'll be only a moment."

He finally crested the head of the stairs with a sigh of relief, and hobbled speedily into the apartments of Lord Kanto Caspov, long reigning baron of the lush tobacco fields in the kingdom of Tiondra. Unsurprisingly, the baron was neither alone nor rigorously awaiting his servant's presence. Rather, he was quite vigorously occupied pounding his prodigious manhood into the shapely peasant girl bent over the rattling mahogany table of his work desk. His powerful, muscled physique, well maintained despite his ripening middle age, rippled with the force of his mighty strokes, each punctuated by a sharp squeal from the blonde beauty beneath him. She moaned loudly as he gripped her golden hair in a tight fist and drew her head back to his chest, like an archer readying a shot, and thrust deep, frenzied strokes into her pert, rounded backside.

"Ohhh! Ohhhh my lorrrdddddddd," she purred shakily as her ample breasts heaved and bounced in the afternoon air. "Don't stopppp."

Lord Caspov gave a wolfish grin and drew her head back further, so his steamy breath fell heavily on her flawless, glistening neck. "Don't worry wench. I'm not stopping until I'm satisfied you won't be walking for a week," he whispered huskily into her ear, even as he continued his furious pace.

She moaned appreciatively and reached her hand back to grasp the arch of his neck. "Oh fuckkk. Fuck yes. Take it my lord. Take what's yours. Take my pussy and make it yours. Make it purr for you. Oh fuck yessssss."

With a great roar he threw her forward onto the desk and seized her waist in his firm grip. "You want it wench? You want my big, royal cock in that hot, peasant pussy? You want me tearing you up inside? You want me to make that pussy mine?"

She looked back at him with a cutesy faux pout as she gently wiggled her plump bottom against him. "Yesssss. Do it my lord. Fuck this poor peasant pussy. Fuck it good and make it yours."

He cocked back and slapped her ass with a giant smack that reverberated through the entire room and left an inflamed pink handprint on her perfect porcelain ass. "Say please bitch," he demanded with another great smack on the other cheek.

"Please. Please my lord. Please fuck my pussy. Please fuck my dirty little pussy with your big hard cock."

He teased the bulbous head of his pulsing dick against her puffy, swollen lips with a sadistic chuckle. "You want this inside you wench?"

She whimpered against the desk and vainly humped her ass against his raging cock drenching it in her soaking pussy juice. "Yes. Yes. Yes. Put it back it in. Please my lord. I need it. I need it so bad. Fuck me. Fuck me fuck me fuck me fuck fuck me fuck me. YES!" She screamed as he unceremoniously rammed his full eight-inch length into her throbbing pussy. "YES! YES! FUCK ME! MAKE ME YOUR LITTLE PEASANT WHORE! MAKE ME YOUR FUCKING WHORE! OH SHIT! I'M GONNA CUM! I'M GONNA CUM! DON'T STOP! I'M CUMMING DON'T FUCKING STOP! I'M CUMMINGGGG OHHH SHITTTTTT! OHHHH FUCKKKK!"

He speared her with his scorching hardness over and over as she screamed and came in an unrelenting succession of cascading waterfall orgasms that soaked the hardwood floor to a puddle. Her lusty legs quivered and shook as he continued his assault, and her words devolved into a torrent of panted curses. Soon his breath began to catch and he felt a familiar churning in his loins.

"Ahhh, I'm gonna cum. You want that cum wench? You want to take your lord's cum?"

"Yes!" She shrieked with unbridled abandon. "I want you to cum on my face! Cum all over me! Give me my cum! Give your whore her hot load! I want all of it! Coat me in your sticky mess!"

"Gods," he breathed with gasping eagerness. "I'm gonna cum. On your knees bitch!" With a beastly howl he wrenched his cock free and aimed the primed geyser at her matted, puckered face. She kneeled obediently beneath him and lapped frantically at his engorged head with rapid lashings of her swollen tongue.

"That's it give me your cum my lord. Feed it to me. Feed your whore her load," she muttered between licks as she frantically cupped and clawed her perfect breasts. "Come on. Give pussy her cream. Cum for me. Cum my lord. Cum. Cum all over me."

"AHHHH SHITTTTTT! TAKE YOUR LORD'S LOAD WENCH!" He bellowed as the pressure abruptly released and his blistering load exploded out. The first volley splattered over the right half of her face and dripped languidly down to pool in the mounds between her voluminous breasts. The second shot covered much of the left side, and the third would have finished the picture had she not hungrily engulfed his still erupting member in her fiery mouth. She sucked him voraciously as he spewed the last vestiges of his load on her eager tongue. He groaned loudly and nearly toppled over as she attacked his sensitive dick, and he had to physically restrain her from tackling him to the ground and beginning the delicious process all over again.

