Nueleth, the Queen

She walked inside Vaniat tavern, delighted when loud voices quieted down. Her entourage of guards warned her of the wild men inside here, but she didn't pay them any mind. She had experience with them. Her deceased husband a raunchy man. Her guards walked ahead and rough-housed the men, woman, and a gelatine away from a table. It's challenging to tell the gender of gelatine.

She sat down at the cleared table, her eyes focused on the gelatine. It looked small compared to others she'd seen. About the size of a twelve-year-old child. Its exotic body coloured bright purple. It formed a four-fingered hand from its gelatinous substance and waved.

Smiling she thought it must be a young gelatine, waving back at it, she motioned for it to come forward. Nodding when the gelatine pointed at itself. Gelatinous creature bobbed and glided, effortless in its movement on the shoddy floor. Paying no mind to the ruffians whispering and grunting, knowing her guards would deal with it. It stopped next to her.

Reaching forward she touched it. Thick, cold and she squeezed, and it felt jelly-like. The creature formed its second hand without fingers, and she couldn't stop smiling when it imitated her. She patted its head and motioned for it to leave.

It left her feeling amazed. It stood a few meters away from her, and its hand still held her wrist. It shifted, turning more watery and flowed from her wrist down to her hand and between her fingers until it dropped. It then disappeared, fast but slow enough for her to see it melt back inside the gelatine.

It waved again and left, gliding through the crowd, its body turning smaller and slimmer to fit through the tight-packed room.

"Amazing," she said, her gentle voice a mere whisper in the midst of talking.

"Isn't it?"

Mikason sat down on the opposite side of her, taking a sip and sighing. "That's good stuff."

Mikason, a horrible man but a fierce knight and commander of her entourage. Stories of him butchering his enemies still floated around in her kingdom. And his face disturbed her. An ugly scar ran from his right eye down to his jaw, and it horrified her.

"The gelatine," Mikason said. "They are wondrous creatures, aren't they?"

She agreed. "Where did they come from?"

Nobody knew, and she read plentiful of stories and researched books. Should have burned those books. How could a woman get pregnant from water and give birth to a creature like gelatines? Never mind the one where the gelatine are reincarnated gods.

“I believe no one knows, though, there are theories,” he said. “I think that some ancient sorcerer that dabbled in the arts of mystical creation made them. Accident or on purpose.”

"No! Our god Kazhume created them!"

Mikason scowled, finished his drink and stood up.

The way his scar became more prominent when he flushed crimson with anger. He strode away from the table, and she winced hearing the cracking of a bone and a pained scream. Cult worshipers of Kazhume deserved the worst. Mikason stood over the worshiper shaking, and the worshiper laid on the floor crying and holding his broken arm. Mikason's fist lashed forward, and she heard the sharp crack of nose and saw him pass out.

“What are you looking at?!" Mikason shouted. "Throw this trash pile out!"

Giggling when Mikason winked at her, and his underlings picked up the pace and hurried to throw the worshiper out. Oh, how she hated coming here sometimes but it's something she's learned to do since she became a Queen. Her husband taught her that people would love her more when she showed herself, walked the streets, visited merchants and others.

"Milady," a voice she heard, a young man's voice.

Turning her head, she observed one of her guards blocking her view of a young man who kept repeating her name.

“Let him through,” she said.

The guard looked back, eyebrow raised, he turned back and stepped to the side. Eugh. A peasant. Ignorant, dumb and filthy people but she didn't hate them. She recognised the labour work they did. And it's good they worked for low wages and didn't know to demand more.

He looked much better than other peasants she'd seen. Cleaner and even his dark brown although messy looked washed. Curling her lip, she felt disgusted by his dirty white shirt, and his beige shorts ripped and dirty. His dirty feet disgusted her, but she had to give him props for the muscles he had from hard-work, washed hair and clean-looking face.

Recognising the fan adoration in his bright green eyes that she noticed in most citizens of her kingdom. Looking him over again and noticed what she didn't see before. It caused her eyes to widen, and she would have gasped if it weren't for her tight control of emotions.

Her husband had walked with a bulge around, and she got used to it. But to have a peasant walk up to her with a noticeable bulge. It's different, and she could have made a scene about this and had him thrown out. Deciding not to, she kept silent wanting to hear what this peasant boy with a bulge had to say.

"Milady," he said, breathless and excited.

His hot breath smelled worse than her dog, and she changed to an emotionless mask. “Yes?”

He plopped down on a seat next to her. A guard behind her coughed. How brazen must this boy be, he shouldn't have sat down where a royalty sat. If he wanted to, he should've asked for permission beforehand. Shaking her head, she saw Mikason whispering to another, and both chuckled. Whispers circled in the crowd, and she heard some, most of it about the boy next to her.

