The Cilician Pirate King

“I take it that you’re familiar with Anya, the warrior queen?” Perrima asked Zalah, who nodded her in confirmation.
“Yes,” Zalah said, recognizing the name and title, “is it her that I’m to model as?”
“Oh yes…” Perrima replied, offering Zalah a wicked smile.

Anya was a historic and mythical figure, the two dimensions becoming blurred in the tales of her quests and odysseys on her way to the throne of one of the splinter-kingdoms during one of the lengthier periods of civil disarray which had plagued the Zoracian Empire.
At first a servant of the Empire, Anya had risen through the ranks to be hailed as the ruler of a large area after the Emperor and most of his family were poisoned by a renegade member of the imperial house, who hungered for the throne and the laurels.

Like other mythic figures before and after her, Anya hadn’t died, but had vanished when the Empire had been recreated, some say due to her services no longer needed with the re-emergence of stability and law, and others that she was killed as she tried to defend her position as queen.

“And certainly, you’ve read Innocent’s classic account of her life?” Perrima asked, her grin widening and her eyes gleaming with lust.
“Yes,” Zalah admitted, normally she cared little for books, but the story of Anya was one which fit quite well with her literary preferences, “he was quite the old pervert, wasn’t he?”
“Certainly, though of course old Anya gave him plenty of material to work with. You recall the account of her run-in with the pirates of the island of Cilicia, and the treatment she received from their king?”
“That which gave her a lifelong and graphically described love of being sodomized? Yes, I’ve read that passage a few times, it’s a nice pastime on lonely evenings.”
“Like you’ve had many of those…” Perrima smirked playfully as a figure stepped into the room.

The figure, a male who stood almost seven feet tall and who appeared to be as wide as the city gates, with bulging muscles everywhere, was dressed in a leather armour which covered his chest but left everything below it exposed, and bands of leather strapped over the massive width of his upper arms.
Swarthy and with black hair and stubble, the man’s sandaled feet as he moved into the room, approaching Zalah. Apart from the armour and the sandals, the man was naked, his long, fat cock already fully erect while his furry balls dangled under the heavy dick with each step that he took.

“This is Egan,” Perrima nodded at the man, her gaze following his stride, “who’ll be the model taking the role of the Cilician king.”
“Forgive me for asking,” Zalah said, her eyes too being focused on the jutting dick, “but am I to spend the entire day here? It seems like a waste of your temporary privileges…”
“Hah,” Perrima said, “this is merely a sketch, the finished painting will be large enough to cover the wall behind the desk in the shop, now be a good little slut and shut up and let Egan fuck you in the ass.”
“Oh,” Zalah said dreamily as she placed a hand on the massive trunk of the cock being presented to her, “only if I must.”

After nodding at Zalah as means of greeting her, Egan stepped behind her and then proceeded to lift her up in the air, holding her voluptuous frame high before lowering her down onto the stiff length of his cock, allowing her suddenly diluted bunghole to slide all the way down until her buttocks were only an inch from his large scrotum.
Zalah obeyed Perrima’s previous command and didn’t move as Egan started to fuck her anus, making her feel as light as a rag-doll as he bounced her up and down on his cock, her tits swaying in the air while he held his hands against the underside of her knees, pounding her sweet asshole until he came, sending a copious amount of his hot jizz rocketing into her bowels.
Zalah bit her lips and felt the warmth in her loins as string upon string of cum was shot into her rectum, Egan panting behind her as his balls were being drained by her tight bung.

“No,” Perrima said once Egan had finished cumming, “we still need more sperm, fuck her again!”

Egan must have been prepared with at least a few of Perrima’s different conjurations, for he was instantly ready and hard enough to fuck Zalah’s anus a second consecutive time, Zalah once again finding herself bouncing up and down in front of him.

Biting her lip hard enough to break its skin at one point, Zalah felt herself drift off into a mind-blowing climax, her first of the day, while Egan maintained his merciless reaming of her stuffed hole.

When the man had let loose a second cannonade of sperm into Zalah’s asshole, causing plenty more of the glossy fluid to pour out of the filled hole and glisten against the dark skin of his balls and thighs, Egan heard Perrima cry out “Stop!” and did so, striking a pose in which his cock was fully lodged inside Zalah’s asshole, and his powerful back was bent backwards somewhat as to expose Zalah’s well-fucked anus and the cum flowing out of it even further.

Now, Zalah got to spend thirty minutes being hoist into the air with a dick planted to the root inside her tight, drilled asshole.
Remaining silent as well as still, Zalah found that Egan did the same, which meant that she could hear little but the steady dripping of cum hitting the floor beneath her ass, and the movement of Perrima’s brush.
After twenty minutes, the tension and exposure which Zalah felt caused her to moan once more, and juices trickled out of her hairless pussy as she climaxed.

“Ah,” Perrima said at last, putting her brush down and looking up from the canvas at Zalah and Egan, “and we’re done with this part.”
Egan lifted Zalah off his cock and put her on the floor, giving her face a smack with his cock and then leaving the room.

“One of my servant girls will be waiting for you, should you wish to fuck her.” Perrima told Egan, smiling warmly at him as he walked past her.

“Now,” Perrima said to Zalah, who remained on the floor, “time for the next thrilling episode in Anya’s life!”