Introduction:
Chapter Two — The Final Jewel
King Atheling watched as his mother lifted the lock and quickly slipped out into the hall closing the door behind her. It had been all had imagined it would be . . . and more . . . much, much more. In the beginning, she had been repulsed and shocked by his demands, but in the end, she had capitulated and had even had an orgasm. So there must be some element of arousal and excitement for her, he sickly thought.
Shrugging on his heavy, felt cloak, Atheling stepped over to the heavy, wood door that led out onto his balcony. Turning the cumbrous iron lock, he pushed the door open and stepped out into the blustery afternoon. Snow was falling even heavier now, forming into drifts along the castle wall. Atheling stood watching, looking down into the courtyard, clutching his robe around him tightly. Big, fluffy flakes of snow were dotting the black felt of his cloak, the white starkly contrasting the black material momentarily before they melted. The wind had picked up and now was gathering up the white snow and whirling it around in eddies and swirls. The white snow somehow reminded him of his mother’s pure, white milk. He had never tasted anything so sweet and rich. And he would have more later in the afternoon. He could hardly wait for her to return to his arms. He wanted to go to her and tell her how much he loved her, wanted her to be his queen, but she must have time to come to the realization of the new state of affairs between them. And she must come to him willingly. He was the king, after all.
Finally, Atheling grew cold and tired of watching the swirling snow and stepped back inside the warmth of his chambers. Closing the door, he hurriedly walked over to the roaring fire and held his hands out to warm them. After a few moments, he tossed a couple more logs on the fire, then refilled his goblet and rang for his valet.
His valet, Anton must have been reading his mind as he shortly appeared with a heaping plate of food. Thanking him, the king dismissed him and sat down to gorge himself on the meat and bread. Must rebuild my strength, he told himself. The morning of fucking had burned off much energy and he would need even more when his mother returned in the afternoon.
The plate was soon empty as was the jug of wine he had been working on all morning. But that wasn’t a problem as thoughtful Anton had brought a second jug with his meal. Shuffling back over to his jewel-encrusted chair in front of the fire place, he sat down. As he sat watching the flames lick at the logs, his thoughts drifted back to the morning and his mother. Would she ever come to love him as he loved her, he wondered? Only time would tell, he sleepily thought. The food, the wine and the warmth of the fire soon took its toll on him and he found himself nodding off to sleep . . .
He was woke by a soft tapping on his door. Looking out the loophole, he could see that the shadows had lengthened and that it was mid-afternoon. Pushing up out of his chair, he slowly walked over to the door. As he did, his big, limp prick flopped about lifelessly, but he knew that it wouldn’t be limp for long as he pictured his naked mother standing before him, waiting for his next command.
Opening the door, he saw his mother standing in the hall waiting for him. She was wearing a long, flowing robe of black velvet. The opening running down the front of the robe was trimmed in black satin and she had it clenched in her fist holding it closed as she stepped into his chambers. She quickly stepped over to the fire and stood in front of it facing him as he quickly closed the door behind him. He saw her eyes dart down to his dangling penis as he strolled over to where she stood watching him. Her clenched fist slowly released its hold on her robe and the king caught a glimpse of bare skin through the opening as it parted ever so slightly. At her neck, there was a large, satin bow which apparently held her gown closed as she stood with her arms at her sides meekly looking back at him.
Reaching out, he took the ends of the satin bow in his fingers and slowly pulled on them. The bow unraveled in his fingers and her gown went slithering down off her sloped shoulders to fall into a puddle at her feet. She was naked under the robe except for a long strand of shimmering, white pearls. Atheling stood in a fog of arousal as he gazed at her beautiful, naked body. (PIC)
“You are so beautiful, my queen,” Atheling murmured, feasting his eyes on her naked splendor.
“If the king so deems it, then so be it,” she murmured back, demurely dropping her eyes, slowly lowering her hands down under her huge, drooping breasts and cupping them. “I have done as the king ordered and brought milk to quench his thirst.”
Then as he stood gaping down at her quivering breasts, she gave them a gentle squeeze and milk began to ooze out of both big, puffy nipples. Atheling didn’t say a word as he took her by the hand and led her across the room to his rumpled bed.
Leaning down over the bed, he let go of her hand and quickly crawled up onto the bed. As she stood quizzically watching him, he rolled over onto his back.