He fell back to his bed with a contented sigh and finally turned to regard his unipedal steward standing resignedly at attention in the antechamber of the room. This was not an uncommon occurrence in Castle Caspov. In fact, Lord Caspov's numerous sexual escapades were the worst kept secret in the entire kingdom. It was a popular joke that half the bastard children in Tiondra were sired from his loins, and Peg had been a reluctant witness to more of them than he desired to count.

"Has that insufferable ass-pustule Aros arrived yet?" Asked Lord Caspov with an impressive degree of nonchalance.

The steward was practiced enough in these situations to follow the non sequitur without a batted eye. "He awaits your pleasure in the audience chamber my lord."

Lord Caspov smiled wickedly. "Good." He spared a brief thought for the cum-coated nymph posing languidly on his floor. "Get rid of her."

She flinched away from him in sudden wounded shock. "But, but I thought -"

"You thought wrong," he interrupted ruthlessly, absentmindedly standing and clothing himself in a silk tunic as he spoke. "You are a peasant. A whore. You are nothing. You are worth less to me than the dirt we stand on. And if you ever tell anyone about this, anyone at all, I assure you that you will encounter a protracted, and exquisitely agonizing demise. Do I make myself clear, wench?"

She recoiled backwards on the ground as if physically struck and nodded fearfully, tears beginning to stream down her still semen-covered face.

"Good," replied Lord Caspov brusquely, already discounting the matter. "Now, on to that horsefucker Aros," and with that colorful denouement he strode blithely from the room.

Peg exhaled audibly through his nose and silently cursed the seven Gods for taking his left leg when he was a child and dooming him to this contemptuous existence. "What's your name girl?" He eventually asked, not unkindly.

"Numara," she whispered, voice overrun with shock and despair.

"That's a very pretty name. Well, Numara, let's get you cleaned up and back home before we end up roasting on a spit."

* * * * * * * * * * *

That pigfucker was late again. Why was he always late? Aros had been languishing in this intolerable room for nearly an hour waiting for the mighty Lord peasant-sticking Caspov to deign to make an appearance. Normally he wouldn't suffer such insolent behavior to stand, he was a baron himself - lord of the richest copper mine this side of the Mange River - he demanded a certain measure of respect. However, he was willing to make an exception this time, due to some exigent circumstances that necessitated a more diplomatic approach to this meeting. It had galled him to do so, but he was willing to endure for the future promise it might hold. Fortune may favor the bold, but life tended to favor the prudent.

Lord Caspov finally swept into the hall in a disheveled facade that left little ambiguity what endeavor had kept him from their meeting. Internally he fumed at this brazen display of impudence, but he smiled unaffectedly and extended a hand in greeting. "Kanto, your famed virility remains undimmed I see."

Caspov glared at his hand as if it might suddenly grow legs and lunge at him. "Aros, still the same cock gobbling cockroach as last year, I see."

His smile twitched ever so slightly, and he briefly entertained the delectable fantasy of simply slicing the man's throat here and now with the poison-tipped dagger he kept concealed in his sleeve. Master yourself Aros, he mentally chided. Soon enough, but not yet. Stick to the plan.

He forced a laugh from somewhere in the darkest, shrunken depths of his twisted soul, and its falseness reverberated through the chamber like a mocking cacophonous chord. "Well, now that the formalities are dispensed with, perhaps we can get down to business?"

"The only business I need of you is wafting your rancid stench the fuck out of my castle," waved Caspov dismissively.

He smiled knowingly. "Come now Kanto, if you were truly disinterested in my proposal, you wouldn't be here."

"Maybe I came to put an end to this fatuous bullshit," Caspov replied with a sudden flash of malice flaring across his eyes. "Maybe I thought, now that I have you here, unarmed and in the very seat of my power, I should just kill you and take your lands for myself. Right now."

He made a show of swallowing nervously, but inside he chortled. That arrogant twit, did he really think Aros would simply walk unsuspecting into his own execution? Conceit isn't a becoming portrait on the ignorant. "Peace Kanto," he intoned soothingly. "We both know the king's directive. There is to be no overt conflict between barons. Internal strife is not to be tolerated. Not with the thousands dead from the succession wars still warm in their graves."

