Hello, and welcome. For the record, this is not a quick-fuck story. Rather, it’s a three-part tale that will take its time in building up with characters because that’s the whole point of literature erotica, isn’t it? So have a nice read.
Chapter 2 is already on my P. It will be public published in a month.
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Once upon a time, in the southern mainland of Arkanara, lies the Kingdom of Incuria with its capital in Galatley. This is a tale of a special day, a day when the royal castle is more packed than ever with the noblest and most respected men and women from all over Arkanar. Representatives of allied kingdoms and estates, aristocrats, merchants, and famous warriors gather in the Triumphal Hall to celebrate King Inglud the Serpent Slayer’s 60th birthday.
The Triumphal Hall has been the venue for every important ceremonial event, from the coronation of a king to his marriage. As guests arrive, they marvel at the exquisite drawings on the black walls and the perfectly rounded columns. Above them, scarlet tapestries with a three-headed bear devouring a snake, the cognizance of Incuria, hang proudly.
The air is thick with revelry, the tables loaded with greasy food and excellent booze, jesters dancing in multi-colored outfits, and bards playing lutes. The guests loudly chant Incurian songs, all in honor of King Inglud. But this year, something feels different.
Recent events have cast a shadow on the king’s reputation. Rumors of political unrest and dissent have been spreading throughout the kingdom, and some say that the king’s grip on power is weakening. Nonetheless, the celebration continues, and the king’s loyal subjects raise their glasses in a toast to their beloved monarch, unaware of the troubles that lay ahead.
Inglud the Serpent-Slayer, also known as the Bear, was an unparalleled king and general of Incuria. His enemies trembled in fear and respected him greatly. With over a hundred victorious campaigns, dozens of conquered kingdoms, and thousands of slain foes to his name, he was a true legend. His massive hand could easily crush a human with a single blow, and his thick gray curls and beard gave him an air of wisdom that belied his ferocity. Despite his age, King Inglud still outshone many young warriors in every aspect of combat.
The guests at the castle drank deeply of ale and feasted on hearty fare as they toasted the king with loud exclamations of “For the king! For the king!” The warriors roared with laughter, spilling their cups of intoxicating ale as they reveled in the celebration.
The king raised his goblet, fashioned from the skull of a fallen enemy, and nodded his approval before wiping the froth from his beard.
“And for the queen!” someone shouted from the crowd.
“Yes! Yes! For the queen!” The warriors raised their goblets once more, timidly stealing glances at the beautiful Queen Nymira the Warrior, who was seated beside the king.
She wore a queen’s green robe with a deep V-shaped neckline, and at only 41 years old, she had borne several children for the insatiable king, yet still looked perfect. The gray-eyed, buxom princess hailed from the Wooded Mountains, with mesmerizing curves and long golden hair tied in a bun beneath her crown. Despite giving birth five times, she still possessed a girlish body and kept herself in excellent shape to satisfy the king’s needs and avoid giving him any reason to doubt their marriage. Every man in the castle secretly desired her, but all knew that the queen belonged solely to the king.
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