We finally arrived. The King commented on the grandeur of the grounds and the stateliness of the castle. The driver parked our carriage. As we walked toward the iron gates, Solomon carried my bag – I loved his willingness to serve me. Get used to it, darling – it’s going to be mandatory from now on.
We stepped upon the grand porch, and the doors slowly opened. A servant bowed and greeted us, and we were escorted into Leviathan’s Foyer.
Once we entered, I led the King to the banqueting table inside the dining hall. I lit some lamps and incense, making him comfortable. Praising his presence, I asked him to sit in the dragon’s chair.
Three stunning harpists, who happened to be part man and part woman, started to play, as the music so delightfully filled the room. The King sat and soaked in the moment. I excused myself and mixed an intoxicating potion for him to sip.
After I pampered myself, I repeatedly covered my body a second time with Bathsheba’s oils and painted my eyes. Once I pinned up my hair and slipped into my sheer black gown, I placed Zara’s spiked scarlet boots on my feet, and diamond studded gloves on my hands – a much more appropriate wardrobe, for what I had in mind.
As I walked out to the dining hall, his eyes studied my demeanor. I instantly became the personification of dominance. Incapable of hiding it, his soul was drawn by my power. He became wordless, and I liked it. His silence was submissively sexy. His stare was erotically familiar – flashbacks of Palace memories ignited my lust.
After giving him my insidious potion, he became instantly lovesick. I removed my studded right glove from my hand and untied the strings of his clothing. Slowly I traced my fingers through his loose braids and onto his shoulders, carefully scratching his back and digging my nails into his skin. As I reached his lower cheeks, I probed his forbidden hole. I sensed his nerves catching fire – his eyes torn between two worlds. His flesh weak – yielding to my persuasion. I reached inside his pants and clutched his bulbs; they were oddly warm – almost hot. He closed his eyes and submitted to my seduction as my exploration began. He must be so desperate to come.
Each time I grabbed his stem, I refused to be predictable. Initially, I would grip it tenderly, but then, I’d squeeze it until he squealed.
“Like a lily among thorns,” I jeered.
With fervor, I kissed his lips and murmured, “You make me wet.”
His hands wildly moved around my waist. When they came near to my sacred space, I slapped his mouth, seized his cheeks and firmly screamed, “No!”
He challenged me and attempted to pet my petals once more. It was then I turned his head toward me, and spit in his face.
“No!” I screamed again.
“Look at me when we kiss!” I demanded.
Whorishly, I licked my spit from his eyes and tenderly kissed him with it.
His countenance announced, He was overcome by my dominance.
My illicit love escalated for over an hour until the potion took full effect and he ultimately entered into a helpless dark trance. It was then I walked him into the lower dungeon that was reserved for royalty. The finest craftsmen in the world helped to turn it into a work of art. The ceiling and floor were gilded in pure gold. The beams were hammered bronze. The handles to the whips, floggers, belts, and boards were crafted in finely engraved silver. The room smelled like sex – and I liked it.
As we strolled toward the slave’s altar, I perceived he had fully surrendered himself to my will and his defenses had left him.
I unbraided his hair, and it flowed across his chest. I kneeled down and dropped his pants. His fleshly crown was light purple and pulsating, engorged with blood – precisely what the potion was meant to achieve.
I commanded him, “Tell me what’s going on in your mind.” I knew his thoughts were dirty, but I wanted to hear his dark confessions myself.
“Say it! What’s your desire?”
His eyes appeared like a helpless sheep as he passively whispered, “Bind me like Samson, I need to be chastened.”
My heart danced within me. “Tell me more,” I demanded.
“Restrain me, drive my burdens out with your heavy hand,” he desperately begged.
“Good boy,” I teased.
I unlatched the last hook of his shirt and removed it. Being suggestive, I sat him upon a sapphire throne and removed his boots – the King was fully naked.
With his full consent, I proceeded to fasten his wrists and ankles with the iron bands that dangled from the chair – clicking them in place until they locked.
Once his body was no longer free to move, I called on Zara’s maidens to dance and undress themselves as they masturbated before him. There were five in all. They were exquisitely beautiful and chosen from Moab and Egypt. I gave them strict orders to orgasm at least three times before him until they rested.
I seductively kissed the lead dancer, and we masturbated together and sucked one another’s breasts before the King. Damn, she’s on fire – I could get lost right here. Back up, Abby, you have a king to capture.
Solomon’s eyes were lost in the familiar demon’s power. He was filled with lust and envy.
“Watch us, Solomon!” I chanted.
“Do you want this in your Palace? Tell me!” I screamed.
He attempted to rise from the throne, but the shackles were too secure. He remained enslaved to my salacious agenda.
I forced my breasts in his face. Holding my left one with both hands, I squeezed it as I thrust my wet firm nipple into his mouth.
“Can you taste her? She sucked me good, didn’t she?”
“Do you like my breasts? They’ve grown, haven’t they?”
His face was altered and flushed with covetousness.
With thoughts of degradation, I grabbed the crown of his stem. Whispering in his ear, I tauntingly said, “Ah, I remember how small … is it too small to satisfy your concubines?” His face became painted with shame. I knew his conscience was re-haunted by the words I spoke to him so long ago.
He moaned in pleasure. He loved my humiliation. I caressed him until my tease-like seduction depleted him of all of his strength.