Dawn walked out of her room a few minutes after the King left. Her womb was practically tingling after the King had pounded her petite frame into her own bed and deposited not one, but two of his loads in her defenseless teen pussy. She had waited a few minutes with her legs curled up against her chest, hoping to give his seed every chance of breeding her.

Once her master’s cum had dried inside her, she finally stood and felt the unfamiliar twinge of a sore, pulverized vagina. Wearing only her gray nightgown she made her way down the harem quarters into the dining hall. The dining hall held two long, wood tables in a high-ceilinged, rectangular room. Fireplaces on each wall kept the room warm, sometimes sweltering in summer months. Dawn took her usual seat at the end of one of the tables and a eunuch brought her a plate. All the harem slave girls were on a rigid diet to keep themselves lean, but healthy, for their King. Dawn’s plate had a bushel of grapes, roasted vegetables from the palace gardens, and a piece of oat bread.

Lady Raquel, who was monitoring the slave girls as they ate breakfast, wandered over to Dawn to inspect her.

“And where were you this morning, 51?” Raquel asked for all to hear. A few of the girls at the next table giggled at her being scolded.

“I… I…” Dawn started to answer.

“You, you…” Raquel retorted, “Yes… you.” Abrielle was a few seats down from Dawn, on the same bench, and leaned over to see the new girl take a ribbing from their mistress.

“I’m sorry, my lady,” Dawn said, “I… the King… visited my chamber before I woke.”

“What is this nonsense,” Lady Raquel said, “51 I asked you why you were late this morning.”

“Yes, madam,” Dawn said, looking down at her plate, “The King woke me this morning and… took his privileges of me, my lady.”

“You say the King entered your chamber this morning, unannounced, and penetrated you this morning?”

“Yes, madam,” Dawn said, “And he named me as well.” By that point everyone in the hall had stopped eating to listen in to the news of the King fucking young 51. Raquel looked aghast, and Abrielle was fuming.

“Well what is it then, girl?” Raquel said, “What is your name now?”

“Dawn, my lady,” she answered.

“Very well then,” Raquel said, “Then if you were just enjoyed by your master, you ought to proceed to the recovery room, hadn’t you?”

“Yes, madam,” Dawn said.

53, who had taken the King in her ass the day before, was sitting at the next table and could not help but shout out a question, “Where did he cum??” The hall burst into laughter and howls. Once they had subsided, Dawn, flush with embarrassment, piped up.

“In my womb…” Dawn said, “…twice.”

Lady Raquel snapped her fingers after a few seconds of roars from the other girls. Abrielle stood up and slammed her fists on the table, shaking her plate and goblet in the process. Although many noticed Abrielle’s anger, the scene had been muffled by the cat-calls and whispers. Raquel was no longer interested in controlling Abrielle, she was first among the slave girls after all.

Abrielle, wearing her purple silk nightgown, stormed out of the dining hall. A eunuch took Dawn’s plate and escorted her to the recovery room while Lady Raquel gave every girl still assembled a scathing stare.

“Really!” Raquel said, “Contain yourselves or I will turn you over to the barracks!” The girls immediately fell silent, being turned over to the barracks was being thrown to the wolves. Every soldier garrisoned at the palace would have you before you were released, if you were released at all.

“My lady,” a eunuch said behind Raquel, tentatively. She turned and snapped at him.

“What?!?”

“My lady you are summoned to the training rooms,” the eunuch said, “54 completed her training last night.” Raquel rolled her eyes.

“Goodness,” Raquel said, “As if he needs another one! I can barely keep the ones he has from scratching each other’s eyes out.”

* * *

That evening, just before supper, Abrielle stood in her chamber inspecting her outfit. She knew this was her only chance to get back in the King’s favor. He had bred two girls in three days despite choosing her to have his next child, if she was not careful he would impregnate 51… Dawn… and a prisoner before her. She would know if she missed her monthly tide in less than a fortnight.

Abrielle wore a red, silk, and lacy gown that barely covered the front of her breasts and left the tops and sides exposed, a single piece of red cloth peaked from the top of her nipples and circles around her neck to keep the gown on her lithe form.

Her back and sides were exposed, a piece of fabric as thick as her hand trailed up her stomach leaving most of the front of her taut abdomen bare. The fabric along her abdomen was sheer lace, revealing the contours of flesh beneath it. The dress returned to opaque silk just above her smooth mound and a slit came up her entire right leg before transitioning into the same sheer material above her hip, revealing for all to see that she was banned from underwear. The rest of the gown flowed freely to just above her knees. It was not tight along her legs, which was necessary for her plan.

