It wasn't every day that the court had assembled, but this wasn't every day. When an unassuming noblewoman accuses the crown prince's fiancee of heinous acts, it would be foolish to miss the gathering. The claims could not be ignored, not with the evidence the accuser claimed to have.
Normally, there would have been a proper investigation by the crown. Normally, no one would have paid this accusation any mind. Normally, accusations of these sorts started with the accuser bound in chains for their treasonous claims against the crown.
Normally.
But when the Holy Maiden makes those sorts of accusations, concessions had to be made.
"I, <abbr title="She was a snow leopard, fur immaculate. She wore a black veil and a matching black gown covered in little gems, sparkling like the stars in the night sky.">Asha Moonwater, Holy Maiden of the Heavens, Earth and Lands Between</abbr> formally demand that you cease your unrighteous act and call off your engagement, Lady Chandra, with the crown prince, our guiding star for our nation, His Lordship Kiran, Herald of the Next Age."
She stood there, her expression unreadable to the assembled crowd. Was it a serene grace? A pleading tranquility? A superior smirk? Some measure of all of those feelings, if not more? She clung to Kiran's arm, her clothing draped over his wide frame.
Kiran was a striking man. His broad chest was exposed through his plunging neckline, his horns adorned with interwoven gold chains that wove around his thick neck down to his upper chest, pooling above his broad pectorals. His loose clothes failed to hide his massive form, the Holy Maiden's ears barely reaching over his wide shoulders.
He made no efforts to neither pull Asha closer nor push her away, standing still with a flat face. He was a statue made flesh, impassionate in disposition and form. His gaze washed over the room, taking in everyone who had joined to watch the proceedings, in spite of their unofficial status. His eyes caught with Chandra's, the two locked in gaze before Asha pulled him away.
"You see? Even now she desperately reaches out to Lord Kiran. When will she learn that her litany of sins has caught up with her?"
Her fist firmly grasped Kiran's shirt, unwilling to let him go, as though she would lose him in the brief interval her hand slipped away. Any irony in her words was lost on her, out of her reach.
The assembled court stared at the center of the room, circled around the prince, his fiance and the Holy Maiden. Hushed whispers permeated the room, hands covering mouths as though that would sufficiently prohibit their concerns from leaking out to the affected parties. It wouldn't, but decorum had a process, unlike the proceedings in place.
"Come on now," Asha goaded. "Say something. Defend yourself for your crimes."
"Don't be absurd, Holy Maiden. The most I've done was try to remind you of your role. You aren't meant to be tethered to any members of the court. You know it's improper to be cavorting with Lord Kiran. He is my fiance. He is betrothed to me."
The crocodile stepped forward, her demeanor controlled. Light shone down through the skylight, highlighting her golden rings embedded in her nostrils. Her red dress draped against her scutes, hugging her body as she continued to slowly advance towards Kiran and Asha.
"You can't hold onto these lies any longer," the Holy Maiden replied, a hint of red gathering under her fur. "The court saw your bullying. They saw you push me down the stairs."
"You tragically tripped on your own dress. Understandable, for someone that isn't as accustomed to wearing such long fineries--we could have arranged for you to get some shorter wear until you were more comfortable, or some additional etiquette classes so that you could become accustomed to wearing a garment of that nature," Chandra replied.
"They saw you push me," the snow leopard protested. "That isn't even the full extent of what you've done. You besmirched my name to the others in the court. I would see you and some other Lady talking in the corner, fans in front of your face, no doubt spreading lies about me."
"You're right that it is improper to speak about someone who is present--proper etiquette is to speak with a fan as though to shield one's words. But no, I didn't do anything but answer questions that the others had about you, to the best of my knowledge. The rest I deflected, unable to adequately answer those inquiries." Chandra stepped forward again, her scarlet gown trailing behind her. Her arm lifted, a fan clicking, spreading to its full length in front of her lips.
"Yet another element I would have been glad to guide you with, if you so chose to come to me with your concerns instead of going to my husband-to-be, who isn't even qualified to address your concerns on such matters. Lord Kiran is lovely and wise in many ways, but the etiquette of women is not one of them, oh Holy Maiden."
Chandra clacked her fan shut to conclude her words, arms crossed so that the folded tool rested before her lips. In the noon light, her scutes glistened, well oiled as to stand out amongst the court. She was a glowing, fierce beacon, imperial purple threads commingled with golden embroidery woven throughout her form. As much as the Holy Maiden was beloved by the world, at this moment, there was no one that looked more suited to be by Lord Kiran's side than Chandra.
"Like anyone would believe your lies, Chandra," the Holy Maiden spat. "We all know your engagement is to uplift your family from its destitute position."
"How dare you!" Chandra replied, embers of rage glowing in her eyes.
"How dare I? You keep trying to circumvent the blame for the hardships I've suffered ever since being discovered. It's my fault for not knowing etiquette enough and yet no one even bothered to properly teach me in the first place. Maybe we could have prevented these mishaps, but you were happy to see me suffer, under the pretense of having the opportunity to correct me. But you know who is beloved by the world? Me. Not you, Chandra."
Asha's fur bristled, her left paw curled into a fist by her side. Her fangs peeked out from her lips, rage simmering at the surface.
"Perhaps you're right," Chandra offered after a pregnant pause. "Perhaps we could have done better. Perhaps we could have acted as befitting our position, instead of being scared of the discovery of someone who shook up our normal lives. For that, I apologize. You're right, Asha. We were wrong there. We had the opportunity to guide you as to how you should have acted in your position as the Holy Maiden, and yet we've done anything but such. That's a failure on all our parts, and for that, I'll take responsibility for my own contribution to such negligence."
"That's better--" Asha started.
"--But," Chandra interjected, "that doesn't explain your actions with my fiance."
"Of course. You get upset over the face of true love, your apology a mere pretense for the barbed words you layer into everything you say. I should have known better," the snow leopard replied, lips pursed. "Thankfully, I do know of someone else who can corroborate my evidence. Amit, you'll tell them, won't you?"
A collective whisper rippled through the crowd, all eyes turning to Amit who stood off behind Kiran and Asha. The monitor lizard's affect was flat, no shock, no fear, nothing at the declaration. He slowly stepped forward, pulling up to the other side of his prince.
He was bare chested, his shoulders framed in two functional pauldrons. A cloth belt wrapped around his waist, the turquoise cover bound with a neat buckle adorned with the kingdom's emblem. Soft pants fed into a pair of greaves resting above his feet--as the general's son, Amit felt it was his duty to follow in his father's footsteps, always prepared for training or an act of violence, confident that his well-trained hide could repel most threats.
"I can attest truly," the monitor lizard started, his raspy voice drifting along the palace floor, "that all that Lady Chandra has said is true. All that I do is for my prince, and I will speak nothing less than the truth for him."
Asha stared in shock at Amit, finally letting go of the prince, who turned and met the eyes of his trusted companion, remembering the concerns that had been brought up [[three weeks ago]].Victory within the arena wasn't a reflection of overall success. Just a snapshot in that moment of time. Better physical conditions, no mental distractions, the light of the noon sun catching the eye on a certain angle--the various causes for any sort of issue were too many to count.
With that knowledge in mind, that didn't stop Kiran and Amit from their regularly scheduled training, fist meeting fist. Amit was one of the few people who wasn't afraid of potentially harming Kiran; his own position within the court meant he understood his fair share of scrutiny. It wasn't the same as being the crown prince, but it was close enough, especially given the two were raised together (amidst others within their cohort of children of power).
The dusty pit was usually reserved for larger groups of training exercises, but it was unpopulated at this time of day. The troops were patrolling the area in response to the Holy Maiden's claims, meaning that it was all but guaranteed she couldn't be present for a bit of sparring.
"You're certain she went out on the excursion?" Kiran asked. His eyes darted about, checking for any unwanted visitors, but none could be seen. It didn't make him less paranoid. Not yet. Not without Amit's confirmation.
"I got word that Chandra is on the excursion too, ensuring that the Holy Maiden does her duty," Amit replied. His heavy tail flicked at the ground to punctuate his point, calling up a small cloud of dust.
"Oh thank the heavens," Kiran replied, wiping away a bead of sweat from his forehead. "She doesn't want to give me any peace. Any of my free time is stolen away, and the rest is no longer free but just duties I've put off for too long. This is the only free time I've had in weeks."
"I'm sorry that I brought you out here on the pretense of a discussion then," Amit replied, the corners of his mouth folding into a frown. "Because we do need to talk more about Asha. You're not alone in your Asha problem."
Kiran shook his head, unable to even stare at his friend, his gaze locked to the ground. "Don't I know it. Efe and Kamal have shared that she won't leave them alone either, and I take it the same is true for you?"
The monitor lizard grimaced. "She's strange. I would swear she was coming on to me, if it wasn't already patently obvious that she wasn't coming onto you as well."
"No, no, she's also coming onto you. The others confirmed the same for them. The Holy Maiden is trying any avenue she can, it seems." The prince grunted, his exposed body shaking with revulsion. He wore nothing other than a loincloth, as was traditional for the kind of sparring he was about to get to with Amit, the monitor lizard similarly adorned.
Amit shook his head, unwilling to accept the claim before him. "Did she think we wouldn't notice?"
"She thought we'd be into it, and not care about her attempts to court the whole court. Which to be fair, she's not entirely wrong about that," Kiran trailed off. He closed the distance, his hand reaching out to cup behind Amit's head, and pulled the lizard in for a kiss.
The two's tongues flitted out between their lips, bodies stirring to the attention, straining against the cloth. But then the two parted, need put aside, for the moment.
"Fuck, Kiran. How I've craved another pass at your lips, to have your strong body pressed up against mine."
"Would that we had more time, I'd grind you into the ground, but as it is, I can only grind you into dust now," the nilgai replied. He flexed, strong arms framing his powerful form, pecs bouncing from the attention.
"You're not the only one who'd like to pummel the other," Amit replied, striking his own poses. "I'd like to see you try and take me down."
"Fine then. Pleasure before pleasure," Kiran replied, pulling further back. He sized up his friend/lover/ally, ready to show him the true meaning of force.
"As you wish, my prince. I won't go easy on you, even if you're my liege," Amit replied. The monitor lizard circled around, looking for an opening to take the lead in this conquest.
It was obvious though.
[[Kiran was going to win.]]
==Amit was going to win.==The nilgai could feel it in his bones. Today was going to be his day. When he was through with Amit, he'd pin that handsome lizard to the ground for some fun, but he first had to earn that passionate moment.