“Come, my beautiful queen,” Atheling whispered. “Quench my thirst with your sweet milk.”
“Yes, my Lord,” she mumbled, crawling up onto the bed. Then she lifted a long, lovely leg up into the air and slowly dropped it down on the other side of his body. Straddling him, she slowly leaned down and inched up the bed until her giant, drooping breasts were dangling down just above his waiting lips. Staring up at the beautiful treasures, he felt a hard, swollen nipple brush across his lips. Easing his tongue out, he tickled it across the milk-covered pap. Then, as he opened his mouth, the queen bent her arms and lowered the big, puffy nipple down between his lips.
Pursing his lips around the big, purple nipple, he lifted his hands up to her breast. Wrapping his hands around the huge udder, Atheling began to squeeze and pull on it. Gently at first, he milked her as if she was one of the herd of royal cows brought up from the royal dairy to satisfy his thirst for milk. Her beautiful breasts were so large, they even reminded him of a milk-laden udder of one of the docile cows.
As he milked her, warm milk began to squirt out into his mouth covering his tongue with its frothy sweetness. Her milk, rich and thick even reminded him of cow’s milk, except her milk was much sweeter.
Then, as he sucked the sweet elixir from her breast, he raised his knee up into the air underneath her. Raising his leg, running his knee along her soft, smooth inner thigh, he worked his knee up until he found the hot, oozing hole between her spread legs. Still sucking and pulling on her dangling tit, he began to gently rub his knee back and forth across her pussy. As he did, he felt her begin to grind herself down against his knee, coating it with the hot, sticky juices flowing out of her ripe pussy.
The air around them reeked with the pungent bouquet of the thick, rich juices pouring out of her pussy. There was so much of the sticky goo flowing out of her, it was running down off his knee and trickling down his hairy leg.
Finally, the flow of milk from her dangling breast began to dry up. Deciding to save the other breast for later, he let go of the drained nipple and gently pushed it away from his mouth. As he did, she moved to the side, swinging her other giant breast over his mouth.
“My thirst for your sweet milk is quenched for the moment,” he mumbled out through his foam-covered lips and then ran his tongue around them to lick away the frothy white foam.
He watched as her giant tits bobbled and shook when he dropped his leg back down on the bed and she pushed up onto her knees.
“Tis time for an afternoon ride, my queen,” he grinned, reaching down through her legs to his fully hardened penis.
“My Lord?” she asked, a puzzled look on her pretty face.
“Your steed awaits thee,” he said, lifting his rock-hard cock up into the air just behind her butt as she sat on his belly looking at him.
“My Lord?” she asked again.
“Surely you rode the King’s steed before,” Atheling mocked her.
Turning, she looked over her shoulder down at his jutting prick as he held it.
“Never, my Lord, never,” she mumbled, her face turning bright red as she turned to face him again. “The king, he, he always, he always . . .”
“Your new king wishes for you to ride his steed,” Atheling sneered up at her. “Don’t you want to please your new king and ride his big cock?”
“It, it seems such a, a coarse and vulgar way to, to . . .” she complained. “Maybe something a dairy maid might do. But not a queen. That is below a queen’s station . . .”
“Come, my queen, I am growing weary of your endless protests. They are becoming rather boorish . . .”
“But, my king . . .” she feebly whined.
“Mount your steed,” he told her, anger creeping into his voice as he reached out and ran his fingers over her quivering breasts. “There is no one here to witness your whorish behavior, so I won’t tell you again—mount your steed.”
Grabbing her around the waist, he roughly shoved her backwards until her hot, oozing cunt was resting atop his big, hard cock.
“My Lord . . .” she whimpered, “please . . .”
“Mount it,” he snarled, digging his fingers into her waist and lifting her up into the air.
Then as she stood on her knees, her pussy hovering above his cock, he thrust his hand down and grabbed hold of his cock again. Jerking it up into the air, he began to push her down with his other hand. Feeling the head of his cock brush up against the soft, giving flesh between her legs, he quickly rubbed it back and forth several times to coat it with slippery juices oozing out of her.
“My, my, the queen’s cunt is so wet and so slippery. The king thinks that maybe the queen’s protestations might be only to deceive the king when she really does want to ride the king’s steed,” he snarled at her.