The boy leant forward, his elbows on the table, and she felt dumb leaning forward too as if he were sharing a secret.

“I need gold,” he said, “to support my family.”

The peasants came and asked for gold now and then. It's to help families, start up a business that dries out in a week or buy tools that are needed. Despite her hard attitude towards the peasants they were still her loyal subjects and worked labour. And she knew her council, nobles, and rich folks wouldn't do manual labour.

She nodded. She motioned for a guard to come close. "Get this boy home and look at how well off his family is and report back," she said, whispering in his ear.

"Stand up, boy," the guard ordered. "And take me to your home."

Ominous, she thought, watching the boy stand up on shaking legs, noticed the fear in his eyes and the paling of skin. Her voice soft she told the boy she needed to know that his family needed the support. The boy nodded, accepted her reasoning and led the guard out the tavern. Observing them leave she decided to exit too. Annoyed with the return of annoying loud voices and disgusting tales once the folks inside Vaniat noticed she didn't plan to leave. She saw a couple of punches thrown on the other side of the room even.

Standing up, turned and she left for the exit. A circle of guards formed around her, one spot she noticed remained free and she saw him speaking with the Vaniat owner. Chuckling, she saw Mikason turn around and head towards him.

“Hey, watch it, pretentious ass!”

"Piss off!"

She felt a tight squeeze of her buttocks rumpling her dress and turned not before she felt a quick slap there. Her yelp sent the place into a frenzied chaos. Screaming and shouting exploded around. Her guards jumped into action. They pushed the men further away from her and others dragged and held the insane laughing adventurer to a table.

Mikason hurried over, shouting and screaming, furious and demanding to know what happened. His underlings told him. Watching it all, her olive cheeks crimson red with fury, her buttock stung and her arms shook

“Cut his filthy hand off and feed it to starving dogs!” she said, her voice thunderous.

Tightening in her stomach, not now, she thought. The heat between her thighs and she cursed the crazy witch and her last breath curse. Quivering, she squeezed her hands to a fist, an intense urge to rip her dress apart to expose her chest, drop down on her knees and plead for fat and long cocks.

Wet panties clung to her pussy, and her wetness trickled down her thighs. She hurried out of the tavern, stumbling on her feet and her eyes wide. Leaving the inn, she heard Mikason's voice and the agonised scream of a begging man.

Turning away from the tavern she ran down the main street. From here her palace looked so far away, and she doubted she could make it. Citizens stopped and watched her, and she felt her popularity crumble a little. Blushing pink she continued moving on. Further ahead, she noticed the peasant boy from before and her guard.

Why were they still here? She thought. Ah. They were walking, yes, but at a slow pace and kept stopping to look at stalls and various objects there. A thought struck her. Yes! She didn't need to run to her palace.

"My Queen," the guard dropped to a bow once he noticed her.

The peasant bowed, “Milady.”

Focusing on the peasant who's name she didn't know. The two men straightened up. Unabashed she looked at his bulge and glanced at his muscles. Silence, it continued and the voices of others faded. It is her, and his impressive looking bulge. Licking her lips, she kept hearing her name.

Nueleth. Milady. Nueleth.

“What?” she said, her voice sharp.

The guard who's name she didn't care to know flinched, stepped a foot back, his mouth opening and closing.

"Just leave!" she waved him away.

The guard hurried away on shaking feet, disappearing quickly from the view of the public. And the peasant stood there, a quivering leaf, lips trembling and fearing for the worst.

“Boy!” she said. “What is your name and where do you live?”

“Rylath, milady,” he said, stumbling over his words, “and I live over there.”

She tried his name, finding that she liked it and she glanced at the building he pointed. A run-down one-floor house, yellow paint peeling off dark-wood walls and a hole in the roof. Glancing back down at his bulge, she went ahead of him. Moving at a quick pace towards his home, and passing citizens with grace.

“Watch where you're going filth!” she heard behind her a nobles voice.

"Sorry," Rylath said, hurrying up to his queen, and turning around he shouted an apology again.

"You shouldn't have apologized," she said, standing in front of a rotten wooden door. She curled her lip. "This is where you live?"

His answer was positive and snappish. She must've not hidden her distaste well. Oh well, she turned the knob, opening the unlocked door and stepping inside a surprisingly clean room. The stench of sweat, beer and a slight scent of a woman's perfume lingered in the air. The door closed behind her. The furniture looked in good shape, old and dusty.

“What do you--” she said, releasing a pitched shout when he yanked her by the shoulder and found herself in the embrace of a peasant boy. Feeling his bulge against her inner thighs through her dress.