The two circled each other, looking for any weaknesses. They <abbr title="All their habits, not just the ones on the battlefield.">knew each other's habits almost as well as they knew their own</abbr>, countless hours spent brawling under the hot sun throughout their shared youth. The muscles they honed could be attributed to the other, if only due the sense of kinship, both forged under the harsh regiment of Amit's father, Dipak.
Time was Kiran's ally, however. The <abbr title="Not literally in this instance, although he did have the the capacity to draw strength from the sun, if he so chose.">overhead sun filled him with vigor</abbr>, piercing through a cloud as Amit walked into the line of sight. The temporary change in perspective forced the monitor lizard to look away, allowing Kiran to lunge forward, his heavy thighs pushing off against the ground. He closed the gap, outstretched bicep lined up to clock his sparring partner in the face.
Amit only had but a moment to respond, drawing both of his arms up to guard against the assault. The blow pushed him back, feet sliding against the dusty floor. He grunted, not even ready for Kiran's left hook, sliding past his guard to his side, slamming him down onto the ground.
The monitor lizard rolled with the blow, scrambling to his feet as Kiran followed up. Amit lashed out with his tail, a wide sweep across the ground, the nilgai jumping over the opportunistic attack. His loincloth fluttered in the air, a powerful leap carrying his body like a cannon launched at his opponent.
Amit aimed at the telegraphed motion, tail bracing against the ground to absorb the impact into the ground. He threw up a counterblow with an outstretched arm. Kiran crashed into the monitor lizard, rolling against his tan scutes, Amit reaching out with a quick jab.
The punch connected, flinging Kiran back to the side, the prince easily landing on his feet. "Not bad. Not as easy as I thought."
"You know I'm never easy. Even if you call upon your blessing I'd still bury you," Amit quipped back.
That wasn't quite true. They both knew that Amit's claim was pure bravado. In terms of pure strength, Amit could come out ahead, but when mystical factors were added, Kiran outmatched him, no contest. They only drew upon their blessings in certain sanctioned spars; pure flesh against flesh was the only suitable contest without any others present to mediate the fight.
But that didn't mean that Amit had to accept he was destined to lose. Confidence was half of a fight--if one believed they were going to lose, the battle was already lost. As long as one believed they could still win, they had a fighting chance.
He calmed his breathing, circling around the prince once again. Kiran pivoted in place to match Amit's approach, willing to let the monitor lizard expend more energy in his attempt to find the perfect angle. As long as he was ready for whatever Amit would throw his way, victory was assured.
Seeing no other option, Amit <abbr title="Not quite what he was used to swallowing.">swallowed his fears</abbr> and lunged, arms outstretched to grapple the prince. His sturdy limbs reached for Kiran, desperate to bind the nilgai in place and drag him to the ground. Dust kicked off in a cloud from the ground, parting behind Amit in his wake--he was betting it all on this charge, one way or another. He knew he would lose in a match of stamina, but he would have enough force for one overwhelming approach.
But his prince was well prepared.
He'd seen such charges from Amit before. His friend was single-minded to a fault, too willing to think that this was his only chance to win. Kiran understood his friend's strength better than the monitor lizard did himself. He could have won, if he didn't commit to giving up so easily. He didn't have to risk it all. His fundamentals far outstripped Kiran's, the prince too used to relying on his blessing even in the smallest of ways.
That wasn't to say he was untrained, but Amit's discipline bore fruits, even if the monitor lizard wasn't willing to notice what his training bore. Or perhaps he couldn't notice it--he was too far within himself, just as Kiran could only perceive the way he did.
Nonetheless, it was his own perception that could see victory. It was too easy to read the grapple coming in, meaning the prince could take advantage of the situation. He caught the momentum of the charge and rolled back, legs locking around Amit's, the lizard's other leg trapped within his arms.
It was a tight position, but pure strength wasn't enough to break out of a lock like that. Using one's blessing could have resulted in enough force, but that would have been against the rules of combat. Amit struggled helplessly, but he couldn't manage to get enough leverage to break free from the leg lock.
"Fuck, you got me," Amit conceded. "Are you going to let me go?"
"Why should I?" Kiran replied. "Things are starting to get interesting now."
The monitor lizard sighed. "You really meant that?"
"You're telling me you wouldn't act on your 'threat' if you won our bout?"
"Fine, fine. I won't say no to my prince. Especially not when he's got me by the balls." The arm lock lessened, although that didn't reduce the amount of fur-to-scale contact between the pair. The nilgai pivoted over, so that the two were chest to chest, bountiful pecs pressed nipple to nipple. He cupped Amit's head, his thick arm reaching around to draw his friend closer and closer until their lips met, a frenzy of kissing overtaking the two.
Kiran's knees pressed at Amit's, nudging the thighs to the side. It was a simple request, easily interpreted in the midst of tongue meeting tongue. His other hand wandered down the monitor lizard's scales, traveling the map of muscles until he reached his treasure, still obscured by the loincloth. IIt was a courtesy, to not go further yet. They both knew what they desired, Kiran's manhood already stirring within the confines of the cloth.
"You really wish to claim your prize that quickly, my lord?" Amit said, breaking away from the last greedy kiss.
Kiran panted, hands pulled back to unfurl his loincloth. He had a lovely man in front of him. It wouldn't do to refrain from showing him how interested he was. His thick club sprung free, standing at full mast. The overhead sun cast the shadow of his cock onto Amit, the elongated head resting upon his lips.
"Oh, so you want a blow job then?" Amit said, hands fumbling with his own loin cloth. "Because your cock is near my mouth."
"You're not getting out of this that easily," Kiran muttered, impatient to see the monitor lizard's goods.
"What, now you don't want me to take off my loincloth?" Amit quipped back, pausing his disrobing, little attire that it was.
Kiran growled and got to work, the teasing only making his cock head twitch further. Amit's denial was only temporary. With a triumphant roar, he threw the remnants of clothing aside, revealing a pair of inviting holes, one right at the start of the lizard's tail, the other a bit further up, a simple slit showing a hint of cocks threatening to escape.
"You're only that aroused?" Kiran said, hand continuing to slide down Amit's scales down to the asshole. He was already quite familiar with the slit; what he wanted wasn't the treasure buried within it, but to bury his own meat into the monitor lizard's tight hole.
"Should I have gotten more aroused from the fight? The one I lost?"
"Alright, maybe it isn't as sexy to lose a fight, even if it did mean grappling your hard body against mine," Kiran replied, taking a cursory nibble at his friend's nipples. Amit squirmed under the attack, the act more disarming than anything done during the brawling prior.
"S-stop," Amit moaned. "Y-you know I'm s-sensitive there."
"That's the point. I love it when you squirm like that. <abbr title="Kiran was a master of tautology. He said whatever he said. He liked what he liked. The purpose of his words was to deliver the purpose of his words.">It's so hot when you get hot and bothered," Kiran growled</abbr>, his hand circling around the hole. He traced the contours of Amit's body, traveling the sculpted flesh, inch by inch.
"Stop teasing me," the monitor lizard demanded. "If you're gonna fuck me, just go ahead and fuck me."
"I still haven't even prepped you," Kiran replied. He flashed a bright grin at Amit, before planting a gentle kiss on his cheek. "But I won't hold off any longer, if you're so desperately in need."
He gave a silent prayer in his head to the world that allowed him the bounty of his friend's body, swirling runes coalescing around his fist. The <abbr title="What the glyphs exactly said was still studied, with no conclusive results found at that time. New rotes were a reflection of experimentation mostly, not an accurate science.">glyphs</abbr> clung to his skin, making his hand glow, awash in the holy light of the world. This wasn't what the purification rote was intended for, but it had been <abbr title="Lubricant included for this variant, of course. Can't fool around without proper lubrication.">well adapted</abbr> to situations like these, an open secret amongst those with blessings.
One finger slipped into Amit's ass, the monitor lizard squirming at the intrusion. He'd had plenty of practice with his backdoor, but each time still felt like the first, until he rose to the occasion. He moaned for Kiran to get closer, desperate to continue the kissing that had halted. The nilgai nodded his head, thrusting his tongue in parallel with his finger in his probing of his friend.
The purification rote made entrance easy, the first digit sliding in almost effortlessly, but one digit wouldn't be enough in the end. The nilgai sported at least a three-digit cock, meaning that Amit still had some more prep to take before they escalated to the conclusion. But such thoughts in the heat of the moment were ephemeral, quick impulses that died at the desire for one another. Amit needed Kiran, just as much as Kiran needed Amit.
With the stimulation from Kiran's finger, the monitor lizard's pair of cocks finally started to emerge from the slit, <abbr title="No one else seemed to be as well equipped as Kiran was. Not that he knew of, anyway. If there was someone in another generation with a cock to rival his own he'd never seen it, only playing amongst his colleagues and friends. He figured it was perhaps another facet of his blessing, anyway. Just another endowment from the heavens. Was there something to be said about dealing with two cocks at once? Sure, but that wasn’t the same as just being impaled by one fat cock.">the thick equipment not quite as well endowed as Kiran</abbr>, but still nothing to bemoan, especially given he had two of them. He didn’t need to be equally as thick when he had two that worked by similar measure.
They were slick with arousal, mirroring the growing acceptance in his hole but a few inches further below. He needily pushed his cocks up towards Kiran's, the two tools meeting<abbr title="Or in this case, tip to tip to tip, given Amit’s twin cockheads."> tip to tip</abbr>, before pulling back, a string of pre-cum stretching apart between the three cockheads. The angle couldn't be maintained with Kiran's active efforts, but that didn't mean Amit didn't want to give his prince a <abbr title="It was a sort of game, if one could call it that, which Kiran, Amit and the others developed when they first started fooling around together. Just as Kiran had to be formally acknowledged in a political setting, it was only equally proper to give a similar acknowledgement within the bedroom. A kiss on the cheeks became a kiss tip to tip.">proper greeting</abbr>, even if only for a moment.
And then, Amit's world changed, as one finger became two.
"Oh fuck," he groaned, bucking at the intrusion. "How are your fingers this thick?"
"I'm a big guy. What do you think?"
"It was rhetorical, you--" Amit's retort was cut off with a hasty withdrawal and reinsertion, the glyphs still shining brightly against Kiran's fur. They cast Amit's hole in an inviting light as opposed to the <abbr title=" It was a good thing it was an overcast day--Kiran wouldn't want for his friend to get burnt from the extended exposure he'd have from the outdoor fucking.">harsh rays of the overhead sun.</abbr>
"Oh fuckkkkk," Amit groaned, curling his tail around Kiran's back. He felt like he needed something sturdy to grab onto lest he float away on the currents of his rising pleasure. The repeated probing elicited a steady stream of pre cum leaking from the monitor lizard's dicks, dribbling onto his smooth scales. Kiran looked on with pleasure, his own cock twitching in tandem with his efforts. He considered trying to kiss Amit again, but the lizard was lost to pleasure, panting heavily at the preparation and besides, he liked seeing Amit squirm.