Then he felt the head of his cock find the slippery opening of her vagina and slip inside. As it did, he let go of his cock and wrapped both hands around her narrow waist. Frowning, she had her eyes clenched shut as Atheling forced her down onto his jutting cock. She was so wet and slippery, Atheling’s big cock quickly slid up into her all the way to the hilt.
“Now ride your mount, my queen,” Atheling grunted out, digging his fingers into her waist and lifting her hot, clutching pussy up the shaft of his embedded cock. Then, when only the head of his cock remained inside her, he forced her back down, making her take his whole cock back inside the fiery core of her cunt.
Grunting, he began to push and pull on her, making her slide her hot pussy up and down his jutting peter. As he did, she leaned forward and rested her hands on his shoulders. Atheling could see the muscles in her legs beginning to work as she began to fuck herself back at him. As he slowly released his hold on her waist, he watched her fat, bloated pussy lips wetly clinging to his cock as it slid in and out of her. Then he lifted his eyes up to her bobbling breasts as they heavily floundered up and down above his chest. Milk was oozing out of them and being flung everywhere as her big, puffy nipples flicked up and down. Reaching up, he grabbed hold of the floundering giants and pinched the big, puffy nipples between his fingers and thumbs. Squeezing and twisting them, he forced out tiny stream of her pure, white milk.
The queen’s ass continued to bob up and down as she slid her pussy up and down his juice-smeared peter. With his mouth open, Atheling tried to catch some of the sweet milk as it squirted out of her big, dangling breasts. Most of the sweet, white milk missed his mouth and his face was soon covered with tiny white droplets.
After a few moments. a her smooth, flawless skin was covered with a glistening sheen of sweat and Atheling saw that she was quickly tiring as she humped her cunt up and down his upthrust cock. The up and down movement of her hips was slowing and becoming jerky and erratic, but she wouldn’t relent, fighting on to hide any weakness from him.
Finally, Atheling let go of her floundering tits and wrapped his milk-splattered hands around her tiny waist again. Squeezing her waist, he lifted her up off his cock. As he did, he heard his drenched penis wetly slap down against his belly.
The queen’s eyes fluttered open as she stared down at him in a daze. Pushing on her, he rolled with her and gently rolled her over onto her back with him lying on his belly between her long legs.
As she lay looking up at him with a lost look in her soulful, brown eyes, Atheling reached down and fitted his penis back into the hot, wet gash between her legs.
“Did the queen like her ride,” Atheling grunted out, lunging forward and burying his cock back inside her tight, hot pussy.
“Yes, my Sire,” she mumbled, looking up into his eyes. “But it is so tiring . . .”
“What? You would have your king do all the work all the time? That hardly seems fair, my queen . . .” Atheling sneered at her as he began to fuck her with deep, thrusting strokes.
“I will try harder, my king,” she whimpered.
“As with anything,” he smirked down at her, “horseback riding requires practice if one is to become skilled at it, my queen. And I will ensure that you have ample opportunity to practice it . . .”
“If the king so declares it, the queen will comply,” she said, meekly staring back up into his eyes as he fucked her.
Atheling noticed a subtle difference in his mother from the morning. There seemed to be an air of submission about her that hadn’t been there earlier. Maybe she was finally accepting her new role as his queen . . . and his lover. .
But there was one last way to test her fealty, he sickly thought as he pounded away at her pussy . . .
Her eyes slowly closed as she raised her hands up to his hips and grasped hold of him. Then she clutched his hips and began to gently, but insistently push and pull on him, guiding him, coaxing him to fuck her faster.
Complying with her urging, he worked his hips back and forth faster and with more energy as she humped herself back up at his pounding attack. Atheling could feel the muscles encircling the tight opening of her vagina clutching at his cock as it slithered in and out of the fiery core of her cunt.
Her whole body was rocking from the force of the blows Atheling was raining down on her as her giant tits sloshed up and down slinging white, warm milk everywhere. The milk-laden giants were so big, they were slapping up against her chin as drops of milk splattered up, spotting her grimaced face with drops of milk.
“Oh . . . my king . . .” she whispered as her body suddenly stiffened and she thrust herself up against him.
Sensing her finish, Atheling thrust his cock up into her spasming cunt as deep as it would go. Pausing in his barbaric attack on her, he let her ride out her orgasm as her pussy clutched and grabbed at his embedded penis. Maybe she wasn’t as innocent and betrayed as she pretended to be, Atheling sickly thought. At last, the spasms working through her vagina began to weaken as her arched back straightened and slowly dropped back down onto the bed.
