The King's Drink

This story will sometimes evolve with reader feedback. At the end of this chapter, you can vote on which women Borok should aproach and add to the harem in the next chapter.

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I stirred awake from lustful dreams. My nights had all been alike in that regard since I first claimed the sword and its demoness claimed me. I yawned and looked down. Frieda was there, with my massive morning wood buried deep inside her little mouth. She looked up at me with adoring, submissive eyes and suckled on my rod a little harder, just to show her devotion.

It was a pleasant new morning ritual. Every night since I had first claimed this first fuckdoll I tied one end of a short rope around her slender neck and the other end around the base of my massive cock. She was under strict orders to fellate me until I fell asleep, and wake me up in like manner when dawn broke. It had only been a few days, but I had already noticed that the powers bestowed onto me not only included greater strength and virility, but also a lessened need for sleep and recovery. My body seemed to require less of everything, except sex.

I **** one of my grapefruit-sized testicles into the poor ****’s mouth.

“Mfff!” she complained weakly, but I gave her a light slap on the cheek to shut her up.

Her cheeks bulged with the sheer size of my ball as she sucked on it, but she did her best to make me happy.

The change in her had been quite dramatic. Even though she had sobbed quietly through the whole first night, remembering the lifeless body of her father discarded on the floor of the mill, she had made no attempts to escape. I caught her on the second morning holding a knife in her trembling hand. I didn’t try to stop her, but she seemingly couldn’t bring herself to do me any harm. Nevertheless, I still had to punish her for such insolence by **** her asshole and fill her up once again with a barrelfull of cum. Her continued devotion to me, despite her obvious sadness, fear and the lack of bonds or chains of any kind, was quite curious. I had asked the sword about it, but Ishtar had only giggled and told me to “find out for myself”. I wasn’t sure, not yet, but I became more and more certain that the musk and seed produced by my demonic manhood must be hypnotic to women in some way.

I thought idly about this as I **** my massive cock deep inside Frieda’s throat and, despite her pathetic gagging and the tears streaming down her face, deposited my enormous morning cum load directly into her stomach. The slut whimpered and protested, but I simply slammed her face hard against my pelvis and held her there. I groaned with pleasure as I heard my balls gurgling and felt my cock shake as I pissed her stomach full with jet after jet of thick jizz. Her belly stretched and distended as it was filled to the brim. I pulled out and showered her pathetic face with the rest, leaving her completely covered in a layer of sticky white sauce.

I untied her from me and rose with a great big yawn. I placed a large foot on her belly and pressed down, laughing with cruel enjoyment as her eyes went wide with panic. The next moment she burped up a deluge of stinky sperm, quite in the same way as water squeezed from a balloon.

“Clean yourself up, skank, and make me some breakfast”, I ordered.

“Uhh.. Yes, master”, she croaked weakly.

I walked over to the window and looked out over the thick mass of conifers surrounding my new residence and sprawling for miles. One could see far from this place - it was the ideal first outpost of a fledgeling warlord.

Everyone in Knightsfall knew of Gritenheim, the haunted ruin one day’s journey from the town. It was said that once, when the lands hereabouts were still ruled by a cruel baron, the noble had had the keep constructed to awe and frighten his peasants. It was also said, though I doubted this part of the story, that many **** labourers had died in its construction and were now buried underneath its mighty foundations.

These ghastly rumours, nor the suggestion that the old baron still haunted his old halls, was the reason most sensible folk feared going near it. The true terror of Gritenheim was the altgeist, a vampiric beast that had slain many an adventurer over the years. He had made the ruined keep his home two decades ago, and had made easy work of anyone who dared intrude on his lair. That was the case at least until a few days ago, on the night that I had claimed the sword and the **** - when I had arrived and slain the beast. The head of Gritenheim’s terror now adorned the wall above my new mantlepiece.

The state of the keep was rather poor. The upper floors had all collapsed, leaving only the bottom two and most of the turret that still stood in the corner of the fastness. The outer wall, small though it was, was still mostly intact - but needed some repairs before I could feel entirely at ease. It was something I would like to take care of sooner rather than later, but it was a matter for another day. Today I had more important things planned.

I took my breakfast in what was left of the grand hall. The old baron’s table had been smashed into bits many years ago, so I had fashioned a new one. It was rather simple, as you certainly were no carpenter, but it fitted me a bit better. It was rugged and practical, yet large and imposing all the same.

Frieda placed a trencher of thin soup and a chunk of roasted altgeist meat in front of me, then stepped behind my chair to give me a loving backrub while I ate.

The butchered remains of the large vampire had sustained me for the past few days, but the meat would soon go bad, and I craved better food. Frieda, I had noticed, didn’t have much of an appetite. The only thing she craved, other than water, seemed to be my cum. If my seed had the magical attributes needed to entrance the mind, perhaps it could also be magically filling and nutritious. It was too early to say, but Frieda was disposable - she was a good test subject for exploring my new abilities.

“You’ll have to go to the market today, slut”, I informed her between bites.

“Yes, master”, she cooed lightly. “Whatever you wish.”