"F-fuck me, already," Amit begged, arching his body to push down on the fingers more. "I can't take this."
Kiran shook his head. "You're not ready just yet, but let's see how you can handle three."
His pointer and middle finger withdrew, and his ring finger was added to the mix, the amassed fingers pressed up against Amit's hole. It was a slow initial insertion with Amit taking heavy breaths and pushing his hole out to try and accept the intrusion with relative ease. Slowly, gently, gingerly, until he swallowed the digits down to the knuckles, a <abbr title="It was first one cock, then the other. Not at the same time. Different priority within the pipes, as far as Amit knew.">glob of cum oozed out of each of the monitor lizard’s cocks</abbr> from the force pressing against his walls.
Amit quivered, his body rapt in the throes of pleasure, desperate to continue the fun. "Oh fuck," he grunted. "You're too--ah!" He gasped as Kiran upped the pressure, slowly thrusting his fingers back and forth into the monitor lizard's needy hole.
Regular speech was no more an option--every few words of Amit's would be interrupted with another gasp or moan. A coherent sentence was no longer in reach. He could only bark out short phrases.
"Fuck me."
"Yes, yes, I know you're wanting my fat cock up your ass, but let's see if you're ready to take what I'll give," Kiran said. He picked up the pace, his fingers pistoning in and out of Amit, the monitor lizard clinging to the nilgai tightly. Any resistance to his three digits had all but fallen away, his friend fully surrendering to the moment.
He nodded, the left side of his mouth curling into a smirk. "Very well then. Get ready. You'll get what you asked for."
He withdrew his fingers for the last time of the day, before draping them around his cock, passing along the purification rote's properties to his rod. It was now insulated against disease, if not lubricated, glowing dimly in the wake of the overhead sun. The monitor lizard panted, taking the brief respite to recover, even if his rigid cock indicated nothing less than a need to continue.
The nilgai rolled over onto his back and grabbed the lizard, easily hoisting him into the air. The large lizard shook his head, startled at the sudden change in direction, before remembering whose hands carried him. He trusted his prince unconditionally--whatever momentary panic this was wouldn't be worth lingering on. He <abbr title="It also helped to not be staring directly at the sun. It was a bit bright. Inconsiderate of his prince not to think about that, really.">closed his eyes</abbr> ready for whatever came next.
From the moment Kiran's dick entered Amit, it was as though time vanished for the monitor lizard. Only waves of pleasure. His legs were lifted to expose easy access to his tail, Kiran's arms wrapped behind Amit's head. Kiran's fat cock slid into the primed hole effortlessly, gliding in and out, as though rutting instinct took over.
His thick thighs held the couple aloft from the ground, his constant thrusts a visible pattern under Amit's skin. The monitor lizard's tail looped around Kiran's left leg in what little lucidity he still had, desperate to hold on tight for the ride of his life.
"I-I don't think I c-can take much more of this," Amit squealed, his cocks trickling drops of cum with every slam of Kiran's fat cock. His toes curled, body entering orbit, far into the core of the sun. His body was aflame with pleasure, Kiran's warmth infusing his body. His eyes closed, flesh shaking, no long able to focus on anything other than the massive cock driving him mad.
This was the reflection of Kiran's mastery. He not only won in the spar, but he knew how to deliver his friend into bliss. He knew Amit almost better than the monitor lizard did himself. Amit's tight walls clamped down on his dick, as though begging for the prize to be delivered with no further delay, and who was he to say otherwise? Kiran was a <abbr title ="This was a contentious claim amongst his friends, but on the other hand, they weren't complaining whenever he ravished them.">magnanimous winner</abbr>, as any prince should be.
The nilgai grunted, pistoning faster, his need to fill the monitor lizard growing with each stroke. He conquered his friend. He was going to leave his mark with a fat load, a deluge of cum coating the monitor lizard's insides. His thick cock bulged against Amit's stomach, the monitor lizard no longer able to hold back, <abbr title="First one, then the other. It was almost comedic, as though it was by design that the cum was fed into one cock before being reloaded into the other.">lines of cum trickling from his cocks in waves.</abbr> Each thrust of Kiran’s kept the act going, Amit crying out an extended moan as the orgasm tore through his body.
In turn, Amit's ass clamped down harder than before, getting impossibly tight. With a mighty groan, Kiran ramped up his pace once again, balls tensing against his skin as he held off until the last possible moment. For all that he had mastered control, this was a wall he couldn't overcome, his balls churning as he dumped his load into the monitor lizard. Wave after wave pulsed out, his thrusts slowing as Kiran rode the waves of his orgasm, afraid that he could fall from the sudden lack of strength from his exertion.
With a noisy squelch, he pulled out of Amit, the monitor lizard’s hole desperately clinging to the fat withdrawn meat. The tip of his cock still dribbled a tiny trickle of cum, the rest of his load trailing out of the lizard's hole. His arms pulled away from the monitor lizard's head, legs no longer bound by his thick biceps. Amit was as free as he could be in the moment, and he rolled away from Kiran, his cock having already retreated back into his slit. Contentment was written on his face, the smell of sweat, semen and sex heavy in the air.
Kiran looked over at his friend and nodded. Things were as they were meant to be, but the post-nut clarity was bringing some other important matters back into focus once again. It was fantastic to have this moment of freedom, but it would soon pass; they still had to discuss their mutual problem.
"You still with me, Amit?" Kiran inquired, idly rubbing his stomach. Even the <abbr title="It was a preventative measure, not a 'siphon cum out the ass' sort of measure. Ostensibly one could use another rote for that, but who wants to risk experimenting in that manner with one's body? The normal healing rotes were the full extent of experimentation. Natural cleaning methods would suffice.">purification rote wouldn't be enough in the end;"</abbr> a shower was necessary after a spar, especially one with such a cooperative ending.
"I am, Kiran. I am." His ass was sore, but he'd manage. It wasn't anything less than the blows Kiran had inflicted during the brawl, and Amit was nothing if not hardy. But he couldn't linger on the desperately needed fucking.
[[It was time for business again.]]MAKE THIS ONE MORE BLOODY/VIOLENT.
"Draw blood, soldier. No stopping until you've proven you break through my scales."
accidentally bloodying his commanding officer and doing more commanding officer play.
[[It was time for business again.]]"What are we going to do about Asha?" Amit asked. The pair had re-equipped their loincloths, unwilling to roll around in the dirt nude once clarity of mind had returned. They sat off to the side of the arena in the shadows, the monitor lizard casually <abbr title="Even in the midst of one conversation he couldn't stop preparing for the distant future.">drawing rough forms of tactical formations</abbr> into the dust.
"That's a good question. I'll need to see what we can do. She is the Holy Maiden. We need to treat her gently, insomuch as we can lest she wish to sever ties with us."
"And that's a problem because..."
Kiran rolled his eyes, lightly punching his friend in the shoulder. "Don't joke around. You know she's a critical asset. There's been more ill portents lately. Supposing the prophecy is true in any measure, we can't afford to have her at anything less than her functional best."
"Then why is she so fixated on us instead of her impending task?"
"Amit, she wasn't born into this line of duty. It's been thrust upon her, with an insufficient amount of time to build up to that sense of responsibility and the heavy weight such power brings. We just have to do our best to guide her along the correct path. I'm sure our fathers are discussing some measure of plan to better handle her, but for now, we just need to observe what she's trying to do and appease her as much as we can."
Amit grumbled, but he had nothing further to add. What Kiran said was fair. They weren't even in a position to meaningfully act yet without their respective fathers' say-so. Whatever Dipak told him, he'd follow. That was his duty as a soldier under the general. He just hoped whatever meeting they'd be able to scrounge up would bear better fruit than his meeting with Kiran. That was mostly an excuse for stress relief, and not quite a proper plan of operations that they may have needed.
But if anything, it did reinforce in Kiran that he could have faith in Amit's future duty as the general of the kingdom. If he had that much prowess when fucking, there was no doubt in his capacity to lead the military on the kingdom's behalf.
As much as the prince and the general's son were contemplating their next steps, elsewhere within the palace their parents were coming to similar conclusions. <abbr title="In many ways, Kamal was just like Kiran. The same stout chest. The same handsome face. The rest were the differences age brought. A rounder stomach, less firm muscles, and a gaze that had seen too much. The head that wears the crown is heavy, and his time as the king had left its mark.">Kamal</abbr> and <abbr title="Dipak was the very model of a general. His scales were covered in scars, remnants of his war efforts. His body was sculpted, but in a practical sense--this was a body prepared for the battlefield, not one for posing in a bedroom, as much as he was wont to do so. His eyes were warm, but they could swell to an inferno in the midst of battle. He was hardened steel made flesh."> Dipak's</abbr> arms bulged, muscles straining against each other. Their fists were clasped over a table, dominance at threat.
"What do you think about the Holy Maiden?" Dipak grunted, rivulets of sweat running down his forehead.
"I have a lot of thoughts about her," Kamal replied, a vein bulging in his forehead.
This was their custom. Discussion over arm wrestling, a practice Dipak had<abbr title="'If I'm going to be predominantly using my brain now,' he had said, 'Then I still need to get some physical exertion in while thinking.' Kamal couldn't argue with that. He didn't mind the opportunity to tussle with his general, as it was."> insisted upon years ago when he was promoted to be the general of the kingdom.</abbr> Whatever thoughts they would have during these bouts were terse. No room to overthink when so much energy was going into winning the bout, and boy did they need to win. That was almost more important than the subject matter to be discussed in itself.
"She's too forward."
"Don't be rude," Kamal admonished. "She hasn't done anything explicitly out of line. Yet."
"The spies tell me she's spreading rumors and trying to start some shit with Chandra." Dipak tried to overwhelm the king with a quick burst of energy, but Kamal was too used to such practices to be taken unaware, energy held in reserve to counteract the move.
"Chandra... She doesn't deserve any of this. I'll have to make amends to her father, somehow."
"You better," Dipak said, gritting his teeth. "He's a fine man, who's stood behind you even when you didn't deserve it."
"When haven't I ever deserved a fine man standing behind me?" Kamal replied with a wink.
"Don't get distracted. You'll lose if you let your mind wander."
"Further away than we already are wandering from in our topic of discussion?" His mouth curled into a smirk, wicked nature sitting on his lips.
"I'll have to concede that point, my liege," the monitor lizard replied. "But I don't plan on conceding this match. Same terms as usual?"