Her legs which had been brushing against his hips earlier dropped away as she splayed them out to the side opening herself to him for the final stage of his assault on her fertile vagina.
Had he been successful in planting his seed in her womb earlier, he sickly wondered as he began to rock his hips back and forth once again. Or would this be the time. The time to flood her womb with his potent seed-filled cum and plant the seed that would eventually become his heir.
Soon, he was fucking her with such ferocity, her whole body was pitching up and down, her big tits once again sloshing up and down spraying everything with warm, sticky milk. Atheling’s chest and face were speckled with white droplets of milk as he felt the burn begin down inside his flopping balls. His ass was working back and forth faster and faster as he ruthlessly fucked her and prepared to launch another massive load of cum down into her hungry cunt.
Then, the fireball burst and sent a giant gush of fiery cum spewing up through his jerking, twitching cock and out into her. Holding himself thrust deep inside the chamber of her cunt, Atheling filled her womb with his potency. Over and over again, his cock lurched and spurted as more and more cum spewed out into her until there was none left to give her.
As he pulled out of her and rolled over onto the bed, he saw that her cheeks were stained with tears.
“If the King is finished with his Queen, may I go?” she murmured.
“Yes,” he sneered back at her. “The King is finished with his Queen . . . for today . . .”
Atheling watched his mother’s beautiful ass twitch and ripple as she stepped across the room to where her gown lay in a rumpled pile in front of the fire place. Tomorrow, he sickly thought. Tomorrow, he would claim that, too. Claim the final treasure that she possessed. Claim it for his own . . .
Oblivious to her son’s demented plans, Queen Ides quickly wrapped the robe around herself and slipped out of his chambers . . .
The next day, it was after noon before Atheling had finished his kingly duties and headed down for the kitchen. As he stepped into the steamy heat, he saw that there were three young kitchen maids and one surly, old cook going about preparing for the evening meal. All four of the women curtsied his way before turning back to their work. Choosing one of the buxom young wenches, he stepped over to her.
“The king has need of a cup of lard, lass,” Atheling told her, admiring the swell of her more than ample bosom.
“Yes, my Lord,” the pretty, young woman told him, hurrying over to a large vat that sat by the roaring fireplace. Ladling out a gob of the grease the vat contained, she deposited it into a cup and hurried back over to where Atheling stood watching her.
“Your lard, my Lord,” she giggled softly, handing him the cup.
As Atheling took the cup from her, he reached out with his other hand and eased it down under the neckline of her peasant blouse. Cupping her substantial udder in his hand he lifted it out into the open.
The young woman didn’t say a word and just stood looking down at her breast as Atheling softly fondled it.
The other two kitchen maids were standing by the fireplace watching and giggling as they whispered back and forth between them while the old cook just stood scowling at him.
Pinching and rubbing the big, puffy nipple between his finger and thumb, Atheling felt it hardening and swelling.
“Perhaps the king shall have a use for this one day, my pretty,” he grinned, roughly tweaking her puffy nipple.
“Yes, my Lord, it yearns for the king’s touch,” she softly whispered, gently thrusting her breast against his teasing fingers.
“But alas, not today, for the king has other pressing business to attend to,” he told her, gently easing his hand out from under her heavy breast and letting it slip back down into the bodice of her dress. “But one day . . .”
“I await your summons, my Lord,” she said, curtsying.
Atheling turned and quickly departed with his cup of lard in his hand. Stopping by the room where the spinner was busily spinning wool, he told her he needed four cords of wool. The spinner quickly produced the cords and Atheling continued on his journey proceeding straight up to the tower where his and his mother’s chambers were. Quickly slipping into his own chamber, he left off the lard and wool cords before stepping next door to his mother’s chamber.
Knocking on the big, wooden door, he impatiently waited for someone to answer the door. At last, his mother’s handmaiden opened the door. Atheling was amused to find it was the same maiden that had been with his mother on that fateful day that had changed his whole life.
“Come in, my Lord,” the woman said, bowing low before him.
“I have need to speak to the queen,” Atheling told her, sweeping by her as she closed the door behind him.
“She is resting my Lord,” the maiden said, smiling coyly and curtsying once again. “Perhaps I could be of service to the king . . .”
