The Baths

The long discussion and audience clings to you like sweat-soaked brocade, constricting your breathing. Damn these fancy clothes! While you were used to wearing them, there had been times in the past were you hated it. You felt back in your childhood, cast into these clothes to look presentable while important decisions were made behind your back. Some of them, about you. And there was no way to control it or influence it or even get to know it before somebody started acting on plans including you. You were the king, Gods be damned, and the least free man in the land! Crown and crest were nothing but shackles of the nobleman.

You walked to the bath, Lord Edwin and Count Davin on your heels, pestering you about consequences here and consequences there, and how everything in the kingdom was going for the worse. The last straw. As if you haven't had enough of that already this morning. The last, goddamn straw! You stop and turn around on your heels, almost making the two older man bump into you. "Now listen. I am the KING, which means I make the decisions, be them wise or not. To enact them and ensure they are implemented wisely is precisely YOUR quarry. If I want to make decisions more wisely, I need information before the fact! I desire a rapport of all my lands by next month, if you cannot summon the courage to come forward with this information yourselves. Or are you purposefully withholding information from your King?"

Mouths agape, they watched and listened. Then, without muttering, buckled, bowed. Half-sincere and mute sounding apologies flowed over their lips while they shuffled backwards. "Prepare reports with your issues in written form and have them delivered to me in the council meeting tomorrow in the afternoon. Dismissed."

More bows, more affirmations. Then they turn and shuffle away. You can hear them start whispering once they are out of sight. For a moment, you listen, then you decide to walk to continue your way to the bath.

The cute servant almost jumps when you enter the bath. Busy with folding towels and putting everything back where it was after cleaning, she turns around and curtsies. "Sarah, prepare me a bath."

"Yes, my Lord." She responds. There is fear in her eyes, but more. Something else. "Will...will your wife be joining you, my liege?" You shake your head. Marissa was busy. Probably until the evening, spending her time elsewhere on whatever plot she was working on. Sarah almost sighs out of relief, curtsies again and begins to prepare the bath. You disrobe, folding up your clothes neatly and placing them on a finely-crafted wooden drawer made for exactly that. Free at last! You look around and notice Sarah stretching for a piece of soap, exposing her legs just a little. You walk up to her and take it yourself. She gasps when she notices you behind her, and blushes even more when she sees you nude. "Does milord require my body again?" she asks huskily, biting on her lip, her eyes fixed on you flaccid cock.

"Disrobe, Sarah, and wash my back."

"Of course, milord."

You enter the bath and sit down, looking at Sarah quickly and almost eagerly shedding her clothes, leaving them were they fall. She stands there in her nude, and lets her hair fall down with no attempt to conceal her breaths or her nether regions. Her hips are wider, her breasts bigger, her hair fuller and her belly rounding. You wonder how she keeps it a secret that she is pregnant with your bastard. You notice a small wet smear on her pussy lips, even. With graceful, sensuous steps she approaches the bath, reaching for soap, brush and sponge.

"Relax, milord" she murmurs as she begins to soap you up, "I will relax you and clean you as it befits a king..."

You catch a glimpse of her flushed face and feel her soft breasts against your back as she washes you, rubbing against you. A small breath escapes her lips as she rinses the soap of off your back, arms and arm pits, careful cupping up the water with her hands and letting it run over you.

"The front, too." Sarah whispers and steps into the bath. Her pussy glitters and pulsates with want and need. Her nipples are firm and erect. She begins to soap you up while you watch her curves, her soft movements and the water droplets and soap smears on her skin. Your dick hardens, and she notices and reddens even more, massaging and cleaning your chest.

"Please stand up. The legs as well, my king." She whispers and looks at you.

You do her the favor, water dripping from your hairy legs, balls and the semi-flaccid cock. She kneels before you into the water and begins to wash your legs slowly, biding her time. Biting her lips, she looks at your hardening cock, then rinses the soap off again and looks up to you. "Would my Lord..."

You just nod, and she blushes crimson, soaping up your balls and slowly massaging them. You can feel her hair and breath against your cock. Sarah licks her lips and takes the tip into her mouth while she massages and washes your pelvis and balls. You groan as you feel the tip of her tongue stroking over the engorged head of your cock. She sucks slightly and keeps going. Soon enough, you are fully clean, and she pinches and cups your balls before rinsing them off and letting go of it.

"If my lord would sit down, this servant could take care of his needs..." she whispers. You do, and she takes your face into both hands, cupping your cheeks. Her hand smell of soap and warm water. She steps back, lets her hands slide over her body, her breasts, her legs, her pussy. A small, translucent sting of her want sticks to her fingers as turns around herself one time. "Do I please you, milord?" You nod.

Her fingers spread her pussy lips wide open. The blond fuzz over her pussy appears freshly trimmed. Slowly, she kneels down and impales herself on your waiting cock. Sarah moans. "So...fulll...you fill your servant girl so good, my King." She wraps her arms around you and gyrates her hips slightly, moaning and enjoying the fullness before moving slightly up and down. The movement causes small ripples, the warm water sloshing about around the two of you. You meet her with trusts, and she groans as you push into her even deeper. You can feel her cervix brushing against the tip of your manhood, and she coos in appreciation.

You grab her ass and hold her close, while she rides you, her tight pussy already vibrating and clamping down rhythmically about you. With a shudder and a yelp she comes, comes, comes. You piston in and out of her, prolonging her orgasm until she returns from her peak, her face flushed and her hair a mess. She presses her lips against yours, against the skin on your shoulder.

"Did I please you, my lord?" she wants to know coyly.

"Very. But I am not done with you yet." She giggles and moves her hips again. You command her to get up and grab the edge of the bath, which she does. Making a fist in her hair, pulling her hair back, you enter her with one hard trust, spearing her nether lips apart. She moans wantonly, and you notice the muscles in her legs shiver. Now you begin the fuck her in earnest, hard, harder, deeper. She angles her hips, and you slap her pert ass. Growling into her ear, you fuck her with abandon for what seems like an eternity. Then, you feel your orgasm welling up, and with a animalistic growl you bite down on her and fuck into her with hard, quick strokes, your cum splattering against the quivering walls of the chambermaids tight and hot pussy. "Leave it in, my king...oh...oh, please, leave it in" she begs, reaching between her legs to stroke herself to another shrieking orgasm. Then, you pull out and clean your cock in the warm water. She does the same with her reddened, abused vagina, and sits back into your lap.