"I wouldn't expect otherwise," the nilgai said. "But we need some measure of what to do with Asha. We can't just let her disrupt the court without any repercussions."
"Let the boys handle it. If things get out of control, we can step in, but if it's localized to them, hopefully her dislike for the kingdom will be centralized on Chandra and our sons, instead of the rest of your subjects. We can't afford to lose the Holy Maiden. You know this, your majesty."
"I never thought the portents would come to pass in our lifetime, Dipak. I thought we'd be fortunate enough to die in relative peace, my old friend." A tenderness infused his grip, as though he was holding the monitor lizard's hand not only to defeat him in the wrestling, but in acknowledgement of the <abbr title="The Three Years' War had taken place not long before their sons were born. For all that they had to protect, it still felt like so much was lost, and yet, they could do nothing less than share the pain with others who suffered through it all the same. Late night drinks on the balcony of the palace, looking out onto what could have been lost and what they needed to guard for the future that still had yet to come."> burden the two had shared throughout the years.</abbr>
"Don't go trying to abdicate responsibility just yet, my old friend. You're not allowed to give up for anything less than my own arms." Dipak's tone was soft, a stark contrast to his sculpted form. His scales glistened with sweat, the continued exertion starting to get to the older monitor lizard.
"Why your arms?" the king chortled, body tensed to refrain from letting his humor overwhelm his form.
"Because anything else is far too important for you to depart, my king." The monitor lizard's words were filled with reverence, mirrored by the <abbr title="'I will be your sword. I will carve out the path for you to follow. I will be your shield. I will guard you from the evils that threaten to overwhelm you. Use me to carry out your will.' He had made his oath in front of the whole court, a scrawny little thing at the time. No one would have known he would have grown to such a man, other than Kamal. The oath was focused with just the slightest hint of poetry to it. Truly a reflection of Dipak.">oath he had sworn what felt like lifetimes ago.</abbr>
But reverence was not the appropriate mood for their act. The mood was dispelled with a solemn nod and a refocused vigor to crush their opponent before them. They would never get anything done if they lingered too much in the past. They had to resolve the matters at hand, lest they hand their sons a mess they failed to clean up.
"Very well then. We'll continue to monitor the situation. I'll consult further with Niraj, Itri and Indra on the matter then.."
"Of course," Dipak said, giving a curt nod. "I think it's time to end this farce. No more holding back."
"Very well. We've discussed what we needed to do. Let's see who comes out on top today."
The pair's arms strained against each other, desperate to be the winner of this show of strength. Biceps flexed, bodies drawing strength all the way down to their very core--no blessings allowed, of course.
But only one could win.
[[Dipak's arm slammed into the table.]]
==Kamal's arm gave way, sliding against the wooden surface.==The monitor lizard panted, the exertion catching up to him. He had given it his all, and this time, he'd lost. Sad, but not impossible. Not every day would be his day; if he always won, there would be no meaning to the bouts. It was the thrill of competition that gave it meaning. It was the stakes that made the thrill real. Which meant, it was time to pay up.
"What's the next competition you've got in mind then?" Dipak said.
It was a loaded question. Dipak already had some ideas in mind. Kamal wasn't that original of a person, when it came to matters like this, not that the monitor lizard could claim to be otherwise. The conclusion was almost forgone. It was just a matter of execution for how this session would differ from any other.
Kamal tilted his head back and forth, as though the thoughts were rolling about in his skull. It was <abbr title="If there was one thing Kamal understood above all other, it was what a privileged life he lived. Even his time during the Three Years' War paled in comparison to that of his soldiers on the front line. This, however, was a privilege that didn't weigh heavily on his heart."> a privilege</abbr> to be the one to decide what happened next, and he wanted to make the most of it. He had an idea he'd been saving for a day when things were busier. They still had time for more complicated challenges, but Kamal figured he had to take advantage of whatever opportunities he'd get for his schedule.
"What I'm thinking is we see who can give the better blowjob."
Dipak smirked, teeth peaking out of the corner of his mouth. "If you wanted to lose that easily, we could have chosen something else you're shit at, like taking a cock up your ass."
The nilgai's eyebrows rose, disbelief at the general's word obvious to all present. "Do you really think you have the room to have such confidence after you just lost at arm wrestling?"
"Feh, that was a bout of muscles. This is a skill-based challenge. You're far more accustomed to receiving than giving."
It wasn't untrue, but that didn't mean Kamal enjoyed the implication of being called a selfish lover. He couldn't help having a fat cock that the boys wanted to slobber over. He couldn't help but have his balls tense up and deliver a tasty load down their throat. It was what they wanted. Nothing less than his best for the boys, Dipak included. It wasn't his fault they usually denied his offers to reciprocate--<abbr title="He couldn't even argue with that claim. There was a lot of work to be done, and not enough time in the day. For all that his wife did, he still had just as much work to do, and so did his top officials. Any dalliance was built into the schedule. Spontaneity was largely dead.">"Not enough time, we've got to get back to work" they'd say, or some other similar message.</abbr>
"That doesn't mean I have no experience," Kamal protested.
"Yeah, but you're worse at it." It was a matter of fact statement. No room for Kamal to argue. At least, not with his words.He had an uphill battle, given the difference in equipment between the two of them. He’d have to prove his valor on the field.
"Fine," the nilgai said. He dropped below the table, crawling across on his knees until he got between the monitor lizard's thick legs. They weren't as lean as they were in his youth, some weight put on over the years, but the same could be said of Kamal. That being said, the king admired the thighs all the same. He planted a series of gentle kisses down the length of the leg, tracing the pattern of the general's scales, until the winding lattice brought him to the monitor lizard's slit.
Kamal pressed his nose up against the opening, being met with a hint of cocks poking out. The meat was hot to the touch, which only made it all the more enticing. Who wouldn't want a snack so neatly bundled for one's enjoyment?
He licked his lips, giving a silent prayer to the world for his meal, and his tongue darted in, tracing the circumference of Dipak's cockheads one at a time . For all the monitor lizard had protested, Kamal could already taste some excitement dripping from the tips, a tiny trickle of anticipation for the challenge to come.
"Oh ho, so you're ready to be beaten again?" Kamal said, his voice slightly muffled under the table.
"Just because you'll lose doesn't mean I can't enjoy your attempt," was the monitor lizard's gruff reply. His cocks edged out a bit more from the slit, the full lengths still mostly buried within. Kamal knew Dipak wasn’t as thick nor long as anyone else in their regular circle of fun–if he had twin monster cocks, there would have been an endless line to Dipak’s bedside–but they were sufficiently well endowed enough that the end goal was obvious. If Kamal was going to win, he had to swallow both of the dicks at once.
He rubbed the emergent cockheads against his cheek, the hot rods smearing pre cum into his fur. He was buried between both heads, taking care not to strain the angle. It was supposed to be pleasurable, not break the general’s meat. Dipak's breathing started to get heavier; fur on flesh was always a pleasant sensation. He let out rapid pants as his cocks slowly extended past Kamal’s cheeks.
The nilgai gingerly tilted his head so that his horns <abbr title="And instead were about half an inch away from scraping the table underneath. It wasn't made for these shenanigans, no matter how often they occurred. Nonetheless, the fun left its mark with missing chunks of wood underneath from past excitement.">pointed away</abbr> from the monitor lizard's scaly flesh, He pushed ahead, wrapping his lips around the monitor lizard's left cock, taking the meat further and further, the more he coaxed it out. His tongue swirled around the cockhead, lips pressed against the hot meat, desperate to take as much of it as he could (and yet he still had another untouched cock to go).
Kamal took in the meat, inch by inch, no effort <abbr title="Not that Dipak could see it from his position above the table.">visible on his face.</abbr> One hand massaged the general's thighs, the other creeping around to the backdoor, playing with the other hole. His head bobbed back and forth, swapping between the monitor lizard’s meat with each withdrawal, his hand repurposed to treat the un-addressed meat with gratitude until it had its turn in the warmth of his mouth once again. This continued under Dipak’s twin penises fully emerged, meaning it was time to take things to the next level. With one mighty effort, Kamal pushed forwards until the monitor lizard's right cock was enveloped from front to end, the <abbr title="He thought he could feel a steady stream of pre cum leaking from each penis, but there wasn’t enough time to be devoted to the flavors. Maybe an expert dicksucker would notice the subtle differences but Kamal didn’t have the time nor energy to get to that level of experience. Running a kingdom took a surprising amount of effort."> cockhead reaching the back of his tongue.</abbr>
It'd been a while since he'd gone that far, unsure if he still had the capacity to take such a cock without gagging, but it all came back to him the moment he wrapped his lips around his friend's dick. That was talent, wasn't it? Not leading a kingdom, but being able to swallow meat after not having done so for quite some time. The other kings of the world could stand to be jealous of such feats.
With a full length in his mouth, Kamal picked up his <abbr title="He still swapped from cock to cock, but each instance he swallowed the full length. He had to get used to that depth before he swapped to the additional aspect of width."> bobbing efforts</abbr>, his finger rubbing against the monitor lizard's hole in sync with his oral performance. Teasing, trailing against some of Dipak's softest skin, threatening to enter but not yet. Not just yet. That was going to be his finishing move. The most innovative one? No, but he didn’t need to rely on innovation. Just tenacity, hard work, and enthusiasm for pleasuring his friend.
Dipak shook from the repeated efforts, starting to buck his hips whenever Kamal pulled back. For all that he had discredited his king's skills, he was still enjoying the ride. Each time the nilgai swallowed one of his cocks, the other slid against Kamal's cheeks, twitching from the stimulation. His breathing was hitting a constant flow of panting, fingers reaching under the table to grab onto Kamal's horns for support.
The king pulled back for a moment, letting both of the cocks continue to rub against his face. "Are you ready for the finale?" he said.
In response, the monitor lizard pulled on the horns, a gentle yank demanding no more delays. With a nod that Dipak couldn't see, Kamal grabbed both of the cocks in his right hand, pinning them together. His mouth gingerly opened wider than before, teeth pulled back to ensure no pain in their entrance. He took them inch by inch, his tongue lapping at the length within his mouth, until Dipak was fully hilted within.
The monitor lizard sighed. It was so wet, so warm, so tight, so right. His hips bucked harder and harder, the king slightly gagging at the mass pushing down his throat. That wasn't enough to deter him. He leant into Dipak's demands, his right hand resting on the monitor lizard's thigh for support.
"Not bad," Dipak grunted between thrusts. "Maybe I am ready to let go."
Hearing permission to finish the act, the king picked up the pace yet again, with one crucial change. His left hand's pointer finger circled Dipak's hole one last time and pushed through to the monitor lizard's gasp. It dug in the tight flesh, working the walls until it found the smooth section and started pushing against it.