“Your name,” Atheling asked her, pinching her chin between his finger and thumb and lifting it.
“Gretchen, my Lord . . .” she told him, smiling and shyly running her fingers over the bulge jutting out against the front of his britches.
“Gretchen, perhaps I may find a need for you one day,” he smiled, running his fingers over the swell of her rather impressive bosom. “But today, I am in need to speak to the queen. So, if you please, wake her and tell her that I wish to see her.”
“Yes, my Lord,” Gretchen told him, quickly turning and stepping off toward his mother’s sleeping chamber.
Watching the enticing swish of Gretchen’s ample behind as she walked away, Atheling wondered if she knew about him and his mother. After all, the castle was a small one, and the servants seemed to know everything that went on behind the closed doors of the castle. So he assumed that the servants probably knew that he and his mother were guilty of making the creature with two heads.
Waiting impatiently, he strode over to the big, ornate table that sat in the center of the room. Sweeping up the flask that lay there, he quickly filled one of the jewel-encrusted goblets with wine. Taking a swig of the fragrant wine, he found it was his favorite Macedon wine. Sweet, fruity, and potent, he told himself as he took another sip. Maybe his mother knew that it was his favorite and kept it available for him should he come visiting. Maybe she was actually becoming to accept her new role after all. But today, he had plans for her final humiliation. The final debasement to show her where her place was. He would take from her the last of her hidden treasures . . .
While he loved his mother with every fiber of his body, she had to pay, he dementedly thought. Pay for all those years of frustration and pain. She was to blame for she could have come to him and given herself to him. His interest in her as a lover had led him to read many books on the subject of incest. And he knew that incest among royalty wasn’t unheard of. In fact, in some royal families, it was a common practice. While it seemed to take place mainly between brothers and sisters, incest between parents and their children wasn’t unheard of. So, why hadn’t she come to him and given herself to him? So, now she would pay for her tragic mistake . . .
His reverie was abruptly broken as his mother came sleepily shuffling into the room.
“My Lord, Gretchen said me you have need of me?” she mumbled, stepping over to the table and pouring herself a glass of wine.
“Yes, my Lady, I have need of you in my chambers . . . to discuss one more duty I wish for you to perform for me as my new queen.”
“What is that, my Sire?” she asked a puzzled frown on her face as Gretchen stepped back into the room.
“Come with me, and you shall see,” Atheling smirked, looking over at Gretchen and giving her a wink.
Atheling set his empty goblet on the table and took his mother’s hand.
“Come,” he told her, gently pulling her toward the door.
Atheling hurried down the big hallway toward his own chamber as his mother held onto his hand and shuffled along behind him.
Shoving open the huge, wooden door that was covered with ornate ironwork, he pulled her inside and closed the door behind them. Latching the big iron lock on the door, he turned to her and smiled.
Looking over, he saw that Anton as usual had a nice, cheery fire going it in the fireplace to keep the chill off.
“What is it you have need of, my Lord,” his mother asked.
“Go stand in front of the fire and warm yourself, my Queen,” he told her, sweeping his hand in the general direction of the fireplace.
The look on her face grew more puzzled as she shuffled over to the fireplace and stood holding out her hands to warm them.
As she did, Atheling stepped up behind her and reached up to the neck of her dress and began unbuttoning the long row of buttons that ran down the entire length of her long, flowing dress.
Seeming to sense his intent, she didn’t speak or move as his fingers slowly crawled down the back of her dress. Finally, pushing the last button through its hole, Atheling rose back up and slowly pushed her dress down off her sloped shoulders, letting it go sliding down her outstretched arms. Grabbing at it as it slid over her hands, she kept it from falling into the fire as Atheling reached around her and took it from her. Tossing it onto his chair, he reached down and grasped hold of the silk chemise that hid her beautiful body from his hungry eyes. Slowly lifting it up her back, he exposed the sensual curves underneath it as she lifted her arms to let him slip it up and off over her head.
Tossing the chemise on top of her dress, Atheling stepped back and stood admiring the sweep of her long, sensual backside.
“So beautiful . . .” he murmured, stepping back up to her and kneeling down on his knees behind her. Digging his fingers down under the waistband of her red, satin pantaloons, he slowly peeled then down off the swell of her hips to reveal the perfect roundness of her exquisite ass.