“What was that?” she said after he released her, patting and smoothing her dress

His eyes were wide, and he looked shocked. "There's a loose nail on the floor there."

Looking where he pointed she couldn't see anything. Bending over, her dress riding higher, exposing her thighs, lower backside and she saw it. Turning around, she thanked him, his face flushing red and smiling she thought he must've seen something of her when she bent over.

"You're--you're welcome."

Powerful surging heat spread from inner thighs, from the exact spot where she felt his bulge--no--cock touch. It spread to her feet and toes, to her chest and neck, experiencing intense desire and bliss.

“Fuck!” she spat, she hated that crazy witch. Oh, how she wished to see her execution again. With her husband, her curse seemed easy to control. Now that he's deceased it didn't seem easy and her eyes fixated on Rylath's bulge.

"Is something wrong?" he said.

“No,” she said. A surging wave of heat rippled across her body. Quivering, she thought, what if this peasant boy could help her. “Nothing is wrong. It's all good.”

It looked like he didn't believe her. That's okay she thought. Swaying her hips, she strutted over to him, loving his eyes on her chest and she circled him. Stopping behind him she leant her head forward, her lips inches from his ear she whispered his name.

The boy moaned, his knees shaking.

Exhaling in his ear, she touched his back, a single finger moving down his spine feeling him shake. Taking her finger away she took hold of his firm butt and squeezed his delectable rear.

"Milady...?" he yelped

She shushed him, enjoying the moment, her other hand sneaked under his shorts and below his underwear. Pushing her breasts against his back, she felt him froze gripping his stiff cock. Mouth widening, it felt much thicker than her husbands did. Moving her hand up and down once. An inch or two longer than her husband's.

“That's a hard cock you have there, boy.”

“Uhh, thanks, but what are you doing?” he said.

“Isn't it obvious?” she squeezed his shaft, hearing his soft moan she began moving her hand, stroking the peasant boy's cock. “I'm touching your cock and fondling your butt.”

"Huh-uh," he moaned and thrust his hips forward. “Why?”

Stop with the questions, silly boy, and enjoy what I'm doing. “Because I want to. Do you want me to suck your cock, Rylath?” she said, her hot tongue grazing his neck.

"Yes! Please yes!" he shouted. "Please!"

“No-no,” she shook her head and ordered him to stand still when he bucked his hips forward. She continued to stroke his erect shaft, a finger touching the pre-cum tip and she spread it further along his manhood. “I have a deal.”

"What is it?" he said, his eyes closed tight.

“Imagine a situation where I'm bent over for you, my dress hiked up, and underwear pulled to the side. You're pounding away at my tight pussy with your hard cock,” she said, her voice flirtatious and sensual. Her words affected him. More pre-cum dribbled from his slit, he shook and rocked his hips.

“Oh yes,” he said.

Leaning away when he turned to kiss her. His eyes darkened with lust and a desire to make that imagination come true.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked.

“You have to make me orgasm and scream when we do filthy things,” she said. Shushing him again when he began to say something. “You can't speak of this to anyone. Anyone! And you will listen to every single word that I say. Is that understood?”

“I understand.”

"I will have you beheaded, and your corpse fed to dogs if you tell anyone or don't listen to my orders. Is that understood?” she said, harsh and absolute.

“I will make you orgasm and scream,” he said, nodding, it took a moment for him to process what she said. “I will not tell anyone, and I will listen to every word that you say and obey them.”

“Can you...?”

Someone who's embarrassed, awkward and afraid wouldn't be much of a hopeful fuck toy. She would have to train him out of that, make him more confident or hope that he becomes more confident with the next following minutes.

She didn't know what he wanted. But she knew what she wanted. “You want me, your queen, to get on my knees and take your cock in my mouth and suck it?”

“Huh-uh.”

Disappointed with his answer but it is one. She knelt before the peasant, taking hold both sides of his shorts and she pulled them down along with his underwear. His shaft bounced up and to the side. Licking her lips, she held it in her hand again.

"You're not a boy, are you?" she said, leaning forward, her long tongue brushed the glans of his cock. "You're a man with that, and I can't wait to taste it in my mouth."

Wondering where his previous excitement and promises of making her come disappeared. She didn't wonder for long. His cock looked too enticing as it dangled in front of her face. Parting her lips, she took his glistening crown in her mouth. Hearing a man moan above her brought back memories of her deceased husband. Curse her husband! She didn't want to think of him now.

Swallowing and working her tongue, licking the underside before flicking the slit and gliding her tongue with a circular motion around the head. Gripping the base of his shaft she rotated her hand, moving it back and forth from base to middle.