With no defenses for the impromptu prostate massage, Dipak's cocks swelled and started dumping their loads into the king's throat. Kamal continued bobbing, letting the accumulated load roll down the back of his tongue. The salty treat was secondary to making his general's body collapse from the exertion.
Not long thereafter, with the monitor lizard all but fully milked, the blowjob came to a halt. Dipak sighed, <abbr title="It had been a bit since the last time he got to fire off into someone else. Fuck. He really needed that.">feeling all too relieved</abbr> and withdrew his shrinking cocks from the king's mouth. The king had already withdrawn his finger from the monitor lizard's ass, and started crawling back to his seat to meet his friend, face to face. When he emerged from the depths, cum caked into his fur around the <abbr title="And a little around his nostrils too.">perimeter of his mouth</abbr>, Dipak gave a knowing smirk.
"Not bad, Kamal, not bad," the general said.
"Not bad? I don't think you have anything left in you!" Kamal protested. "Whatever you have to give is either coating my face or sitting within my stomach. I suppose I should say thanks for the meal, given you gave me such a bounty."
The monitor lizard snorted. "Give me another thirty minutes and I'm sure I can produce another load of a similar volume."
"If we had the time today, we could try it," Kamal countered. "But all we have the time for now is for you to put up or shut up."
He stood up and dragged the table to the side, showing off his sizable erection. Where Dipak needed two cocks to reach a mouthful, Kamal managed with just one.
"You're already that aroused? Looks like it'll be an easy victory for me," Dipak said, gaze fixated on his king's turgid penis. He couldn't look away. It was his duty as a servant of the crown to properly worship the king, and there was certainly <abbr title="Dipak figured they could use a good polishing, even. He wanted to work over that hefty sac until it glistened with saliva. Gems like those deserved to be properly worshiped.">some royal jewels worth admiring.</abbr>
"Hmph. I got off on doing a good job on your knobs, but feel free to admire the fruit of my hard labors."
Dipak licked his lips, his long tongue flicking out as though to intimidate Kamal. If there was one thing the general was confident in, it was his tactics. He'd gotten Kamal's attention through his strength, in his youth, but it was his tactics that got him <abbr title="Now if you asked Dipak if he wanted to be promoted at that point in time, he would have furiously denied that want, but with the blessing of hindsight, nearly twenty-three years later, he had to admit he was well suited to the role. It came with perks. The rumors of the king's interest in men (to the open knowledge of the queen) were, if anything, understated. What was a dream of a young man became reality, because he was willing to reach out and grasp it.">promoted</abbr> to become the general of the kingdom. Now he was prepared to utilize his own brand of bedroom tactics to win this competition.
"I think the current score is 38-35, my favor," the monitor lizard started. He dismounted his chair, and started to slowly crawl over to the king. While Kamal had tried to avail of the table to create intrigue, that was an amateur dicksucker's strategy. Dipak wanted Kamal to know what he was doing. He wanted the king to see as he took every inch of that fat cock into his maw, his tongue gently caressing the full depths of his manhood. He wanted to force his king to see what the depths of pleasure meant.
"That' sounds about right, but who's counting?" Kamal said. Dipak craved hearing the chuckle that dropped from his king's lips. It wasn't the moans that made his heart flutter. It wasn't the (once) well sculpted body, although that certainly wasn't a problem. Those gorgeous brown eyes certainly could steal a breath away, but it was Kamal's laughter that had made him choose to enlist in the army in his childhood.
When the young prince had <abbr title="Kamal's father wanted his son to get a sense of the people he was working for. 'You must never forget,' he had said. 'You aren't the kingdom. They are. Your job is to make them happy.' That lesson stuck with the king. He reckoned he was fortunate to have a father with such a clear understanding of how power was meant to be used.">toured the outskirts of the kingdom</abbr>, Dipak had thought he would always be tethered to the family farm.
But when the clumsy monitor lizard <abbr title="Dipak had been going through the underbrush trying to get a sneak peak at the royal family; Kamal had wished to go further than his father had suggested, seeing his citizens in a more clandestine manner. Fate took them along the same path, and then the kingdom was forever changed from that meeting nearly forty years ago.">clashed</abbr> with the young prince who had snuck away, his life was inexorably changed in ways he could never have expected.
Dipak had apologized profusely, but Kamal just laughed. "It was my fault," he had admitted, so many years ago. That very laughter, that admission of fault--those had convinced Dipak that he could no longer be a farmer. He would do whatever he could for his king, if only to hear that laughter again, that soft ringing throughout the air.
Now he was blessed to keep aiming for that smile, those peals of laughter, that honest to a fault king. Even if he couldn't admit he was worse at sucking cock. As faults went, well, that was a rather mild one. He could forgive his king this mild transgression, especially given he was about to put him in his place.
He had finally arrived in front of his king, making eye contact with those gorgeous brown eyes. The monitor lizard rose to his knees, resting his hands on Kamal's beefy thighs, demurely taking the king's scepter into his mouth. The nilgai groaned at the contact; all that Dipak had done was have his tongue flit out and curl around the very tip in a gentle caress. It was a tender, careful act of respect, lathering the king's cock with all the reverence it deserved.
He gradually advanced, mouth rushing to meet the tip of the cock and gently envelop it. His stare was still unbroken. For all that he defended the nation as the general, the one who carried the weight of the kingdom on his back sat above him. Those kingdom-bearing shoulders carried too much stress. Dipak would do anything he could to help alleviate the king's burden, if only for a moment.
His fist reached out to meet the end of Kamal's cock, gently stroking it while he dipped back and forth at the end. His tongue continued to writhe and caress the tip, the <abbr title="The virtue of being the regular blowjob giver meant knowing the weak spots of his 'opponent'.">most sensitive part of his king.</abbr> Frankly, Dipak knew it was a matter of time. There was too much stress within the king. He didn't have the capacity to resist for too much longer.
As though proving his point, Kamal squirmed at the engagement, his balls already starting to retract closer to his body. The monitor lizard took this opportunity to pull away from the fat cock, and let it rub against his face as he <abbr title="And even then he maintained eye contact with the king. The purpose of this exercise was knowing that it was because of him. All for him. This was what he deserved.">slid down the side of the meat</abbr> and let his tongue caress the king's heavy coin purse. They carried a heady scent, the monitor lizard's nostrils flaring to take it all in. His own pair of cocks started to emerge from his slit, summoned by his desire for his king.
Kamal was accustomed to being pampered, but not with such a tender approach. He shuddered, tip of his cock trickling a steady river of pre cum, dripping onto the monitor lizard's scales.. It wouldn't take much more to set off the king. Dipak reluctantly pulled back from the balls, his tongue trailing the length of Kamal's cock until he arrived back at the head, and dived back in, lapping up the salty stream. The nilgai shivered, his whole body tensed from the pleasure.
Dipak pulled off of his cock once again, and in his most pleading tone said,"Come on, cum for me."
Before Kamal could even respond he latched back onto the cock, taking it deeper and deeper with each pass, his tongue caressing the meat. The king reached out for the monitor lizard's head, and gently pushed him further and further down until he had hilted within his general's mouth and groaned, his cock swelling with each shot of cum.
Kamal trembled, gently caressing Dipak's face. Not once had they broken eye contact throughout the whole blow job, even as his balls churned, spewing pulse after pulse of cum down the general's gullet. With practiced ease, none of it spilled from Dipak's lips, all swallowed until nothing more trickled out of Kamal.
The monitor lizard pulled back and smacked his lips. "Thanks for the snack, Kamal."
"Well fuck," the king replied. "You definitely won that."
"I did. That makes it 39-35. But who's counting?"
"But who's counting indeed..."
The pair laughed, Dipak raising himself off the ground to a standing position, Kamal joining him. The two gravitated closer, and embraced, their lips locking for a short, tender kiss, before breaking apart to only touch head-to-head.
"I shouldn't have gone with something that favored you," Kamal grumbled.
"You just wanted to be blown, didn't you?"
The corner of the king's mouth rose. "Maybe. Maybe."
"Makes sense. I do give the best blowjobs."
"After that one, I can't disagree."
The nilgai let go of the hug and started looking around the room for his garments, unsure of where he put them. Dipak shook his head and pointed to the corner where they were all neatly folded. "Can't believe you forgot the preparation we did," the monitor lizard said. "It's not like we change it. We always do it like this."
"And I always come out of the meeting with an empty head, so that might explain why I always forget," Kamal said, winking back at his general. He started putting on his clothing, unable to afford much more time to spend away from the other pressing matters. He could only <abbr title="She had her own free time, that he didn't want to disrupt. She deserved it for the hard work she did for their country.">impose so much on his wife.</abbr>
"I hope that you won't forget you still have to consult with Niraj, Itri and Indra. They're all involved, one way or another," Dipak said, shaking his head. He gathered his clothing but didn't put it on just yet. There was something freeing about baring it all.
"Oh dear, you're right. Thanks for the reminder. You're too good to me, Dipak."
"Of course I am," the monitor lizard said, a blush heavy on his cheeks. "Now go get cleaned up before you do anything else. You still have remnants of me on your cheeks."
"Right, right, we wouldn't want anyone to get jealous..." Kamal trailed off. He headed out the door to the meeting room, away from the stench of semen and sweat, no matter how much he wished to linger.
Dipak shook his head, and offered a silent prayer, hopeful that his son would handle Asha with grace once the crisis came to pass. [[But he trusted his son, and knew Amit could handle anything thrown at him.]][[But he trusted his son, and knew Amit could handle anything thrown at him.]]"Don't be absurd, Amit," Asha said, blinking rapidly at the sudden betrayal. Her words rapidly came out of her mouth, like she was reciting from memory a prepared speech. If not for the panic in her voice, she would have come off as completely in control. "You were present for most of those events. You saw the awful things Lady Chandra did. You heard her uncouth claims. You could see how much I was affected by those acts."
"I was present, true, but little of what Chandra did was questionable. Your reactions were vastly out of scope for the acts Chandra perpetrated. Perhaps she could have done something different, to be more accommodating, but you could have listened to the advice she was giving, instead of trying to flirt with me instead of learning how to do your duties."
A hushed whisper passed throughout the crowd, tongues rapidly gallivanting over the latest revelations.
"B-but, you liked my teasing," Asha pleaded. It had to be true that Amit liked them. He never asked her to stop.
"You're the Holy Maiden. I'm but the son of the general, a position that confers no social benefits other than those I can gain from standing in my father's shadow. What I could have said to you could have turned your ire towards me, so that I would be standing in the same position as Lady Chandra, of whom I owe a grave apology for not acting earlier when I knew of Asha's foul intentions."