Then as he pushed her pantaloons down her long, shapely legs, he leaned forward and gently placed a single kiss on each of the cheeks of her sumptuous ass. As she stepped out of her pantaloons and kicked them aside, Atheling reached out to her ass and clutched it in his hands, digging his thumbs down into the soft, pliant flesh. Then, he slowly spread the firm cheeks of her ass apart and slowly ran his tongue up the crack of her ass and across the pucker of her tiny, pink asshole.
“No . . . No, my Lord . . . please . . . please don’t touch me there . . .” she begged, trying to move away from his insistent tongue but finding herself blocked by the fire.
But Atheling would not relent and kept the tip of his tongue probing the intimate secrecy of her puckered asshole.
“Please, my Lord, please,” she pleaded, reaching around behind her trying to push his hands away as she wriggled and writhed trying to escape his hold on her ass. Finally, Atheling leaned back and released his hold on her quivering ass. Pushing up to his feet, Atheling, grabbed hold of her hand and drug her across the room, swiping up the wool cords as he went by the table.
“What? What are you going to do, my Lord?” she asked, her voice quavering as he led her up to the foot of his king-sized bed.
“You’ll see,” he smirked, tossing the ropes on the bed and grabbing one of her wrists.
“No . . . please, my Lord, not this . . .” she cried as Atheling grabbed one of the cords and quickly wrapped it around her wrist and tied it. Then, as she stood whimpering, he jerked her hand over to one of the four posters on the bed and looped the cord around the post. Quickly knotting the cord, he secured her hand and wrist to the bed, then quickly stepped around behind her to the other side. Taking hold of her other wrist, he looped the cord around it and jerked a knot in it. Then, pulling on her arm, he spread her arms apart and hastily attached her wrist to the other bed post.
Now she stood, bent at the waist, her big tits resting on the bed as Atheling grabbed up another cord and knelt down beside her leg. Taking hold of her by the ankle, he pulled her legs apart and tugged her foot over to the foot of the post that her wrist was secured to.
“No . . . No . . . Please, my Sire . . .” she begged as he roughly tied her ankle to the post.
Grabbing up the last cord, Atheling walked around behind her to her other side. Kneeling down beside her leg, he grabbed it and slowly pulled on it, spreading her legs apart almost as wide as they would go.
“Please—please—Atheling—don’t do this—I’m begging you—” she cried as Atheling roughly attached her ankle to the bed with the cord. “Atheling, my son, please don’t do this thing. For God’s sake, I’m your Mother . . .”
“But you are also my Queen, my Lady, and it is your sworn duty to please your king . . .” he grunted, getting up and standing behind her.
As she lay sobbing on the bed, Atheling quickly disrobed behind her, letting his clothes fall where they would on the cold, stone floor.
“You have such a beautiful ass, my Queen,” Atheling said, gently running his fingertips over the quivering firmness of the smooth, flawless skin. “It would be such a shame not to partake of it . . .”
“Oh, No, not there,” she gasped, trying to shrink away from him but finding herself trapped and unable to move away. “Anywhere . . . anything, but that, please, my Lord, please . . .”
“Did you ever allow Father to visit you through your delightful rear entrance, my Queen?” he asked her, slowly plodding over to the table and picking up the cup of lard.
“No—Never—No man ever—” she defiantly spat out. “Your father was a king . . . and a man—he didn’t have to stoop to buggering women.”
“What a doddering, old fool,” Atheling snickered. “Having such a precious treasure at his fingertips and never partaking of it. Such a fool . . .”
“Don’t do this, Atheling, please, I’ll do anything you ask, but not this,” she pleaded as Atheling stepped back over to her.
Ignoring her protestations, Atheling dug a long finger down into the lard and drug out of big gob of the slippery goop. Reaching out to her exposed and vulnerable ass, Atheling gently spread the cheeks apart with the fingers of his other hand as he raised the big gob of lard up to the puckered, pink opening of her asshole.
“Please don’t, Atheling,” she pleaded, trying to wince away from his finger but finding herself helplessly bound to the bed.
Pushing his finger down into the tight clench of her asshole, Atheling slowly rotated his finger first one way and then the other way to coat the opening with the thick, clinging lard.
“No—No—No—” she cried, trying to evade his insistent finger.