“Get some cured meats, and some fish if you can manage. And greens and spices too, whatever it takes to make a decent meal. You’re a passing cook, but this altgeist meat tastes like shit.”

“Of course. Should I go to Knightsfall?”

You thought about it for a moment.

“No”, you decided. “People would recognise you. Not that there’s anyone in that wretched place that could threaten me now. Still, I’d rather not deal with whatever nuisance they might send my way. Go to the village south of here. Get some money from the baron’s treasure, gods know he doesn’t need it anymore.”

I instinctively trusted her. Through my newfound powers I felt intuitively, and with great certainty, that she didn’t have it in her to betray my trust. She was bound to me now. The same demonic **** that had kept her by my side and had stopped her from taking that knife to my throat would stop her from taking the money and running, or alerting others of my misdeeds.

I didn’t spend the time without Frieda idly. I cloaked myself in black and made my way back to Knightsfall. Soon I meant to rule over the people here, and to do that I needed followers to do my bidding.

I dismounted Aeglas, my black mare, as the night slowly fell on the town, draping it in its veil of shadows. It was still only suppertime, so there was a great deal of noise coming from the town’s large tavern: The King’s Drink. Now that I thought about it, some food wouldn’t go amiss.

The tavern was lively. The tap room was clogged with people, and the dance hall with its lofty roof and second story balcony was filled with merrymakers singing and dancing. A dozen smells and sounds hit me and stirred up nostalgic memories.

The patrons were mostly local humans, but there were some others there as well. A beautiful snow elf with a mane of black hair and a generous bosom held a crowd of admirers captive at the bar with her flirtatious laughs and smiles.

Three grumpy dwarves sat to themselves, speaking in hushed voices and giving the stink eye to anyone walking too close. A small band of orcs had claimed one of the shadowy corners for themselves and celebrated some recent victory rambunctiously, earning more than a few sharp glances from the sullen barkeep. There were some interesting human guests as well, who didn’t seem much like locals. Two nobles with skin like bronze and dressed in strange colourful garb chatted pleasantly with a local guard captain, with their two nude female slaves standing at attention behind their chairs. You noticed that the slaves’ nipples, clits and belly buttons were pierced with delicate gold jewelry and chained together with fine sparkling chains. Finally, there was also what seemed like a traveling troupe of exotic dancers keeping the guests in the dance hall in their thrall as they snaked their erotic near nude bodies around to the strange tune of eastern pipes.

You had business with none of these people. At least not yet. You were here to see another, one of the few friends you had made since you came to the dreary town years ago. You scanned the room and found him quickly - one could always bet on Zandek spending most of his time and money at the King’s Drink. You walked over and joined him in his booth far in the back, which had a darker and more quiet atmosphere.

“Hey, asshole, who told you you could sit here?” the man growled as I took the seat opposite to him.

I removed my hood.

“Ye gods.. Borok.. Is that you?”

I smirked at him.

“Have you gone blind stalking around the pitch black of the forbidden depths every night, Zan?” I jeered.

He looked shook. Zandek was a small man with pale, sallow skin and sunken, tired eyes. He wore nimble black leather armour and a worn black cloak. A wicked knife hung at his hip. He was a skilled rogue, even though he was quite lazy and seemed to lack all ambition. He regained his composure.

“Hah - dream on. I can hit a noble’s asscrack from fifty yards with a throwing knife. Nothing’s wrong with my eyes. But-”, he said and pointed at you “there’s definitely something different about you.”

“That obvious, is it?” I asked lightly as I flagged down a waitress.

The man cackled.

“I know what you did, Borok. You found the conqueror's blade, didn’t you? I’ve never seen someone lust after a cursed sword like you did these past months.”

I merely smiled and gave a little nod.

The waitress approached the table. Her name was Annike, and something of a local celebrity. Many a young man of Knightsfall had lusted after her to no avail - she didn’t whore on the side, like some of the other bar wenches. She had shoulder length brown hair and big hazel eyes set in a face spotted with freckles. Her body had a perfect hourglass shape, and though her tits weren’t as large as some of the other local beauties, her ass was huge and round, and made an erotic clapping sound with each step she took. Like all the other wenches working at the Drink, she wore an outrageously skimpy dress that left very little to the imagination.

“What can I get you boys?” she asked with a disarming smile.

“None of your cheap swill today, doll - get me and my friend a bottle of your finest rum.”

She raised a sceptical brow.

“Er- are you sure, sir? That’s the Sudani Firebrand. It’s three hundred silver marks.”

With speed that surprised all three of us, I reached out and grabbed the wench by the waist, pulling her close to me. My other hand went to her supple fat ass cheeks and kneaded them greedily.

“Ah- please, sir - That’s not allowed.” she stammered.

Ignoring her, I simply said “Do as I asked and bring me the Sudani Firebrand. Can you do that, doll?”

With a look of fear on her cute face, she just nodded urgently until I released her. I pressed three gold marks into her quivering hand. She quickly scampered off towards the bar without another word.

Zandek watched the interaction in amused disbelief and gave me an impressed whistle.

“You sure are… different. And loaded too? Or are you just reckless with what little coin you have?” he asked with a cackle.

“Right on both counts. I’ve come into some money.”