Chandra nodded, her lips tightly pressed together.
"This is absurd," Asha protested. "You were all for this plan, and now you're turning your back on me?"
"Did you ever have my back?" the monitor lizard replied.
The Holy Maiden ground her teeth, her whiskers twitching with indignation. If not for her light fur, her blush may have remained hidden. "Fine. I don't know what's gotten into you, Amit, but if you don't wish to support me, so be it. There are others who cared for me more than you did, which evidently was a very low bar to cross."
The snow leopard snarled, extending and retracting her claws. One was pointed for the monitor lizard to back off, Amit acquiescing to her silent request. Space was the least of what he could give the Holy Maiden given this was going to be the start of her worries for the day.
She still clung to Kiran, desperate for some structure in her trying time. She wouldn't let him go, that much was certain. She was the Holy Maiden and he was the Herald of the Next Age. They were meant to be together, that much she knew. Even if everything else was uncertain, she had utter and absolute faith in how at least one ending was supposed to be.
"What about you, Ife? Given your position in the kingdom, you'll support me, won't you?" It was a bold accusation, to call out the son of the head judge for his guidance.
Ife's copper feathers glinted with sunlight, the overhead opening casting him in an unwitting spotlight. He was accustomed to being the center of attention, but this wasn't the manner he would have hoped for. And yet, it wasn't unexpected. He knew it would come to this when he had spoken with Kiran two weeks ago.
The speckled pigeon stepped forward, his draped fabrics shifting in line with his step. He had a plunging neckline down to his midriff, revealing his gray underbelly, his legs covered in sandals that crept up to his calf. When <abbr title="Ife and his father had arrived when he was but a young chick, but his friendship with Kamal and the prince's circle was effortless.">he was younger</abbr>, he'd felt out of place, but in his adult years he finally owned the looks that were right for him instead of trying to match the fashion of the court exactly to the existing trends.
There used to be a time where he abhorred having any attention on him. Now? It felt right. It was merited. Why shouldn't the court keep their eyes on him? He knew he was gorgeous; he preened his feathers each day to ensure he got the attention he deserved.
And yet, this wasn't why he was in the focus; no, he was cast into the court's attention by the machinations of the Holy Maiden and her immeasurable greed.
No matter how much she trailed him throughout the court, he wished nothing less than to be bereft of her attention. He'd spent too long attempting to stand out on his own terms, only to be pulled into the whirlpool of attention drowning the Holy Maiden. And yet, there was little he could do to rebuke her attempts up until this point.
"Why would I notice?" he scoffed, his beak downturned at Asha. "You were the one trailing after me like a mewling kitten. My interactions with Lady Chandra were nothing less than typical befitting a lady of her station."
"W-what?" the snow leopard stuttered. "But we spent so much time learning together in the library."
"I was busy reading up on the laws my father helps enforce, while you were trying to entice me to speak with you instead of studying the records of our kingdom's last Holy Maiden. You were treating your duties like a joke, content to try and live out your noble fantasy. For someone that came from nothing, you seem to have quickly forgotten what it was like to be at such a low stature."
"Ife!" Her solitary call out wasn't enough to impede him from continuing.
"The few times Chandra was also in our vicinity--and I do reluctantly say 'our' as you followed me about incessantly--you went out of your way to try and stir up some trouble with her. She was doing nothing less than her duty as the future queen, but you weren't content with that."
"She was spending her time gossiping and besmirching my honor," Asha seethed. "How could you claim otherwise? Has she gotten to you? What are you bribing Ife with, your body?"
"Bold claims for the one that throws herself at anyone that offers her a shred of attention."
"Ife..." Kiran said, finally joining the conversation. "You may say nothing but the truth in this discovery. I would ask that you refrain from making any value judgments too."
"Nothing but the truth?" Asha echoed. She turned to look at the prince, reality finally kicking in for the first time that day.
Ife locked eyes with his prince, thinking back to what they had discussed two weeks prior. [[They had tried to lay out a plan of action with their parents, to ensure that all was properly dealt with.]]
In a manner most unbecoming of Ife, he had forgotten what day it was. It would behoove him to know better for the future, when he would have to fulfill a similar role alongside Kiran, but for the moment, his ignorance could be overlooked. He had more pressing matters on his mind than a routine meeting with supplicants.
Itri and Kamal had already left for the reception room when their children snuck into a secret passage. They were running late, as it was. Ostensibly <abbr title="Where Ife wore garments as a means of expression, they were nothing more than a professional requirement for Itri. His garments matched his station, but that was purely by Kamal's request. If he had his way, he'd be wearing simple linen cloths. The law didn't care for how one dressed, in the end. His form was lean--he hadn't been present during the war. His escape of his home country lined up perfectly with the empire, and there was no one better suited to assist in restoring order than his calculated mind. It wasn't to say he wasn't attractive, but it was his personality that won people over before his body, his stern attitude turning many heads.">Itri</abbr> was there for legal confirmation for how Kamal could resolve some issues, although how that was reflected wasn't always transparent for the supplicants.
After the war, Kamal had stared at his kingdom, looking out over the side of his balcony. He saw the wounds left behind, scars in the flesh of his kingdom and embedded in the heart of his people. For everyone that came back, others still never came home. There are too many citizens to know the exact woes, too many who might slip through the cracks that his overarching policies might attempt to heal.
In a flash of <abbr title="Or perhaps foolishness, as some might suggest, although Kamal would deny that claim. It was important to do what he could, in whatever means worked best.">insight</abbr>, he had decided to have a monthly lottery to give citizens a chance to have their unresolved matters heard. Anyone who put in would have a chance to be seen and even those who weren't selected would have their issues expedited for review. There were further intricacies to the practice that Kiran and Ife would have to learn one day, but for the moment, those were Kamal and Itri's burdens to bear.
"Come on, Kamal," Itri urged. His feathers stood on end, the stress of the moment getting to him. That meeting with their sons had run over far too late, albeit it was easy to defend why. All matters regarding the Holy Maiden were of the utmost importance. Anything they did regarding her had to be in accordance with the law; her status gave her some measure of benefits which had to be properly examined within the context.
After the talk he was confident that Ife could lead the boys towards an appropriate path, but that meant they had no real prep time for the day's topics. While Itri knew them all, Kamal usually required some extra time to get a proper measure of the situation, as he wanted all the judgements to come from his hands.
"Would you prefer we postpone the hearing?"
The nilgai shook his head rapidly, a frown sitting on his lips. "No, no. We reserve postponements for important matters, not issues of my own devising."
"Then how are you going to handle this? Deferring giving judgment until after you've reviewed further?"
"Itri, I can't afford to treat my people any different due to my own failings." A pained look crept onto the king's face, his eyes locked onto the speckled pigeon.
"What would you ask of me then?" Itri started. There was no way Kamal would be able to handle the crowd without his assistance, but it wouldn't be appropriate for him to essentially give his unsolicited opinion on each item. He was meant to occasionally chime in, not guide the king in what manner he saw fit, and if he had to give explanations on everything his bias would inevitably bleed in. For all that Itri was the trusted legal advisor in this situation, Kamal would still make decisions that weren't outright conventional, as he saw best fit to resolve the matter. From there, Itri would often have to try and navigate how that fit into the legal framework. It was a challenge, but a welcome one for his skills.
But with all that known to Itri, the question of how he could give only a small measure of guidance would be a difficult tightrope to walk without any further restrictions in place.
"What would you say if we were to have you divulge the information in a more surreptitious manner?" the king started.
"Go on," Itri said, his feathers standing on edge. He had an idea of where Kamal would go with this, and it wasn't one he particularly approved of. Usually he refrained from mixing business with pleasure.
"I figure we can go about this one of two ways," Kamal continued.
[["We can have you under the table giving some guided advice."]]
=="Or you can stand behind me and deliver some subtle cues for items I may be missing.==
After a particularly fruitful conversation about what the law covered, Kamal, Kiran, Ife and Itri left the room they had been occupied for the last hour.
"I think we've got a better approach on how to deal with the Holy Maiden, now," Kiran said, confidence dripping from his words.
"I certainly hope so," the king replied, tousling his son's fur in between his horns.
Ife had always admired that level of closeness the king and the prince had. He knew his father loved him, but the way it was expressed was different. He didn't know if his father could even be vulnerable with anyone, not after the <abbr title="Itri didn't say much about what happened in the old country. He gleaned the overarching situation through eavesdropping on the discussions of global affairs, listening from behind pillars when he was too small to be noticed. Just quiet breaths, focused ears, waiting to finally understand why they left their home. Why he could barely remember what his mother looked like. Why wasn't she there with them? Years later, the academic books would provide a poor substitute for the context Itri still refused to share with his son."> passing of his mother.</abbr> Whatever friendship existed between the king and his judge seemed superficial, at most, but he wasn't going to spend his waking hours praying for a friendship as close as his and Kiran's for <abbr title="What he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. Itri couldn't help but marvel at the naivety of his child, but perhaps that was his fault. He didn't know how to do better after all this time, no matter how much Kamal and the others encouraged him. He only hoped his deep love for his son came across after all these years.">his father and the king.</abbr>
"Come along then. We'll let you be on your way," Kiran said, motioning for Ife to follow him. They had nowhere else to be other than by their fathers. It already was a smothering conversation in their presence. For all that his father cared, sometimes that care was too close.
It was prudent to confirm their plans for dealing with Asha, especially given her role in the kingdom, but the king had wanted to go over every exact detail with his legal counsel present. Every single action had to be scrutinized, even the ones that seemed like they logically couldn't cause any legal issues. At least, that's how Kiran felt, but he usually relied on Ife for these matters, especially given he was an involved party with the Holy Maiden's antics.
"Can we go to the library?" Ife grumbled. "I want to review what I've found regarding the prior Holy Maiden and see if that could explain this one's behavior. I'd like to be as prepared as possible."
"Want to go through one of the secret passageways?" Kiran asked, a wide smile on his face. His eyes glinted with an impish glee.
"You know they're not that secret if you keep bringing them up, right?" the speckled pigeon said, shaking his head.
"That's not a 'no'."
"Fine," he grumbled. The pair darted down a hallway, no others in sight, Kiran conjuring the faintest hint of his blessing to his fingertip. In a display too fast to track, he swiped his index finger against the wall. It shimmered and receded into the rest of the bricks, revealing a <abbr title="There were faint slits in the walls, large enough to let outside light filter in, but small to blend into the brick patchwork on the other side, and that didn't even account for the rotes in place keeping the passages hidden for those outside of the royal family (and whoever they let in). It was intended to be an escape route for the royal family if need be, per Kiran, but it was more likely to be used to take a shortcut or to avoid a certain clingy Holy Maiden.">dimly lit passage</abbr> trawling further through the palace.