“Don’t fight so, my Queen,” Atheling told her. “I’ve heard that some women can even come this way . . . perhaps you are one of those lucky ones. And I truly hope you are, because this is only the first time, my Love . . .”
Finally, Atheling slowly pulled his finger out of her hot, clinging asshole as it quickly clenched shut. Smiling maliciously, Atheling dug his fingers back down into the lard and pulled out another big gob of the slippery goo. Admiring his mother’s beautiful ass with its glistening, puckered center, he quickly smeared the slippery gunk all over his rock-hard peter.
Quickly stepping back over to the table, he set the cup down and wiped his hands on one of the linen napkins that lined the table.
“Ready, my Queen?” he asked, quickly striding back over to the bed where she lay waiting for him.
“Please, my King, don’t do this to me . . . Please,” she impotently pleaded.
“If I hadn’t already tacked up my charger, perhaps I would give your ass a reprieve and take your other tight, sweet hole for a ride,” he sneered, stepping up behind her and lifting the rounded tip of his lubed penis up to the glistening pucker of her asshole. “But alas, he is all ready tacked up and ready to take me on the ride of my life. . .”
“Pleeeeaassseeee . . .” she squealed out as Atheling grabbed her by the hips and began to pull her back on his jutting penis at the same time he leaned into her.
Atheling watched the tight ring of wrinkled flesh slowly give way as the head of his dick spread the opening wider and wider.
“Me thinks thou doest protest too much,” Atheling snarled, pulling harder and forcing the head of his cock into the widening opening of her clenched asshole.
At last, with an almost audible pop, the head of his cock overcame the resistance of her tightly clenched asshole and slipped inside her.
“Unnnnhhhhhhh . . .” she groaned out, trying to lunge forward and escape from the painful trespasser that was so rudely invading her virgin ass.
“I’ve never had an ass so tight, my Queen,” Atheling grunted out, forcing the rest of his dick down into the hot, clutching tightness of her ass.
“Bastard!” his mother exclaimed as his hairy belly finally ground up against her ass cheeks.
“Oh, really! I never knew . . . so who was my real father, Mother?” he spitefully asked, thrusting forward and burying his peter even deeper into the once virgin depths of her ass.
“You son-of-a-bitch,” she growled out, still trying to lurch forward and dislodge the painful intruder.
“Now that I can agree with, my bitch of a Queen,” Atheling snickered, easing his penis back down the tight channel of her ass and the lunging forward to bury it back up to the hilt once again.
“Does the bitch like getting fucked in the ass by her son? Her son-of-a-bitch?” he asked her.
“Fuck you,” she snarled, as Atheling began to rock back and forth, attacking her ass with a vengeance.
“No, Mother, dear, it is you that is getting fucked,” Atheling panted, working his ass back and forth at a frantic pace. “In the Ass . . .”
His mother seemed determined not to give him the satisfaction of showing him any display of emotion as he pounded away at her vulnerable, exposed asshole.
“Mother . . . your ass is so, so hot . . . and so, so tight . . .” Atheling insolently sneered out.
Then, as he pumped away at her ass, he reached around her and found her clit with his finger.
“Unhhhhh . . . she groaned out through her pursed lips as Atheling began to roughly flick his finger back and forth across her clit.
Atheling was ripping his big, thick-shafted peter deep into her hot, clutching ass on every teeth-rattling thrust. He could hear his belly lewdly slapping up against the plump cheeks of her beautiful ass every time he drove his cock into the tightly clenched hole between them. The stark white flesh quivered and rippled from the force of the blows he was raining down on her bounteous butt as he continued to hammer away at her ass.
The attack on her clit seemed to be having some effect, he sickly thought as she began to strain against the bonds that held her bound to the bed, trying to thrust herself back at him.
Stopping the frantic attack, Atheling slowly eased his lard-covered penis back out of the strangling tightness of her asshole.
“What? What are you doing?” his mother fearfully asked, her eyes darting everywhere trying to find out what he was up to now.
“Just loosening your bonds a little, so that you may participate in your inauguration with more vigor,” he grinned, bending down and untying the knot on the cord holding one of her trim ankles to the foot of the bed. Loosening its hold on her ankle, he retied the knot and quickly slipped over to the other side and did the same thing there. Now with her ankles more loosely bound, she had the freedom to move back and forth slightly, while remaining bound to the bed.