Caspov stepped away grumpily as his fire doused to a smoldering impotence. "I know the king's fucking edict. How many times have you hid behind his words?"

"I follow the will of our liege."

Caspov snorted noisily. "You think just as much of that teenage cock holster as I do. Don't think I can't see through your schemes. You've got your eye on the crown, same as me. Only difference is, I've got the balls to say it to your face."

Well, he wasn't going to get a much better opening than that. "The king is planning a thirty percent tax increase on all the southern lands," he said quietly.

"What?!" Exploded Caspov, rage filling his eyes once again.

"The crown is broke from the succession wars. The treasury is empty. The kingdom is held together by lube and prayers. He needs funds to keep the army paid, to keep the people content, and he needs his enemies at home - the barons - to be a considerable degree weaker than they are now, lest they begin to get ideas above their station."

Caspov scratched his jaw thoughtfully. "So this is his move to consolidate power? Bolder than I expected. Maybe he does have a ball or two hidden somewhere in that sack of shit."

Aros was silent. This was the moment he had been preparing for. The moment he had so carefully orchestrated through weeks of meticulous planning. "I'm planning to overthrow the king," he said evenly, just as he'd practiced in the mirror for days on end.

All his laborious machinations would have been worth it if only to see the shockwave of astonishment erupt across Kanto Caspov's smug face. His mouth worked silent gymnastics as he stood dumbstruck, desperately trying to digest this new information without choking on it. "Why...why would you possibly tell me that?" He asked incredulously.

"Simple. I need your help."

"You need my help," he deadpanned.

"Yes."

"To take over the kingdom."

"Yes."

"You know that I despise you, right?" He asked, almost uncertainly.

Aros proffered a small smile. "I am aware of that, yes."

"You are, unquestionably, the most vile, duplicitous, likely impotent limp-dicked shitstain of a man," he heedlessly continued, "to be found anywhere throughout the entire breadth of the seven kingdoms."

Aros small smile widened faintly. "That was very imaginative Caspov, almost poetic, but truthfully that's why I'm coming to you."

His eyes narrowed warily. "What do you mean?"

"You don't trust me. I don't trust you. It is extremely likely one of us will attempt to betray the other to secure the crown for himself. It's part of the fun really. Nobody will anticipate this move. They could never dream of Lords Aros and Caspov, notoriously hated rivals, working together. They will never see us coming; it will take Tiondra completely by surprise, and that's why it will work."

Caspov stood deathly silent for several moments after his speech. His face appeared trapped somewhere between suspicion, consternation, and maybe even a rogue fragment of hope for the future. Aros decided to grease the wheels with a bit of flattery.

"You are the most powerful baron," he effused carefully with a practiced wince of ill-concealed shame. "Your knights are the most formidable fighting force in Tiondra, excepting the royal army of course. With my Serpents at their side, and a splash of devious planning and forethought, even the famed might of the Phoenix Legions can be toppled."

Caspov squinted suddenly and took a deliberate step forward. "What's to stop me from simply telling the king of your treasonous plans, and buying a prime seat to watch you swing from the gallows?"

"Not much," he acquiesced offhandedly. "Other than you having no evidence to show of this mysterious plot, and the whole kingdom knowing you have every reason beneath the sky to see me dead; and lets not forget the king isn't exactly fond of you. Doesn't sound too convincing from my end, and then you'd have no other path but to sit back, in your prime seat, and watch me ascend to the highest office in the land through some other, less ideal means."

"So you do have other plans?" He barked suspiciously.

Aros allowed his omnipresent mask to slip and bared just the smallest sliver of his true self to his lifelong rival. "I always have other plans Kanto. You would do well to remember that."

Caspov regarded him intently with a gravity that so rarely manifested itself in their usual encounters. It was easy to forget that behind his vulgar appearance lurked a keen mind as well.

I'm counting on it. Take the bait. It's right in front of you. Just reach out and bite it.

"Lets say I'm interested in your proposal," declared Caspov gravely. "Despite yourself, you've managed to pique my intrigue. I'm going to think about it very closely, and if I catch even the slightest whiff that you are playing me for a fool, even a hint of treachery, I will hail a tempest of fire and death upon you such as this world has never seen. Until every living creature in that writhing fucking cesspool you call a barony will be sent screaming in agony straight to the abyss."

"As expected," Aros replied, utterly unmoved.

Caspov heaved an audible sigh and straightened his tunic. "So, what's the plan?"

He smiled - hook, line, and sinker. "The first thing we need to do, is sow a little chaos."

To be Continued...