It wasn't their first trek, nor was it their last, but it was still exciting each time they passed through. No one knew they were there. They could do <abbr title="Mostly anything.">anything</abbr>, if they wanted to, and they often had before. Sometimes the other boys were present as they wandered down the secret hallways, and sometimes it was just the two of them. Ife didn't judge what Kiran did with the others. He had his own fun with them. There wasn't any room to obsess over matters like that when Kiran was engaged to Lady Chandra.
"Should we try to see what the others are doing?" teased Kiran.
"We shouldn't... we need to resolve this matter with Asha, and we need more information for it," Ife grunted. But then he locked eyes with Kiran, the nilgai pleading just with his gaze alone. "Fine. As long as it's relatively on the way. No major detours."
"I'm amenable to that," Kiran quipped, running on ahead. The speckled pigeon shook his head and <abbr title="He could have sworn he told him to reserve running and other similar activities for Kiran's time with Amit, but here they were again, dashing through the secret passageway.">darted after the prince.</abbr>
Their soft footsteps carried poorly throughout the hallway; the passage was designed as to <abbr title="This was reinforced with another set of rotes. Kiran had proposed that perhaps it was dangerous to have a passage where no one could hear who was within it, in the off chance someone broke in, but the king had rebuffed the claim. 'If they're broken into the secret passage, we have bigger problems than not being able to hear them.' It made sense, but that didn't make it reassuring.">not let sound pass outside of it.</abbr> Within a brief minute of frantic pacing, Kiran motioned for Ife to join him at the peephole.
They stood shoulder to shoulder, each taking a disguised eye to look out into the chapel, but no one was there. The speckled pigeon turned to Kiran and raised an eyebrow, only to be met with a sheepish grin and shrug, before the prince ran off again. "Do you even have an idea of where anyone is?" Ife asked, lightly panting.
The nilgai shook his head, not bothering to linger to respond and took off again, Ife following shortly thereafter with a sigh muffled in his beak. When they arrived at the next peephole, Ife laid his hand on his friend's shoulder. "If we don't find anyone here we care about, we're doing something else, alright? I was amenable to this if it was purposeful, not if it was aimless."
The prince pursed his lips, looking back and forth between Ife and the peepholes before sighing, a hint of a smile on his lips. "Fine, fine. Let's see what's there."
They stood side by side, the slight stench of <abbr title="Mostly from Ife. This was more exertion than he normally did in a day, although Kiran was going fast enough to have a few beads of sweat drip down his forehead. As much as Ife wanted to pretend he kept up, it was more that Kiran slowed down to remain in sight when going through the winding passages."> sweat filling the air</abbr> from their close proximity, eyes pressed against the holes to the resounding sight of nothing, not even a room, but just darkness.
"Kiran?"
"Yes, Ife?"
"Why are we seeing darkness?"
"I think these holes are behind a tapestry."
"The big one, that covers basically the whole wall of the throne room?"
"Yes."
"...Can we just go to the library then?" Ife pleaded. It wasn't that he hated spending time with his prince--the speckled pigeon valued nothing more than spending time with his best friend--but he did hate inefficient usage of time. There were only so many hours in a day. They couldn't be squandered over actions with <abbr title="What that exactly meant to Ife was not easily understandable by his friends, but they had discerned what activities were worth spending time on, so they didn't need to figure out the distinction. As long as they stuck to what worked, then they were both having a good time.">no purpose.</abbr>
"I have another idea for fun though."
Ife raised a singular eyebrow. He'd heard Kiran's ideas before. They tended to only go one place, the prince not well practiced at coming up with other ideas, and Ife couldn't blame him. He quite enjoyed the romps the prince took him on, as long as they had some sort of purpose.
"I'm listening," he offered.
[["Let me play with the peepholes here."]]
=="There's something interesting in that passage a few turns down from here.=="Play with the peepholes? How?" Ife inquired. He'd never heard of anything like that being done before, although that didn't mean much. He didn't have a blessing like the others, so anything mystical was out of his reach other than from a legal perspective.
"There's some parameters... if one adjusts the active and the sub-routine rotes... it's hard to explain," Kiran said. His fingers glowed as they interfaced with the glyphs that composed the rotes bound to the wall.
"In layman's terms?"
"I can change the parameters on the peepholes."
The speckled pigeon tapped his foot, arms crossed. "Meaning?"
"Meaning, we can do something fun with it. Just watch!"
Ife hated being told to 'just watch', but the last few times the prince had told him to do so, the results had been entertaining. He could deign to watch once again. His feathers had been standing on edge, but with a few deep breaths they fell back against his skin, anger managed for the moment.
True to his word, something curious did happen. The two peepholes slid through the brick wall, merging into one larger hole and dropping down from their eye level height. In turn, the wall slid back, and Kiran disappeared through the opening, the wall sliding back in place leaving Ife behind.
"The fuck?" he muttered. "Does he want me to look and see how he changed things?" With a sinking suspicion, the speckled pigeon went to his knees, and drew his eyes in front of the larger hole, where a special visitor lay in wait for him.
"How did he get hard already?" he muttered, seeing his prince's fat cock poking through the resized hole. "Must be getting off on the thrill of potentially being caught... I swear, there better be a way out of here without his help, because I'm certainly not getting trapped in here when he's passed out from a proper blowjob."
He couldn't see the nilgai, only the throbbing cock fit through the hole with little room to spare. His talons reached out and grasped the warm meat, gently stroking the visitor. It wasn't as though Kiran could hear him, so he could <abbr title="Kiran couldn't be allowed to have his head swell in a similar capacity to his cock. His ego was swollen enough as it was. He didn't need more praise.">praise his prince's fat cock out of earshot.</abbr>
"Damn. <abbr title="That was a lie. At least, it was a lie to himself. He'd seen it before, and yet he was amazed each time he saw it. A penis that large came about once in a lifetime, not that Ife could quite compare.">I can't believe you're this big," Ife whispered.</abbr>
The feathers on his head rose to mirror his rising interest. He <abbr title="He could.">couldn't believe</abbr> that Kiran was doing this. He <abbr title="He could.">couldn't believe</abbr> the audacity of his prince. He <abbr title="He could.">couldn't believe</abbr> that Kiran would risk getting caught. And yet, he wanted nothing less than to play along. He needed something to take the edge off--what else if not a tasty cock to slobber on. Ife deserved it, after his repeated interactions with Asha. If he wasn't going to relax in the library over a nice book, a thick cock in his mouth was the next best thing.
He sniffed, taking in the scent of his friend. It was a heady thing, one that already drove his mouth to open, ready to swallow the fat cock in front of him. Enough practice had ensured that he had technique in spades as to not <abbr title="The first time... they were lucky it left no scars. Ife thought he would never live it down.">inadvertently harm</abbr> the prince (nor any of their friends).
His beak opened, his thin tongue giving the prince a warm welcome within the confines of his mouth. It was all about properly navigating the smooth walls in contrast with the hard exterior. Just the slightest hint of pressure constantly pushing down on the rigid meat. Ife didn't even move that much. He let Kiran slide in and out, no doubt thrusting into the glory hole on the other side of the wall. It was easy, to be a willing receptacle, to just sit there like a good vessel. He didn't have to think at all, like this. Just work his mouth and wait for his reward, like the good boy he was.
His pussy started getting wet, fingers trailing down beneath his clothes to dig at his clit. There was nothing hotter than being used like this. It was tiring, always expected to be in control, if by some measure. But this? All control was given away, minus his playing with his clit. He furiously rubbed it to match the sensation of the cock sliding in his mouth, pretending that he was being lavished with the same sort of attention that the nilgai was receiving. It was only fair. He deserved it. He did so much, so damn much and fuck.
The speckled pigeon groaned as his first orgasm hit him, his mouth vibrating from the pleasure. His body shook, waves of desire <abbr title="Not unlike his pussy.">flooding him,</abbr> juices dripping into his pants. Fuck. He forgot to take them off. Too late now, they were already going to need a wash. What was the point in caring? It was easier to just go with the flow and let the sensations overwhelm him.
Of course, that didn't mean Kiran was done. The fun had only started. The prince picked up the pace, evidently snared by the vibrations of Ife's closed-mouth moans. The speckled pigeon didn't know how the others managed to swallow that much cock without a beak. As it was, Kiran took up most of his mouth, pressing against the very edges of his mouth, and frankly, Ife wouldn't have it any other way.
Every time Kiran thrust in, his tongue rushed to accept the delivery, <abbr title="And why wouldn't he? Such a magnificent piece of equipment deserved a corresponding amount of worship. Ife was surprised that Kiran's cock hadn't become the kingdom's new religion, although that was probably for the best. If everyone wanted to worship the prince as he deserved, than it'd be harder for Ife to have a turn, and there already wasn't enough time to do so on a regular basis as it was.">lavishing the royal scepter with all the attention it deserved.</abbr>
He kept at it, starting to bob his head back and forth to increase the stimulation for the trembling cock sitting in his beak. He could taste the <abbr title="Ife liked to joke that cum was all the food he needed, to Amit's chagrin. And yet, the monitor lizard wouldn't disavow being blown, so perhaps there were some benefits to the act after all. Hard to complain when one's balls are emptied, and even more so when Ife felt invigorated after a few loads finally processed within his stomach."> steady stream of pre cum trailing down his throat, his tongue savoring the salty flavor before ushering it down to be swallowed.</abbr>
Fuck. He wanted Kiran's load so bad. He wanted that fat cock to ooze cum down his gullet, warming him up from the inside. He wanted to feel something warm while his fingering his pussy, clenching down on his talons. He wanted attention on both ends, his own fingers not enough, but he couldn't have everything. There was only the two of them. While he could coax a load from Kiran, it'd take too long before he was ready to fire off another one. That was the problem with cocks--they took too long to recharge in between shots. No, Ife had another idea in mind.
His hand trailed down from his clit to his pussy, a finger jabbing inside. It felt good, but not as good as a warm, hot, thick cock would instead. He stopped slobbering on the cock, hoping Kiran would understand his message. This was enough foreplay for the moment. Kiran would have to be satisfied.
He pulled away from the impromptu glory hole and rotated about so his pussy sat inches away from Kiran's cock. He pushed back slightly, so that his pussy lips kissed the meat and then inched forward again. No fun was allowed until he could see the telltale glow of the purification rote encircling the nilgai's cock.
The speckled pigeon looked between his legs, waiting for the dumbass on the other side to figure out what was going on for <abbr title="But was thirty seconds at most.">what felt like a lifetime</abbr> before seeing the prince's royal scepter glow. With the recognition of a job well done, he pushed back, moaning as the tip pushed past his pussy lips.
