The Warlord's Concubine

by Keep, J. E.

  Breathing heavily, he watched her every little motion as she lavished his manhood with her affections. “Neither do I,” he said at last, his voice heavy with desire.

  Her mouth began to join her tongue, kissing against him as her lips tried to encompass the circumference of his hard, aroused cock. Every vein she traveled to its conclusion, and he could tell she was doing nothing to speed his way to his end. Whereas others might, in their fear and loathing, be hurried for his cum, she was taking her time.

  Her concern for his pleasure, and her need for him to enjoy outweighed all. Her hands and mouth worked in tandem to feel out those glorious, pulsing veins and the soft flesh that covered the iron hardness of his cock. “If I were smarter, perhaps I would fear what you could do to me with such a weapon,” she purred, but her words were nothing short of ecstatic. “Instead, the desire kept burning in me through the night. If I am not at my best, I apologize. Thoughts of you...” she moaned and shut herself up by curling her tongue along the shaft of his cock.

  His harsh breathing grown so heavy, he yanked her face off his cock from its worship, his mouth open, his lips glossy from having licked at them with his hunger. “Show me your flesh,” he commanded of her, those thick courtly servants robes now a distasteful hindrance from letting the mighty God-King see her in her fullness.

  Her fingers worked diligently and it was only a moment before the heavy material slipped back from her shoulders and pooled at her feet. She was suddenly grateful for the quick trip she had taken back in the Princess’ room to shed herself of her undergarments. She had understood all too readily what would be expected of her, and her firm, feminine curves were revealed to his hungry eyes.

  She stood unmoving, encouraging him to look at her, to stare at the weight of her breasts and the light brown nipples peaked atop them, and the light bit of black hair that shielded her sex from him. Her curves were prominent and her hips were ample, as if made to bare his children. Her hand moved to her hair and removing a couple of the pins, she let the silky, black strands down around her olive shoulders, the straight tresses laid delicately atop her aroused breasts. Her hair was down to the middle of her back, yet she ensured that none of it hid her body from him.

  “I can only dream that I please you, despite my lowly status. But then, we are all lowly compared to you, My Lord. Even that is too good for us, as it denotes our ownership of you. Your Greatness,” she sighed as her eyes fell, “Shall I turn for you?”

  Something she had said or done, or perhaps it was just her beauty, set him off.

  The giant barbarian warlord grabbed for her, took hold of her neck and pulled her in as he lunged down, pushing a hard kiss to her mouth. It was such a passionate embrace of their lips, and the heat of his manhood jabbed in against her stomach as he forced his tongue into her mouth so deeply.

  With a hungry growl he broke their kiss and took hold of her by her hip. “Your sweet words hide a sweeter form,” he husked to her with almost venomous desire. The hungry man pushed her back towards the soapstone table upon which the royal family had eaten so many breakfasts over the years, pressing her against it so that she had to rest back on its cool stone surface.

  Her skin excited with the sudden change in temperatures, his heated form at her front, and the cold rock on her back. She was so malleable and eager for him, and it only grew with his increased passion for her. Arms wrapping about him, her lips lunged for him again, even as her legs spread, that large phallus sending that combination of delight and fear through her.

  She had never wanted pain so bad.

  “To please you is a joy greater than I’ve known,” she gasped before her tongue explored his demonic mouth, her need growing with every pulse of that great shaft.

  Women offered themselves and were offered to him, but she could sense that such willing desire was new and different to him. It was a wholly new experience for the God-King that commanded fear beyond respect or obedience.

  Pushing back on her shoulder, he made her rest beneath him upon the cool soapstone table. She had served her stuck up princess her meal here but a day ago upon that intricately carved surface. How things did change.

  Looking over her voluptuous form, those heavy breasts that rested against her chest, the wide hips and pleading thighs, he rested his gaze against her slick slit to see the proof of her arousal. “You’ll get your wish,” he promised, watching as her slender fingers took hold of his unearthly heft and guided his manhood to her flower. The tenderness of that moment making him groan with desire even before he jabbed his hips forward and impaled the doting servant on his godlike ebon shaft.

