“A pet for my favourite concubine…Vuko has been terribly needy as of late and I do not have the time to satisfy her incredible appetite.”
A pet!? The words rang through Isallia’s head. Was this king so terribly cruel that he treated sentients as mere beasts? What were these concubines like if he spoke this way? They must be emaciated and downtrodden. As the elf contemplated her fate, the humans “talked business”; once a deal was struck the king spoke again. Not to Isallia but at her.
“Guards, escort this newest purchase to my most treasured concubine…she should be most pleased by this…”
As soon as the king returned to entertaining Isallia felt once again a rough set of hands around her upper-arms and she was soon frog-marched towards a side-door. From there the elf was led through a serious of winding corridors before finally was escorted into another large room.
It was not as vast as the throne room, but still far greater than the previous corridors or even than the houses she had spied from her kart window. The room was tall and constructed from alabaster-white marble, with spiral stairs at the back and a massive fountain in the center surrounded by a huge pool. Settled around this structure were many women, all scantily clad and in conversation with each other. It seemed Isallia’s assumption was wrong…the concubines were anything but emaciated and weak.
A pair that seemed the most familiar with each other was an Orc and a Djinn. The former green-skinned woman was well-muscled like almost all of her kind, but seemed to have a little bit of softness to her form. Meanwhile the azure-colored Djinn was a much more classical idea of a concubine. She was stunningly beautiful, with long dark-blue hair running down her back like a waterfall; her huge heaving breasts were kept in check by her glittery brassiere, and meanwhile her lower-garments were hidden in her firm but plump behind.
The other women were better fed though, much better.
Resting on the edge of the pool of water was a human woman, Isallia would describe her features as cute but modest, which contrasted heavily with her extremely revealing attire. She was also immensely fat, far fatter than even anyone at the king’s table earlier. Her huge gut sat on top of, between and overwhelmed her thighs, while her hands gently rested on its massive surface. She seemed to be a little overwhelmed with the situation, keeping to herself.
Meanwhile, settled in the middle of the pool was what Isallia could just about recognize as a Merfolk woman. Just about as this woman was clearly more lard than anything else.
Her great body was coiled slightly as she rested on her side, one pillow-shaped arm propping up her head as she beamed a dopey smile whilst her tail tried to splash in the water, but seemed pinned down by its own weight. Her face was swaddled by her cheeks and chins so much that her eyes were forced into a squint, but she seemed perfectly happy with her situation.
Isallia stared in awe, there was just no way a woman of such extreme girth and obesity could even move under her own power! Was this what the king did to his women then? Fatten them up like hogs for the for his own sick pleasure?
Speaking of which, as Isallia was led across the hall she saw another monumental woman. To her horror the elf realized she was staring at a gorgon! But the massive reptile was also in no position to actually get up and harm anyone. The obese glutton was nearly as fat as the immobile merfolk, her obesity pinning her in place as she barked at various maids to fetch her more food. Was this “Vuko” that the king had spoken of? Gods, Isallia wished to the heavens that she did not have to serve such a creature.
But it seemed fate had something else in store for her that day. The guards led Isallia past the monstrous serpentine women and up the marble staircase. They pushed open the door and made a nod to indicate she go inside. Her bindings were cut and she felt the base of a spear push against her back as Isallia entered a third room.
It was not as grand or as well-lit as any other the others, but it was still just as occupied. Most of the women inside were not more concubines however, most seemed to be nurses running back and forth helping the other two women, and these two were clearly part of the king’s harem.
The first was a Satyr, this already made Isallia a bit more nervous. While aggressions had ended between the elves and the satyrs in the Verge, it was a very tense peace. She did not trust a satyr as far as she could throw one, and in this one's case, that was not at all. The satyr was laid on her side with her gigantic backside jutting up like a mountain. Her predicament though was quite different to the women outside, for this goat-legged woman was not settled down due to her swaddling adipose, but because her stomach was stretched and swollen with child. Her pale belly jutted outwards massively; with a little bit of fur on the underside, she must have been near-to-term.
The other woman though was a more imposing figure. She was laid back in a regal position, her long orange hair flowing over her back and touching the floor, her hands here held out as nurses filed her long claw-like nails as she gave them a haughty look. Like the Satyr, this woman was also heavily pregnant, her massive belly sat neatly on her extremely thick thighs, with her huge breasts in-turn resting on that gravid sphere.
She was clearly not human though; sticking out of the top of her orange hair were a pair of triangular orange-furred ears, her eyes were a vibrant yellow and trailing out between her legs were no less than nine orange-colored tails.
Isallia had never encountered a race like this before, and was initially curious. This was banished in place of fear when the woman spoke.
“You there!” The woman barked, baring a set of sharp canine fangs. “Come here!”
Isallia did as instructed.
“Are you the new slave the king has bought?” The stern woman asked. Isallia simply nodded, even if she wasn’t this did not seem like the kind of person she would like to see angry.
“Good, the king has promised me that I would have someone of my own who shall do as I say…I am Vuko, but you may address me as mistress.” At this point the maids seeing to the woman stopped their pampering and began to help the satyr instead. Clearly they were not under direct control of Vuko, just instructed to help all the concubines.
“Speak up! Or are you dumb?”
“No, mistress.” Isallia quickly responded.
“Good. And you are obedient to a fault, I like that.” Vuko then picked up a small fruit from a nearby bowl, dropped it into her mouth, swallowed it and then continued. “I am the most powerful person in this castle after the king…and since I have control over his majesties…appetites shall we say that makes me the most powerful person in all of Yndyre. I simply have to ask and the King does whatever I please, that is why you are here before me. So take one step out of line, disobey me for one single second and you will wind up under the headsman’s axe…or worse.”
The elf gulped and nodded.
“Now, as to what I want to DO with you…”
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