the life and musings of a kinky slut

Enslaved pt 3

~ a story ~

All the dwellings loved him. All the people bent to his will. I wanted to know his scent and taste his flesh. I wanted to bed our ruler.

Cooing to get to inside his dwelling was easy. Cooing to find him just as simple. And, knocking on his door, the warmth inside of me grew without any touch.

He swung his chamber door open angrily, rage filled eyes and a booming voice pushing me back.

“You will take me,” I sang. “Flesh and fuck. You will love me and never get enough.”

His eyes changed, but not in a way I had seen my song produce before. Others in my place might have worried, but I still had my song.

“You are no commoner, no mere quiet girl. Leave me at once before my rage unfurls.”

He sang to me.

He sang to me. And, inside, I wanted to obey him. I wanted nothing more than his love, his affection. But enough of my being knew I should sing on that I did not do as he ordered, did not follow his command.

I sought my thoughts almost lost in my mind, and somehow remembered my words. But even as I sang, it all come together.

“Ruler on high, taste between my thighs.”
“Low and common lady, you do not fase me.”

“You sing to rule them, they love you so. And it is your secret I know.”
“You are my child, my flesh, my blood. That babe I thought cast into the mud.”

“My mother, your lover, her flesh you took. You fiend, you horrible man, you crook.”
“You stupid, petulant, insolent bitch. I had hoped you were thrown in a ditch.”

“Not lucky are you in my fate. I want what is mine, even if late. My birthright your kingdom, your people, your reign. What once you took I shall take again.”
“So simple, so dull, so stupid are you. This little games of yours is through.”

The hood went over my head. I had not heard their footsteps approach. Had not known I’d lost before I even knew what game I was truly playing.

Even in the cold damp cellar, with little to eat and even less light to speak of, occasionally I will find pleasure in my stay. The brave ones come, not believing in the tale spun, and do as I say.

I have my days of freedom, my moments of glee in the countryside. Frolicking in the forest, dipping my toes in the small waterfall of the winding creek. Eating sumptuos meals of the common folk, my ultimate treat.

But he always finds out. And finds me.

And I end up back in my room, back in my chains. All his people, my little toys, all the real enslaved.

Categorised as: Gen Fiction

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One Comment

  1. What an interesting twist that I was not expecting.