The machinations of the Gomorean Ambassador

The king regarded the gift from the Gomorean Ambassador. A lovely slavegirl, naked, collared and leashed. She had a slight swell to her belly and tumescent breasts, clearly in her second trimester. She was perfect. He turned to the Ambassador. “Thank you for the gift but the answer remains no. I cannot ally myself with a heratic.”

“That is unfortunate for both yourself and our empire,” the ambassador observed. He nodded and turned to leave.

“Those found guilty of heresy are to be burnt at the stake…” the king said.

The ambassador sighed. “You cannot mean-“

“Guards. Execute this man!” The king ordered.

The ambassador's eyes widened in shock, his hand moving to his sword hilt. But he was too slow. The castle guards, dressed in gleaming armor, stepped forward, swords drawn, and in a flash of steel, the Ambassador's head rolled across the stone floor.

The king regarded the ambassador for a moment then took the slaves leash and led her to his bedchambers.

The room was vast, with a large four-poster bed adorned with velvet curtains and furs. The girl looked around nervously, her breath coming in quick, shallow gasps. The king’s chamber was a stark contrast to the dank, crowded **** quarters she had been in. The smell of candle wax and incense filled the air, and the soft glow of candles cast flickering shadows across the walls.

The king leashed her to the bed head with a firm tug, the metal links cold against her neck. She felt the leather bite into her skin. He began to strip off his clothes, each piece falling to the floor with a heavy thud that seemed to echo through the room. She couldn’t help but stare as his muscular body was revealed, her eyes drawn to his growing erection.

He watched her with a predatory gaze, stroking his thickening cock as he took in the sight of her. Her pregnant belly, a testament to the fertility that had made her such a valuable commodity on Acteon, was a source of intrigue to him. He was well known for his fetish for pregnant slavegirls, and the thought of claiming her, of marking her as his own, filled him with a primal excitement.

Without a word, he stepped closer to the bed, the leather of his boots creaking against the stone floor. He gripped her hips and positioned himself behind her, the tip of his cock nudging at her wet entrance. She trembled, her breaths coming in quick, shallow pants as she braced herself for the inevitable. He didn't bother with foreplay; there was no need for it with a ****. With one powerful thrust, he entered her, the sound of her gasp filling the room.

Her body was tight around him, made even more so by the swell of pregnancy. He relished the feel of her plumpness, the way she jiggled with each pump of his hips. He was rough, his thrusts deep and demanding, and she whimpered with every movement, her nails digging into the fur that lined the bed. The leather of her collar creaked as she arched her back, pushing herself against him, urging him deeper.

He reached around her, cupping one of her breasts in his hand, feeling the firmness of her nipple against his palm. He pinched it lightly, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger, watching as she squirmed and gasped. The other hand slid down her body, finding her clit, and he began to rub it in slow, deliberate circles, his eyes never leaving hers in the mirror above the bed. Her eyes were wide with a mix of fear and need, her mouth open in a silent scream.l of utter arousal.

He thrust into her with a slow, deep rhythm, savoring the way her body stretched to accommodate him. Her wetness made it easy, the slick sounds of their joining echoing through the chamber. He could feel her inner walls clench around him, trying to hold him in, as if her body was already preparing for his seed. He smirked, knowing that he had her exactly where he wanted her—**** and submissive, begging for his dominance.

The girl's whimpers grew louder, her body moving with each thrust as if it was a dance choreographed by centuries of **** training. Her heavy breasts swayed with the motion. The king's hand found its way to her throat, squeezing gently as he sped up, his hips pistoning into her with increasing ****. Her eyes widened with every gasp, but she didn't fight him. Instead, she pushed back into him, her hips matching his movements, urging him deeper, faster.

The king liked that the ****’s bane had done its work. The **** had turned her into a creature of pure desire, eager to satisfy the man who now owned her. Each thrust was a declaration of his power, a reminder that she was his to do with as he willed. She could feel his dominance in every inch of her being, a thrill that she loved and craved all at once.

Her body responded to his touch with an eagerness that was both humiliating and exhilarating. Each caress, each squeeze of her breast, each stroke of her clit, brought her closer to the precipice of climax. She bit her lip to keep from screaming out, the very act of holding back making the pleasure that much more intense.

Suddenly, the king's grip on her throat tightened, and she felt his cock swell inside her. He grunted, his hips jerking as he reached his climax. Wave after wave of hot seed filled her, and she couldn't help but let out a moan of pure, unbridled pleasure. His eyes rolled back in his head, and his body went rigid before he collapsed onto her, his weight pressing her into the fur-covered bed.

The king felt a moment of strange disorientation and then he felt … warm. Line he was floating. It was dark and warm and wet. He could hear a heart beating as though he was submerged. He tried to move. To grab something. But his body did not respond.

The Gomorrean Ambassador rolled his shoulders as he tested out his new body. The former kings body. He sat up and slid his cock out of the pregnant slavegirl. She sighed contentedly. Everything had gone as planned. Being beheaded was unpleasant but expected - the king had done the same to the Gomorean Ambassador’s previous body. But now the king was safely imprisoned, his consciousness residing in the mind of the unborn baby growing within the slavegirl he had been fucking. Doubtless the king was confused and unaware of their fate. But it seemed likely that they would figure out where and what that were. Four months from now the king would be in for a very rude awakening, being reborn into the body of a baby slavegirl. The Ambassador chuckled as he patted the slaves belly. He liked his work sometimes.