  She screamed, but it wasn’t the usual sound of protest and hurt. It was something so deep and primal, and a hissed ‘yes!’ trailed beneath it. Her thick thighs wrapped against his hips, but she could scarcely accommodate all of his length, despite her desire and the intense arousal that made her body easier to plumb.

  He was so deep within her canal, and the sensation was too much for her to bear. Though she had never been easy to bring to such pleasure—countless men had tried and failed, despite their diligence—all it took was the simple, single thrust of her new god’s cock to send her pivoting over the edge.

  He felt the way her cunny spasmed, the muscles contracting and massaging him so delightfully, but her cries and squirms were almost sweeter still. Her shoulders shifted, and with them, her breasts tilted to the side, the heavy orbs resting against her bicep before she jerked back against the table. Her back arched as the waves of ecstasy seemed to continue for an eternity.

  When finally she managed to still her twitching form, she was still posed so near to the edge that her eyes watered as her hips began to grind him, “I’m sorry you can’t fit, Your Greatness!’

  The giant of a man had brought many a woman to screams and orgasms upon the end of his massive cock, but never before had he done so with such relative ease. Never with a woman being so willing and wanting. To feel her quake in unmistakable pleasure around his girth, coating him with such a thick rush of honey was satisfying beyond measure.

  Resting a palm against the stone table beside her, he slid the other up over her, felt her large breast then teased her neck before stroking her cheek. It was hard not to appreciate the contrast of his dark cock against her olive skin, that thick trunk-like shaft of his prying her labia so wide, stretching them painfully about his veiny shaft.

  “It’ll do,” he said in a quiet husk, moving his hand from the table to grip her hip and beginning to control her so forcefully as he rammed himself into her.

  Even had he been gentle, it would have been a harsh experience, but the dark God-King spared her nothing as he began to piston his powerful hips, savaging her cunt with his dick as he grunted in pleasure. The look of rising satisfaction on his broad, handsome face such a thing of beauty, his long black hair dangled about him as he pounded harder, faster. They filled the garden with the sounds of flesh thudding against flesh.

  She tried to look at him, to watch him tear her asunder and appreciate her body, but each new wave of pleasure sent her reeling. It took her another few seconds to recover, only to feel her body betray her inner thoughts to the man again and again. She was greedy to see him, but with each new orgasm, her mind hazed over further and further until finally she just lay with her eyes closed, letting her body respond naturally to the powerful thrusts.

  Her breathing and moaning never stopped, and she couldn’t stop her compliments from flooding past her mouth, and even her pain sounded exquisite as she shrieked and groaned beneath him. “I will care for your heir, make him strong and powerful, yet he’ll never be like you. He’ll be born of someone less than you and never rival your throne, but he'll terrify his enemies as you do,” she moaned out, and her pleasure would not stop her praise. Her pain wouldn’t hinder her from giving him what he needed, and she willed her body to open and blossom for the man, to give him what he needed.

  It was with a quaking fury that the brute of a man hammere
d into her with a final, earth shaking cry, ramming his wide crowned cock into her depths and let loose his seed. With his strong fingers dug into her hip and breast, his hips twitched as he ground himself against her womb, the thick flood of his seed burning out of him and into her as he lost control.

  It was excruciating for her, the way he battered her cervix with each new slap, but the satisfaction on his face as he unleashed himself inside her was all she could have hoped for.

  The whole of his charcoal dark skin was coated in a sheen of light perspiration, making his hard muscles stand out all the more. She looked down, seeing his enormous cock sticking out of her so lewdly, begin to ooze the thick cream of his cum. Panting lightly, the large man’s heavy breaths were of pure satisfaction, the act being nowhere near enough exertion to tire his muscular form.