Zan gave me a hungry look that I well recognised. Greed was his biggest flaw.

“Care to spread it around, old friend?” he tried hopefully. “Things aren’t easy out there, as well you know.”

“I’ve already ‘spread it around’, haven’t I? Or are you forgetting you’re about to sample the best rum this shithole has to offer?” I said sharply.

“Sorry, old friend. You’re right of course.”

At that moment Annike returned with your bottle. She set it down on the table wordlessly along with two glasses and gave us a polite, yet uncomfortable smile before turning to leave. I grabbed her wrist.

“Oh please, sir… You really can’t” she reminded me.

“Hold your horses, sweetie - I just want to make sure the rum tastes alright before I let you go. Otherwise you’ll have to get another bottle, nay?”

She looked as if she didn’t think that was reasonable at all, but she seemed too afraid to argue or struggle. I pulled the poor girl into my lap. Now only sheer fabric was between her plump butt and my massive growing erection. She gasped as she felt the huge hardness grow stiff against her asscrack. I placed my palms on her plump milky thighs and massaged them firmly as I leaned in and whispered “now pour” in her ear.

With eyes wide with fear, Annike poured us two glasses of the honey-coloured ****.

“Now hold the glass to my mouth and tilt, doll” I instructed her in a menacing voice.

She obeyed, guiding the drink into my mouth as if I was a mighty sultan and she my ****. My cock pressed hard against her fat bottocks. She gasped as she felt it grind against her.

“I better let you go, doll - me and my friend need to talk business.”

She got off my lap with a look of relief on her face. I sent her off with a hard slap on the ass that made her cheeks jiggle.

“Ow!” she moaned and scurried off.

“Heh, you certainly aren’t shy around the ladies anymore, are you?” Zandek chuckled.

“I suppose not”, I replied with a shrug and downed my drink.

“So.. Business, ey? What have you got in mind?”

“Let me be frank, Zan. I’m tired of being a bottom-feeding adventurer. I’d rather be lord of these lands.”

He gave me an incredulous look. Then, when I didn’t say anything else, he burst out laughing.

“You? A lord? No offence pal, but you’re no match for the theocrats and their cavaliers, to say nothing of the guild. Your head will adorn the town wall just like all the other would be bandits and warlords.”

“You don’t think I can do it? I don’t blame you. I used to be a scrawny loser just a few days ago. But now.. Well.. I’ve taken care of the Terror of Gritenheim. And it wasn’t much of a battle either. I have powers now, terrible and glorious powers.”

I hadn’t meant to say all those things, but something new within me compelled me to do so. Ishtar had changed the very core of my being. Yet it felt natural. It felt right. Perhaps there was something in my insistent tone, or the eerie way in which I spoke of my abilities, but Zandek wasn’t laughing anymore. He narrowed his eyes at me and lowered his voice.

“Now I know you’re bullshitting me, Bor. You - the bane of the altgeist? The same altgeist that killed the last guild master and eight high ranking cavaliers?”

“Soon you will have no cause for doubt”, I retorted. “Come visit me in my new home, in Gritenheim, and I’ll show you the head of the beast that caused so much grief.”

He gave me a sceptical look and folded his arms as he leaned back in his chair. I sighed.

“We’re friends, Zandek - but I don’t expect to get your help for nothing in return. Here.”

I pulled out a purse and threw it down on the table in front of the old rogue. The man raised a brow, but when I didn’t say anything else he grabbed the purse and poured the contents out on the table. He gasped in surprise.

“Gods, Bor - there’s more than a hundred gold marks in here!”

He paused, looking up at me unsurely.

“You- You’re serious, aren’t you.”

I smirked at him and gave him the slightest nod of the head. Quickly, Zandek gathered the gold back into the purse and stuffed it inside a pocket in his cloak. Slowly, the smile returned to his pale thin lips.

“So… What can I do for you?”

“I have a job for you, me, and say.. About ten more men. Good men, stealthy and skilled. Can you get them for me? You can keep the rest of the gold once you’re done.”

“Ten men? Sure, sure - I can make that happen”, he replied.

“Oh, and don’t get guild members or anyone else notable. Get some scum from the slum. The less known they are, the better. Just make sure they’re actually used to knifework.”

Zandek poured himself another glass of the expensive rum and downed it in one go. He then rose from his seat.

“Bring them to Gritenheim. You have seven days, Zan.”

“You can count on me ‘boss’”, he said with a smirk - then turned to leave.

I was alone again, and now that I had nothing else to distract me - I again felt my lust awaken inside me, like some primal ****. My balls ached. It had been almost a day since I had last emptied my load in Frieda. I needed someone new. Why not expand my harem even more tonight?

I scanned the room. There was Annike, with her cute brown curls, wide hips and massive ass. There was that mysterious snow elf traveler with the large tits and raven hair. And lastly the two foreign nobles and their jewelled sex slaves - why not rob those two and take all their possessions for my own?

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Who should Borok go after - the tavern wench, the elf or the nobles? Vote in the comments.

1) Annnike, the brunette bar wench with a massive ass
2) The elegant snow elf with the large tits
3) The two nobles and their sex slaves