Humming on his cock, another hand below her dress, she moved her fingers under her soaked panties. Wetting her hand and she parted her nether lips. Working a finger inside her tight cunt, she moaned on his solid erection. Looking up, her eyes dilated, and a wanting for cock shone in them, and she took more of his cock in her mouth.

Loving the control she had over him and the power to make a man shake on his feet. His eyes were wide, lips parted and his breathing laboured. Moving her hand from his cock to his unshaven testicles. Caressing his balls, she leant forward, her mouth expanding as she took more of his rigid appendage,

Remembering doing this to her husband and now she would do this to a peasant. Pushing past her gag reflex she took his cock in her throat. Two fingers rocked back and forth inside her dripping wet pussy, and her tongue lapped the underside base of his erection.

"Oh," he grunted, his breathing hot and heavy "Fuck! That's good. You're good."

Buzzing with excitement from his small compliment, she pulled her fingers out with a wet slick. Pulling away from his cock, spit dropped from her lips, chin and his cock. Licking her lips, she tasted potatoes, carrot and a touch of salt. Standing up she closed his mouth with a finger.

Observing his heaving chest, she ordered him to take his shirt off. Licking her lips and she ran her hand from his sweating muscled chest to his navel. Turning around, she moved against him, grinding her buttocks up and down against his erection.

“Don't be shy,” she murmured silky soft, grabbing his hands and placed them on her breasts. “Feel.”

“Yes,” she moaned, he did feel, squeezing and kneading her breasts still clothed. Intoxicated by his new-found enthusiasm she turned her head, and she smashed his lips against his. Felt him respond with frenzied eagerness. Pulling away, her tongue brushing his lip and the shine in his eyes showed how thrilled he felt.

Joining her hand with his, she pulled it away from her breast and moved down over her clothed stomach. Between her thighs, she allowed him to touch her drenched panties. “Feel that? That's how wet you've made me.”

He did. The difference between her hand and his is immeasurable. Though experimental his touches were, they made her exhale sharply and quiver.

“Oh...” she repeated in a whisper three times. A sharp jolt of pain inflamed her nerves, and an explosive wave of pleasure overwhelmed her. Her knees shook, her nipple pinched stiff. Apologies in his ear and his attempt at pulling away enraged her. Smashing her thighs together she held his hand down there stuck, juices dripping on his.

“Don't... don't be sorry. That was good.”

Rylath apologised again, but she sighed satisfied when he returned to groping her breast and touching her wetness. Impatient with his gentle touches and slightly annoyed by what seemed no intention to further.

“Rylath,” she said, his name smooth on her tongue. “Tell me. What do you want me to do?”

“I...” he said. “I...”

He sounded like a broken bard. Not that she ever heard one but that's what she imagined one would sound. “Don't be embarrassed, I won't think ill of you,” she said. Her thoughts vivid and, bestial and she pondered what he would request of her. “Come on. Don't be shy, Rylath, do you want me to take my dirty panties off and spread my legs for you?”

Squeezing her thighs around his length she heard him murmur, and she didn't understand what he said. “What is it that you want of me?”

“I want you to get on all fours and stick your butt out,” he said in a quick breath.

Oh? She thought. Glancing down at the floor and the nail she almost stepped in she decided not to. Looking the dresser over she decided yes.

Releasing both his hands she stepped away, turning around she pecked his cheek and turned around again. Remembering his dumb-struck look. Hips swaying she strode further inside the room from the entrance.

Stepping in front of his dresser, she shimmied her panties down to her ankles, pulled her dress above her waist. Placed her hands on his dresser and leant over with her breasts hovering a couple of inches above it. Pushed her buttocks out, her feet spread wide as her underwear let her and she turned her head.

“Rylath... come on,” she whispered, her tongue grazed her bottom lip. Standing there he looked stiff, mouth open, eyes wide and amazed and erection raging hard. Making her butt bounce she moaned. “Rylath... What are you waiting for? Your Queen needs you.”

That sprung him into action, and she watched him pace towards her. His cock bobbing right and left, up and down and he reached her. Moaning, she felt his cock against her buttocks and his hands kneading and squeezing her ass cheeks.

“You can touch me whenever you want,” she murmured, her eyes on his sweating face. “I want your cock inside me.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

A moan of bliss, feeling his cock touch her pussy lips, and her nether lips parted at his prodding. Pushing back, she grunted, feeling his throbbing shaft spreading her tight cunt wider. He didn't stop pushing, she realised, and in seconds she felt stuffed and full. His breath on her neck, she shivered and heard his murmured swears.