Standing again, Atheling took hold of his cock and guided it back up to the puckered, pink opening that was peeking out from between the perfect, round cheeks of her ass. Fitting the head of his dick on the center of the fluted circle of darkened flesh, he began to push it back into the opening. His mother seemed to have relaxed somewhat as his peter easily slipped into her asshole and up into her ass.
Atheling curled his hands around her hips and began to pull her back and forth on his big, jutting cock as she rocked herself back and forth, taking him up to the hilt of his cock on every thrust.
“My clit! Rub my clit, rub it hard,” she admonished him through clenched teeth.
Still keeping his hips working back and forth, reveling in the tight clutch of her asshole on his pistoning peter, Atheling reached around her and quickly found her bulging clit once again.
“Like this,” Atheling panted as he began to roughly rub his fingers back and forth across the swollen nub of nerves and flesh.
“Yes! Yes, my Lord, yes, like that . . .” she wheezed, thrusting her ass back at him on every deep, thrusting penetration. “Rub it harder . . . harder . . .”
Unbelievably, Atheling could feel the muscles in his mother’s belly tensing, straining against his hand as he frantically rubbed his fingers back and forth across her clit. Was she going to come? Was she one of the lucky ones who could come that way, too, he wondered as he could see the muscles in her long, sweeping back begin to harden along with the muscles in her long, shapely legs.
“Faster . . .” she panted out.
What did she want, he asked himself. Did she want him to rub her clit faster or fuck her ass faster? Not knowing which, Atheling picked up the pace on both ends, rubbing his fingers back and forth across her clit faster at the same time he pumped his cock in and out of her tight, clutching asshole faster.
Now he could feel the tight, little ring of muscles in his mother’s asshole tightening around his pistoning peter as looked back at him with a deepening frown etching her forehead and grimacing her pretty face.
“Yes . . .Yes . . . Oh, my Lorddddddd . . .” she groaned out as her whole body stiffened and strained back against him.
As she groveled through her orgasm, her asshole began to constrict down around Atheling’s embedded penis so tightly, he was afraid it would slice his cock in two. Then it loosened its hold on his cock for a moment only to tighten back down around it even tighter as the spasms of her climax worked through her asshole, making it constrict and relax over and over again.
The spasms wracking her asshole went on and on for the longest time before they finally stopped. Atheling could feel that the tension of the muscles in her tight, little asshole had weakened as he began to work his cock in and out of it again.
“My Lord . . .” he heard his mother gasp out as she began to thrust her impaled asshole back at him as hard as she could within the constraints of her bonds.
“Was it good? Was it good for you, my Queen?” Atheling panted out, grabbing her hips and jerking her back and forth as he pounded his peter in and out of her.
“Yessss . . . my Lord . . . oh yesssss . . .” she murmured, as the sick sounds of their bodies slapping together filled the chamber once again.
The fireball that was forming down inside Atheling’s royal balls was growing hotter and hotter as the tight clutch of her mother’s asshole worked its magic on his pistoning peter.
“Come . . . my Lord, come . . . come and fill your queen’s ass with your royal seed, my Lord . . .” Queen Ides groaned out, thrusting herself back at his pounding attack.
Hearing his mother’s vulgar appeal triggered a massive explosion of almost overpowering pleasure down inside his cock and balls. As it did, his cock lurched and spewed out a massive load of superheated cum into his mother’s bowels.
“So hot . . .” she gasped, shoving her ass back at him and forcing the head of his prick even deeper into her bowels as it continued to jerk and twitch, spurting out more and more cum into her ass.
“Take it all . . . take all of my cum up your hot ass,” Atheling grunted out as she ground herself back against him.
Finally, after what seemed like hours, Atheling was empty. He had filled his mother’s bowels to the point of overflowing with his massive load of cum. Trying to support himself on his weakened knees, he hoped that he wouldn’t collapse as he slowly backed away from her and eased his softening penis out of her abused asshole. As the head of his prick popped back out of her anus, a dribble of gooey, white cum trickled out of the widely stretched opening.He’d done it, he perversely thought. He had taken the final jewel of his mother’s wondrous treasures. But with the rape and plundering of her booty, he had left her with a jewel of her own. He left her with the knowledge that although painful in the beginning, it would lead to pleasure in the end. And he had promised her that this was only the first time for them . . .

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