  With a lick of his lips he looked over her form with lidded eyes. “You’ve a breeder’s body,” he confirmed, “and the mindset to go with it, if you speak true.” It was only then he loosened his grip on her breast, which drew attention to just how hard he had grabbed at her.

  She felt the absence of his hand, and yearned for the aching pain once more, but instead she laid back, breathing desperately as she tried to regain her composure. She’d lost count of how many orgasms she’d had atop his great cock, but was grateful for every last one.

  “Lying to you would be a carnal sin,” she gasped, as if insulted to think she could do such a thing. Her green eyes worked up his body, but they only made it halfway before they dipped back down, staring at him as he impaled her, seeing the lips pulled so tight over his shaft. She wanted to say it to his face, but she simply couldn’t stop looking at the lewd scene.

  “Your Greatness, My Lord,” she breathed out reverentially. “Please reserve me for yourself. If one of those... lessers impregnated me before you, I couldn’t live with myself. I could be of such better use to only you.” Though something told her it was already too late for that, that virile god had planted his seed and no man would supplant it.

  The giant, dark man licked around his lips. He had curious, almond-shaped eyes that were a bit narrowed usually, and his jaw was chiselled and hard. He was such a curious blend of human masculine beauty and dark ethereal majesty it was hard to place anything about him specifically as he watched her.

  “By custom,” he began, his pecs still swelling with each new intake of breath, “I would hand you over to the troops to be used until they grew tired of you, or you were worn out.” The ominous nature of his words were amplified by his harsh, gravelly voice. “And if you survived a birth to show a child of my breeding, you would be rewarded.”

  He was a cunning man, and he watched her through narrowed eyes, studying her in the silence after his declaration.

  Her lips fell apart and her eyes reluctantly rose to his, a slow smirk coming to her lips, “I would expect no less from a cunning god,” she spoke with such reverence. Her thighs were still so tightly pressed to him, the fleshy, sensitive insides held against his hips, angling herself back to try to trap all of the cum she could within the deepest recesses of her form.

  “I defer to you, Your Greatness, but I cannot promise I will serve them well. My body belongs to another, and it would withhold their assaults until I could be returned to my rightful owner.”

  Trailing his hand up her form he cupped her jaw line, his thumb stroking along her lower lip where she tasted it there, suckling diligently as he spoke. “The princess,” he began, “if she were mine... willingly mine... I would have a legitimate claim to the throne that none could contend with,” he said huskily, suggestiveness rich on his voice.

  There was the smallest hint of distaste at his words, but it quickly made way for thoughtfulness. Her hands held his wrists, massaging his palm as she withdrew his thumb from her plush mouth, “Her father is dead, Your Greatness?”

  Instead of pulling from her, the mighty man kept his cock hilted inside her slick cunt and lowered his hard body down atop her. His weight of pure muscle and bone could’ve crushed her, but he kept it enough to merely pin her with a delightful ache. “I split him open myself,” he husked, his face so near to her now it let Mirella truly appreciate his dark, masculine beauty fully.

  It excited her, his words, his closeness, his weight, and he watched as she swooned beneath him for a second before she swallowed. “Keep me with her. Keep us for yourself, and I will teach her what it means to be a concubine to a god. All I do will be for your benefit,” she swore, and there was no begging to her tone. No neediness.

  Though she desired to please him, she would do so in any manner he saw fit, and would not presume to tell him his business. If he chose for her to be passed around like a doll, she would be the best damn doll that those men ever fucked.

  Perhaps it was that desire to please, or perhaps it was instead her willingness to barter for her position so cunningly, but it made his mighty shaft twitch within her quim, showing signs of renewed life. “If you do this for me,” he began, licking his lower lip, “I will keep you in my harem until she is mine willingly. I will give you all that time to bear the fruit of my loins. And should you succeed before then, I will keep you to myself all the same.” It was almost romantic the tone of his dark voice, talking to her so closely as they still lay entangled. “Help trick her into being mine, and there will be rewards for you beyond measure.”

