Black: King d8-e8

Like his Knights and Rooks, the King had simply watched as his subjects rode forth to fuck and be fucked in return. But unlike his Knight, he was not being—in fact, he could not be—ordered to take the field himself. So as he stepped over to his left as ordered, he was left without a single White piece to take his pleasure from.

But there were ways of releasing the pent-up sexual tension without charging into battle.

“You, there,” he addressed a nearby Pawn. “Could you, perhaps...”

He gestured down at his throbbing erection.

“Of course, my King,” she nodded, and turned around to kneel in front of him. He gripped his shaft in one hand and carefully guided it between her full, dark lips.

Even the lowest-ranked of the Black pieces was skilled in pleasing men, and the Pawn that the King had suborned was no exception. His breathing quickened and deepened into moans as her tongue flicked expertly around the head of his cock.

She did not have to continue her ministrations for long before he blew his load into her mouth with a sigh of satisfaction. Ever the dutiful servant, the Pawn swallowed it down before licking her lips clean.

Ordinarily, the King would have been loath to bring himself to orgasm rather than save it for his enemies, but so well-protected was he that it was unlikely that he would face any in the heart of his own kingdom. “My thanks,” he told his servant, and she nodded in acknowledgment before preparing for the battle once more.