“Ah!” she rocked forward, mouth open. Again she bucked forward, her moaning desperate. “More!”

Eyes widening she watched her reflection in a fogged mirror. How she didn't notice this earlier, she didn't know. Her fine dirty-blonde hair clung to her blushed skin glistening with a sheen of sweat, her sky-blue eyes shining bright, her tongue grazing her pink lips.

Bucking back and forth, her buttocks slapping against his hips. In a moment of euphoria, she felt content standing there bent over with an eager peasant railing her cunt behind her with vigorous thrusts. Pulling the top of her dress down, she felt behind for his hand on her buttocks. Gripping his hand, she pulled it forward and onto her naked flesh.

“Oh,” she hummed, her breast squeezed tight and her buttocks kneaded. His fat cock pistoned in and out of where she most craved for relief and want for his warmth.

Groaning, his cock withdrawn, leaving her feeling hollow and empty. Pushing back she hoped it would entice him.

He pushed back inside, her cunt stretching again to accommodate his fat throbbing shaft. “You like that?”

Quivering, breathing on his neck tickled her, and she nodded murmuring that she did like that. Fingers pinched her nipple, and she swore. Feeling him pull out again with a cruel slow pace and he stabbed back inside. She screamed, his unexpected thrust fierce, hard and welcomed. Fuck! Fuck! She thought. Powerful and rapid his thrusts were, and she rocked her hips back and matched his rhythm.

For a moment there she thought she matched him. She didn't. Writhing against him with wild abandon, screaming at him to fuck her harder and sobbing when he slammed his hips against her buttocks, driving his entire length deep into her core.

“As you demand, milady,” he said, breathless, squeezing her naked breast hard and fondling it.

There's no way he could go further than his current pace she thought. Shouting nonsensical words and drool dribbled from her mouth she bucked forward. Losing strength in her arms, her breasts falling flat on the dresser and her chin ached from smacking against the dresser. Her eyes intense and depraved, she felt him slow his thrusting and heard his damned apologies.

“Stop apologising and keep fucking me you damned peasant!” she said, flushed red from blissful arousal and a spark of fury at his slowing.

“Yes ma'am,” he said

Squirming and shaking she closed her eyes shut, her forehead flat on the dresser and enjoyed his hard and rapid thrusts. Gyrating her hips with voluptuous abandon, she revelled the fat erection inside her. “Fuck... that's good.”

His intense rhythmic thrusts changed, and she recognised the impending release. Yes! She twisted and writhed against him. His hands moved to her shoulder and waist and held her. Yes! She thought. His onslaught of relentless pounding of her tight wet depths turned more erratic and wild. Pressing back against him, frantic in her movement and desperate for his hot virile seed.

“Fucking fuck,” he grunted, tightening his hold on her.

Her shoulder ached, and she knew it would bruise. Unexpectedly his fat erection pulsed and she felt his eruption inside her. She sobbed a cry of satisfaction, screaming her throat raw and her buttocks ached from his hard slamming thrusts of climax. She rode the wild cloud of orgasm, his warm seed flooding her core.

Trembling she clenched her muscles and milked his cock raw, his warmth oozing inside her battered cunt. Her juices intermingling with his cum. Shuddering and quaking she felt him withdraw and thrust back inside. Releasing a cute high-pitched yelp, bucking forward and felt more of his ooze spurting inside her.

"Yes," she moaned. “Yes...”

"I love you," he breathed in her hair.

Ignoring what he said and thinking what a way to ruin the moment. Delighting in his sweaty chest against her clothed back she stayed still, his cock shrinking inside her. Inching forward, his cock plopped out, she raised her feet and took off her wet panties. They were ruined.

“Do you want these?” she asked, her panties dangling on her finger.

Giggling she dropped her underwear on his shaking hand, he looked lost, confused but overjoyed with it. Stepping away, she fixed her clothes and smoothed her hair loose from her face. Walking around with a man's seed inside her, her juices and his dribbling down her inner thighs. She felt wicked.

"Wait, where are you going?"

Glancing at his hand squeezing her arm to stop her from leaving. She looked him in the eye. “Home,” she said, and he looked about ready to tear-up. “Oh don't worry, Rylath.”

She went and pecked his lips, squeezing his cock and walked away, swaying her hips. Stopping at the door, she turned her head but didn't look at him. “We'll have plenty of fun together.”

Sensing his eyes on her backside, smiling, and for the first time since she was cursed by that mad witch, she felt satisfied. Her curse content and not a bother. And a slight urge to thank the witch if she weren't dead. Opening the doors, she stepped outside the house into the streets. Hundreds of eyes stared at her, but she ignored them and closed the door behind her.