  As close as he was to her, he could feel the beat of her heart quicken, and the muscles in her pussy clenched him tightly, though as large as he was, she needn’t work hard. “I will not disappoint you, for I know the punishments will be greater still.”

  Rolling his hips, the thick, veiny shaft pulled out, then pushed back in. The soft suckling of her cum and honey glazed folds gripped him so tightly. He began to pump himself into her again, his cock stirring back to fullness. “Time is of the essence,” he husked, the slap of his balls against her ass resounding in the courtyard as his pace quickened and he took her yet again upon the table.

  Once more he silenced rational thought with a haze of pleasure, and she was back to compliments, instead. Pretty, truthful words that only rang more genuine as her hips moved against him and her thighs lifted her up. She cried as he hit against her inner barrier, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but for him and his awesome power.

  Chapter 3

  Returned to the tent by one of the concubine-guards, Mirella had spent the evening tending to the delicate, needful princess. The morning didn’t seem like it would hold much different.

  New food was placed out for the women of the tent, and despite the odd mix it seemed obvious they were treated well, or so was the intention while there. In the span of that one evening she’d seen a few of the women taken and replaced, presumably to serve the needs of the God-King, but he hadn’t shown up again, regrettably.

  Plucking at some of the food on the manor platters, the princess whined, “This is awful.” The food, though from the palace's kitchens, was not prepared to the standards the delicate woman was accustomed to.

  “Come, now, Princess. It’s not that bad,” she popped another bit of melon in her mouth, chewing it and smiling, the entire act like the condescending way one speaks to a child. “See? Besides, you need your strength, my lovely girl. You need to be strong and fit so that you can get through these days.”

  Mirella had been watching everything with an excruciating attention to detail, noting which women were taken, how long they were gone, and everything about their demeanour before and after. She had a keen eye for intrigue, and she took it upon herself to be aware of potential competition or threats.

  Only one of the taken women had returned thus far, a brown haired local with curly locks, she had the wide-eyed look of someone stunned upon returning and had kept to herself since. Her competition seemed less spirited than herself, she had to confess.

  The princess, however, had spirit. It was just of the wrong sort. “Father will be here soon,” she told herself stubbornly, the waifish princess ref
using to eat. “Those... brutes,” she said, gesturing towards the tall concubine-soldiers that were their guards, “tried telling me he was dead,” and the refusal to believe it was strong with her.

  She had thought on it for the entire night, wondering if she could break the princess and remould her into something fresh and better, or if she should use that naive hope against her. Mirella hadn’t come to a proper conclusion. She licked her lips, “Princess, he would not like to see you starved and abused, too weak to stand on your own feet because of your refusal to eat.” She plucked up some honeyed fruit, pressing it towards the woman and taking on a sterner tone, “Eat.”

  With a scowl the petite princess finally gave in and took a small morsel of food. It had taken all morning to get that much done and once swallowed—with great distaste—she seemed disinclined to eat more. “What’s going to become of me, Mirella?” she huffed with despair, her slender shoulders sagging.

  “You’ll always be a great Princess, my lady. Always. Even here, among these beasts, they recognize your status and you’ll be treated well. They won’t hurt you as long as you don’t make trouble for them.” Her hand stroked along the woman’s cheek, “I’m trying to help you. To make a deal with that g— the leader,” she quickly corrected herself to a more amiable term.

  Lifting her watery blue eyes up to her servant, the delicate princess stared at her with wide wonder, “Make a deal?” Slowly distaste filled her features, “Is that what you were doing yesterday when I awoke and you were gone? Consorting with the enemy?” The young woman’s voice trembled in anger, disbelief and doubt.

  “For you. To try to get you free and safe and back to your family,” she said calmly, though she forced a twinge of hurt to her tone. “We can’t fight, Princess. We’re captured, and if we’re not careful, terrible things might happen to us. To you. I can’t allow that to happen.”