A disturbing dream

Beldan's sleep was fitful, it started well as he collapsed onto his great bed full from the fine food and wine and in good spirits as he envisioned a near future when all he ever desired would be at his finger tips.

Beldan watched from his dream throne as groups of new initiates parading before him. Unlike the tedious boredom of the actual duties, in his dream the initiates were all young women and wore only long translucent veils of gossamer silk when they entered his great hall. As they stood before him each maid opened her robe nervously exposing herself as a indication of her obedience. Among the faces he saw many who he recognized including (of course) the pretty features of both Winlay and her blonde haired companion, as well as the tall thin woman from the High Marches.

In his dream world the women were not limited by reality, Maria Glendal - a younger and firmer Maria - offered herself to The High Priest with a smile that promised a wealth of sensual delights, followed by the youngest daughter of the Earl of Florington whose rose tipped breasts were as tempting now as Beldan remembered seeing them nearly twenty years ago. She had been the first victim to fall to the combination of his good looks, twisted words and power of the office, her trust in him was so strong that even when her father threatened to disown her, she refused to reveal the man who filled her belly with child.

More beautiful initiates passed by in a cloud of obscurity as Beldan remembered how good it had felt to spread the noble teen's thighs after months of careful seduction. Next in line was a full figured woman, older than the others, whose veils hid her face but did nothing to cover the round curves of her figure.

Unlike the other woman who had obediently, if sometimes delightfully reluctantly, slipped the lingerie from their shoulders this initiate refused to expose herself. Laughing at her absurd defiance with a wave of his hand her robes flew from her body torn from her by a burst of his near almighty power. He could now see why she had been hesitant, her belly was stretched from childbirth, and her full breasts sagged from the combined effects of nursing children and years of gravity. Her body was fully exposed, but her face was hidden under a stern mask of white porcelain. Fear flooded into his dream darkening the room and pulling him from the comfort of his regal throne; the power that only moments before had stripped away her silks now was hopelessly beyond his control.

The dream was now a nightmare, Beldan was unable to refuse her beckoning finger; he found himself kneeling at her feet. The faceless woman had become impossibly large - or he had shrunk to a quarter of his former size. She pressed his face between her thighs and a sharp voice commanded him to lick. Even as be filled with shame, his tongue found her slit and tasted the acidic juices that flowed from her. He couldn't breath; the taste of humiliation became stronger as her hips pulsed against his lips but despite his best efforts he could not pull away from the fingers that clenched his hair.

"Good boy." She laughed softly as he lapped at her "I'll make a real man of you yet, far more of a man than your father turned out to be." As he worked her clit with his tongue Beldan tried yet again to peek under the mask that concealed her identity, but as in each of many similar dreams just before he could see clearly her cum flooded his face and he awoke with a start in the predawn light.

His stubby penis was stiff, tenting the sheets that covered his round belly and massive thighs; beads of cold sweat ran from his face into the thick folds of flesh that rested under his chin. His breathing was labored and uneven, even in the dark Beldan found a decanter of brandy with practiced ease and not bothering with the crystal goblet that stood beside the decanter Beldan drank three deep swallows of the strong liquor before returning the nearly empty container to the tray.

The **** hit him like a double broadside from one of the empire's new dreadnaughts and this time his sleep was uninterrupted by dreams. The deep tolling of bells that woke him long after he should have been up for dawn prayers was echoed by an equally loud throbbing in his temples. The combined effects of the nightmare and **** left him feeling shaky and irritable. He could postpone todays interviews, the only good thing about them was the knowledge that he’d get to meet Winlay Grace privately today. Was it worth the rest of the bullshit he'd have to get through to feel her lips one his fingers as she knelt at his feet?