The ensemble was finished off not by the standard slave boots, but by a pair of black, leather ankle boots. She had acquired them from a noble lady as a gift for information about the ladies-in-waiting to the queen, minor gossip spying really, and had saved them for a special occasion.

Without being summoned, Abrielle left her chamber and exited the harem halls. Free movement of the palace was a privilege afforded to her after many years of loyally servicing her master. After climbing the many steps up to the King’s Tower she knocked on the door of his study. The sun was not quite setting yet, his supper would be delivered soon and he almost never summoned a girl to fuck before he took his evening meal.

“Enter,” the King said behind his study door. Abrielle moved the handle and pushed the door open. The King looked up at her, then realizing the oddity of the situation focused his gaze on her.

“Did I summon you?” The King asked as Abrielle swayed over to him.

“No, your Grace,” Abrielle said as she propped her firm butt on the side of his desk. He had fucked her on countless occasions bent over that desk, but that night would be different.

“Then why are you here, girl?” the King asked. Abrielle scooted herself along until her body was directly in front of her owner.

“I realized I have not been a good pet for you, master,” Abrielle said, “I have questioned you and grown jealous of your favor toward others, I have been envious of the other girls you have cum inside of this past week.”

Abrielle adjusted her dress for his viewing pleasure before continuing. To her surprise, he did not interrupt her.

“I am sorry, master,” Abrielle said, looking down at the floor meekly, “And I need you to punish your slave.”

The King grunted slightly under his breath, while still looking at her. Abrielle dropped to her knees in front of him.

“May I please service you, my King?” Abrielle said, her eyes fixed forward and her tongue resting slightly between her teeth.

“Beg for it, slave,” the King said. “You have broken many rules by being here.”

“I know, master,” Abrielle said, scooting forward on her knees so her mouth was closer to his crotch. “I have been disobedient. I have been a very bad girl. I want you to teach me a lesson tonight.” Her hands came up to touch the front of his trousers as he sat in his chair.

“Please, master,” Abrielle said, “Please let me suck your cock. I want to please you so much, sir. I want you in my mouth if you’ll let me. Please, master!” The King reached down to grab her by her cheeks in one hand, while his other hand unfastened his pants. He pulled his cock out, it had already hardened, and pointed it at his slave’s youthful face.

“Is this what you want, girl?”

“Yes, master!” Abrielle shouted, “Please let me make it right, please let me have it.”

The King pulled her face forward by her cheeks and then maneuvered his hand through Abrielle’s hair. He pushed her down until his cock was lodged in her throat and her lips were buried in his pubic hair. Abrielle gagged and he did not let up, she kept her hands positioned on her legs. She gagged again, withdrawing a couple inches off his shaft, only to have him press her back down and gag for a third time.

He held Abrielle down, enjoying the sensation of her young throat taking his old cock, and her fourth gag saw a sizeable volume of saliva erupt out of the corners of her lips and onto the King’s shaft. The King let her up for a moment to catch her breath and then pushed her back down until half his prick was buried in her twenty-something mouth. From there he began forcing her up and down, bobbing her head on his royal member.

Abrielle moaned as he used her mouth for his pleasure. The King let out an audible groan of delight whenever his tip pressed against her tonsils and she squirmed underneath him.

After ten minutes of working her face over his cock, the King came to his senses.

“You need to be punished, girl?” the King said, “How shall I teach you your lesson today?” Abrielle stopped and let him come out of her lips with a delightful ‘pop.’ Without another word she stood and turned around, her pert little ass right in front of his face beneath the red silk of her dress.

Abrielle pulled the hem of her red dress up until her cheeks were exposed and then, for his viewing pleasure, slowly bent over his desk. As her firm cheeks came aside, they revealed that Abrielle had inserted a clear glass butt plug into her tight rear.

The King gently put a few fingers on the plug and tickled her young ass crack with his old fingers.

“I see…” the King said. “And what am I to do with this?”

“Whatever you want, master,” Abrielle said, “But I hoped you would fuck my ass tonight.”

“Mmm,” the King grunted. He slowly removed the little plug from his slave’s asshole and put his middle finger in its place, to the hilt. Abrielle’s insides tingled as she now knew her plan would work.

“But I intend to breed you, dear,” the King said.

“Yes, your Grace,” Abrielle said, “But not before putting me in my place – I hope. I remember when you first fucked my ass, sire,” Abrielle said, wagging her firm tail at him, “I imagine your Grace does as well. You did not mean to breed me then!”

