that my growing strength isn’t unknown to him and he believes it could one day become a threat,” I said as calmly as I could.
“And will it?” he replied coming straight out with it. I swallowed hard and after grabbing a goblet of what I could smell was ‘swine wine’ I told him,
“Not unless he does something foolish like trying to take what belongs to me.”
“You mean like my granddaughter who you boldly claimed as your own?” he came right out and said it.
“No, for that wouldn’t just be foolish but more so deadly,” I replied knowing that my warning would be loud and clear and one that would get back to him quickly. Then I took a drink of the amber liquid, named as it was due to fermenting of the swine berry. This was named such for its foul smell when the Hell grown plant flowered. Its taste was a bittersweet flavour that clung to my tongue and made me thirst instead for the sweeter blood of my Chosen One.
“Duly noted, now please, enjoy my hospitality,” he said splaying an arm out towards the tangle of bodies all lay upon the table and displayed like flesh coloured platters for the different dishes we were expected to eat.
There were folded slices of meats arranged on bare muscular chests, following the natural dips and contours of the male physique. There were female bodies overflowing with fruit, with slices cut to frame breasts that were drizzled in golden honey. Salad leaves that made one female look like history’s depiction of Eve in the garden of Eden. One with the bitten apple she permanently had held in her mouth like a ball gag, was a telling tale, however the cock up her ass, was not. As for the rest, other than the common naked theme, each body was also connected with the next in some way. Every hole was filled if not by flesh then by the food we were expected to eat.
But one glance at the room beyond the feast and it was no different. The gothic opulence of a King was all around us in both what I would have named a gaudy and predictable décor. Statues painted gold were actually two living slaves positioned in some sexual act together that I had noticed changed every five minutes or so. These framed either side of the seven archways along one wall that were closed off from view by thick, dark red curtains of velvet to match the chairs. Glossy black furniture adorned the room, including the grand table that took up most of the space. On the other walls a black material clung to the stone like thick textured wallpaper and was decorated by large sigil symbols, depicting his rule in gold thread.
At the far end a woman was hogtied to a pole and was being filled from both sides by one man at either end. One with a cock in her mouth and one in her pussy. Doing so whilst both were basting her skin with oil, making her pale skin slick, wet and glistening. This was at the same time as the pole she was tied to was slowly turning her around like a roasting pig that thankfully was without the fire.
Next to her was another serving station with a naked girl tied in a cocooned web of rope, hanging from the beams above. She was also suspended at an angle that made her legs higher than her shoulders, with her chin resting on a platform. I suspected this was to keep her head raised, naturally thrusting her chest down.
This was so that the lowest parts of her were her large breasts, a pair of milky globes that hung down and were positioned over the table below. Directly under her nipples were two golden goblets awaiting to be filled and with a flick of their master’s hand, two slave girls started to pour jugs of red wine slowly down her body. The wine travelled the length of her arched back, soaking the ropes red that bound her. It continued down until flowing over the sides of her tits and clinging there until large droplets gathered against the hard points of her nipples. It then started dripping into the cups below making it look like the girl was being milked of alcohol.
“I call it Virgin Filtered, if you care for some?” he asked, and my look said it all, meaning I didn’t need to voice my refusal. He shrugged