The King removed his middle finger from her rectum. “Did you bring the oil with you, pet?”

“No, master,” Abrielle said, “I don’t deserve it. I need you to punish me. I just want to please you. I want you to make me have your baby… but first I want you to use your property, my King. I don’t deserve to have your seed in my womb again until I have pleased you again.”

With that the King stood and, as he had many times before, rubbed his member along Abrielle’s asshole. He had not taken her ass without lube in years, but at least he was covered with her spit. The King pressed forward until the first few inches of his cock were lodged in Abrielle’s ass. Her hands gripped his desk as she prepared to take the hard anal fucking she so richly deserved.

“Yes, master,” Abrielle moaned. “Please use this one’s tight ass.”

The King pushed his whole length into her butt and then pulled out, only to sink back in agonizingly slow. The King gradually fucked her for a few minutes, admiring her lavish shoes, bare and toned legs, and lean body all bent over for his enjoyment.

When he picked up his pace, his hand wrapped through her long hair and pulled her head back. Abrielle moaned in delight as he began to create to what she knew would come.

“You have been disobedient, Abrielle,” the King said, “But it is not your actions that drove me to cum in others. I am getting on in my years and felt a sudden urge to spread my seed. So many mares in my stable, I ought to have them all I think! But only yours will I recognize as royal – fear not. And only you will earn your freedom through me.”

Her insides burst with relief, but Abrielle bit her lip as she regretted not bringing the King’s lubricating oils, the burning sensation in her bowels was consuming her but she knew would be worth it in the long run.

“Yes, master!” she said through gritted teeth, “This slave deserves your punishment still. Please fuck me, my lord. Please cum in this ass you own.”

The King smacked her ass three times and then began truly pummeling her into the desk. He looked down to see the slightest hint of blood smeared over his shaft and knew Abrielle was enduring a hard fuck in the ass for his advantage. The wondered of the little vixen, who he hoped to impregnate, seeking him out to take a brutal fuck sent him over the edge.

The King gripped Abrielle’s hair harder, pulling it back like a rein, and unloaded his cum in her eager, battered asshole.

“Yessssssssss,” Abrielle moaned in delight as her sphincter felt his cock pulse inside her relentlessly. The King’s eyes rolled into the back of his head for a moment and he collapsed back into his chair, pulling Abrielle down with him while he was still lodged in her ass.

Abrielle put her hands on her knees and began riding the royal cock, milking it with her ass while seated. The King laughed in delight and gripped her neck for a moment. Before he could ask, Abrielle stood, turned, and kneeled in front of him to take the royal member back into her mouth.

The King moaned as his favorite slave cleaned his spent cock with her expert tongue and deepthroated him a dozen times. When he was finally clean and satisfied, she tucked him back into his trousers and stood.

“Thank you, master,” Abrielle said, bowing slightly, “May this one return to her chamber?”

“Yes, dear,” the King said, “I shall call for you again soon. We must plant another round of my seed in you.”

“I look forward to it, master,” Abrielle said as she bowed again and turned to leave. Once she was faced away from the King, Abrielle smiled from ear to ear. She would fast for days knowing her little butt would not be the same for week, but her efforts were not wasted and the King’s eye would be back on her – and more importantly her willing, tight pussy – again.

* * *

The Lady Raquel circled 54, inspecting her, while Ayla and others looked on.

The new slave was completely naked, a thick leather collar attached to her neck. She was young and petite, the way the King liked. She had bright red hair in a short pixie cut. She had porcelain white skin, freckles beneath her blue eyes and stood 5’4″. She weighed perhaps six and half stone, ninety pounds or so; this was clear in her lean and toned body… which had been shorn of all hair beneath her eyebrows.

54 had completed her training and was ready to be presented to the King. She had mastered all of the King’s expectations, albeit on props and fellow slaves. Deepthroating and sucking his cock, swallowing his cum, taking him in every conceivable position, how best to use her hands, how speak to the King, and even skills like massage, dance, and flexibility.

She was ready to please her master if he found her attractive at her presentation, if not he would likely send her as a gift to a member of the royal family or a nobleman. A steady stream of fucktoys kept the Kingdom sufficiently loyal.

“How old are you dear?” Raquel asked.

“Eighteen, my lady,” 54 said.

“And we confirmed you are a virgin?” Raquel said looking at Ayla, who nodded.

Raquel sighed. The poor thing before her would soon be at the mercy of the King.