His finger furiously played with his clit as the cock slowly continued to enter him and stretch out his vaginal walls. For all that Ife had managed to swallow Kiran's cock, his other hole still needed preparation (and that didn't even account for his third hole, which hadn't been prepped in the slightest, and frankly, Ife didn't <abbr title="Ife was kind of a case by case sorta bird when it came to which hole of his he wanted plugged. There had never been anything wrong for him to have two different holes dedicated to pleasure. That was just the kind of man he was, even if it took a bit longer to recognize his own form of manhood. Other's had delectable cocks to fill him with, and in a way, that made him feel more unique amongst his friends. Only he was properly equipped to handle three of them at once, for that rare festive occasion like his birthday, but that was another thing altogether. Fun was ephemeral, like his preparation. His belonging to the group was eternal.">feel like prepping it at all in the moment.)</abbr>
"Oh fuck," he grunted, finally having cause to bemoan his lack of forearm strength, as the struggle to remain upright was tough with the constant slamming from Kiran. His arms burned from the strain, but that paled in comparison to the pleasure of his prince's thrusts. Kiran knew how to fill him up just right, no matter which hole he used. It was as though his cock was perfectly sculpted to fill Ife, his body shaking with each impact.
And yet, for all that Kiran's cock was bringing Ife to the verge of ecstasy, that wasn't the hottest thing about the moment. All that covered the prince from the rest of the palace was a tapestry, and that was no doubt being disrupted by <abbr title="Ass so fast you could bounce a coin off it. Ass so fat it was always asking to be eaten. Ass so fat his cheeks were no doubt clapping while he skulked about.">Kiran's fat ass</abbr> bucking back and forth. It was almost certainly creating ripples in the fabric, easily noticeable to anyone who bothered looking in that direction.
The notion that the pair of them would <abbr title="Well, more realistically it would just be Kiran. Ife was safely ensconced on the other side of the secret passage. It'd just look like Kiran was fucking a hole like the pervert he was.">get caught</abbr> set Ife's loins ablaze. He clung to his prince's cock every time it threatened to leave him, gripping it tightly, desperate to keep the act going. It was divine to act so sinful. Ife needed the prince buried deep with him, frantically fucking him silly while the whole court could stumble onto their act. The thought of Asha seeing Kiran buried shaft deep was delectable, enough to make his body quiver, inadvertently clamping down on the prince's scepter.
The throes of the orgasm shook through Ife, his feathers ruffling at the sensation, a heavy moan dripping from his lips. His hips buckled back, desperate to keep as much of the cock within him as he could, His arms shook, barely able to stand up from the pleasure filling his body and yet he wouldn't give up, not until Kiran shot his load.
Thankfully, experience told him that the prize was all but imminent. The nilgai picked up the pace, having managed to withdraw from Ife's hole in that moment so that he could slam back on in. The royal rod was throbbing, warmth trickling into Ife's insides. It was the telltale sign that the fun would come to a conclusion, not that Ife had a problem with that. There was a time and place for everything, and he did have work to do even if this was a perfect digression from the tasks at hand.
With one last thrust, Kiran went balls deep and let loose within the confines of Ife, the seed messily sloshing about his insides. Maybe if he was a younger man he would have been concerned about the prospect of an illegitimate child, but experience had taught him the <abbr title="That was a particularly messy week, and yet, having gone through it together only reinforced their bonds and confirmed the nature of their relationship as dear friends who like to fuck.">value of contraceptives</abbr> and the value of the purification rote. The prince's seed started to trickle out of his hole, little drops spread out on the irregularly used floor. No one would come through here to clean it up, that much was for certain. The thought that the pair of them would leave their mark in this crucial space was enough to bring Ife to hysterical tears.
He pulled off the wall, hunched over on the ground, unable to do anything about the cum still sloshing out of his pussy onto the ground. The exertion had finally caught up with him, the speckled pigeon panting heavily, all of his energy squandered to the admittedlygrand purpose of a great fucking. Behind him, the wall shifted, and Kiran ran back into the secret passage, his trousers still sitting around his ankles.
"Are you doing alright?" he asked, staring at his collapsed friend.
"P-put your trousers back on," the speckled pigeon grumbled. "Don't wave your royal scepter at me like that."
"Like this?" Kiran replied, a smirk on his lips as he squatted down, his flaccid cock sitting by Ife's beak.
"You know I could bite it, if I wanted to," Ife muttered.
"You didn't earlier, why would you now?"
"Before it was fun, now you're being obnoxious and you stink of your cum and my innards."
"What's wrong with those smells? I think they're pretty alright."
"I don't want them in my face at the moment," Ife replied, rolling away from the prince. He scoured the floor for his trousers, and shimmied them back up his hips, unwilling to even entertain the thought of any more fun with Kiran at the moment. The prince's appetite was unquenchable at times; if he remained with his tail feathers out, it would only have been a matter of time before Kiran's cock rose to the occasion once again, and Ife was done with being fucked for the moment. He'd gotten all he wanted from their exchange, and now he was ready to focus on some work with a clear mind.
"You're no fun," Kiran replied, crossing his arms.
"I think I was just recently filled with your liquid fun, Kiran..."
"Fine, I take your point."
"No, I took your point, over and over, and we both enjoyed it, but now we need to head over to the library and get back to work." Ife started walking, not even sure of where he was going as long as he was going away from where they came from.
"Aright, alright, you're gonna get lost. Let me lead us again," Kiran grumbled, pulling up his trousers and hiding his already stiffening cock again. He jogged down the corridor ahead of the speckled pigeon, motioning for the pair to go down another musty hallway. With no other options available that didn't result in being trapped within the walls until he starved, Ife followed.
After a few <abbr title="Evidently the walls were thicker than Ife realized, if they were fitting all these passages within them. Maybe that's why it took so long to get around the palace; the rest of the space was dedicated for passages that were rarely used, barring horny adults and panicked royalty.">more winding hallways</abbr>, they arrived at another similar wall, Kiran coming to a halt.
"It better be here and not another place to fool around..." Ife grunted.
"You say that like we haven't fooled around in the library before," Kiran said, a wide grin on his face. Just the mere thought of their prior escapades made his cock twitch, the outline showing against his trousers. Ife had to look away, no matter how much his gaze was drawn to his prince's crotch. Cock was ephemeral. Knowledge was forever.
But Kiran was true to his word. The glyphs flowed out of his fingers, flooding into the wall. It peeled back, showing a bookshelf, which another set of glyphs sunk into. The bookshelf swiveled aside, all of the books firmly latched in place. Thankfully the library seemed empty, which made sense. Access to the royal library was limited to a select group of people that somehow included Kiran in spite of his proclivities.
"Alright, I set aside some books last time. Do whatever it is you want as I read up on the last Holy Maiden," the speckled pigeon said. With one glance at the next bookshelf he already knew where he was, countless hours spent within this room giving him an <abbr title="Not unlike his deep knowledge of Kiran and his other friends twig and berries, albeit for entirely different purposes.">"intimate familiarity."</abbr> Whatever Kiran would do wouldn't matter, unless he deigned to distract Ife from his research and by this point in their friendship Ife expected Kiran to <abbr title="Of course, knowing better isn't quite the same as acting upon it, but he had a few ways to put Kiran in his place, if need be.">know better.</abbr>
Thankfully, the prince distracted himself, leaving Ife to freely peruse the annals of the last <abbr title="It wasn't even to find it. It was buried deep within the library, hidden within another book that hadn't been touched for decades, if not longer. Ife wasn't sure if it had been there the whole time or more recently hidden, but the important thing was he found the tome.">Holy Maiden. </abbr>
There was a lot of interesting, but not quite relevant information within the journal. Mostly the hints at how her blessing manifested. If what it said was true, then there was room to be concerned. They needed to do some testing to verify his results, but he wasn't equipped to do so. But perhaps, that was best left for Kiran and Rishi to verify, once he sufficiently put together a hypothesis for them.
In the interim, Ife hoped that whatever else it was that his father and the king had to discuss was bearing more fruit. Kiran had practically lost <abbr title="Other than the desire to fuck more, which was understandable but not helpful.">all his motivation</abbr> after blowing his load.
Perhaps things were going better [[elsewhere in the castle.]]
[[elsewhere in the castle.]] Itri rolled his eyes. Both of the options weren't quite the optimal way of handling the situation, but if there was one thing he'd learned throughout his years of working with the King, it was that sometimes his upper head worked better when his lower head was preoccupied.
"Very well then," he grunted. "You'll have to help sneak me under the table then."
Sure, the table the king sat behind would hide him from sight, but there was usually a long line of supplicants already present in the room. The game wouldn't be effective in the same manner if they were aware of Itri's presence, and he didn't have a blessing to facilitate such an act on his own.
The nilgai grumbled. "You know I'm not the best at subtle rotes," he said, the glyphs awakening around his fingers.
"You don't have to be the best at it," Itri said, patiently walking through the <abbr title="There was something reassuring in treading the same beats over and over. A familiarity, the very sameness a reminder that they still had that playful spirit no matter how much older they got, and they could only continue to get older. The banter was like a beacon to come back to. This sort of conversation would only die when their libidos died or peace was fully present and not a moment sooner. That irony wasn't lost on them either, yet another thing to laugh about, and they certainly could use a laugh.">same conversation</abbr> they'd had throughout the years. "It only has to last long enough to get me into position. No one else will see me from there."
"Flawless logic from you, as always," Kamal replied. The glyphs swirled from his fingertip into a phrase, the meaning indistinguishable to the speckled pigeon. It lined up at the end like a key; the king pointed his finger at his advisor, the rote flowing into his companion. Normally vibrant feathers lost color altogether, as Itri became translucent.
"Go on now. It'll last three minutes at most, and it's apt to end even sooner. This one requires active concentration, and how am I supposed to concentrate on what's coming next?" the King said.
Itri rolled his eyes, not that the King could see him. He followed after his liege through the open door, sneaking on past on light talons, scooting underneath the table where the King <abbr title="And yet, for this instance, Itri would receive the King's member in his mouth.">received the various members of the kingdom.</abbr> At least, that would be the case after Kamal properly greeted them.
"Welcome, my beloved citizens. It's another day, which means it's another opportunity for all of us to do our best. Come along. Let's see what we can do."
Kamal slid into the seat, foot nudging the <abbr title="To him, that is. And select guards behind the King, but they were used to those proclivities. It was almost a requirement to ignore them to work as part of the royal guard.">now visible</abbr> speckled pigeon. Itri rolled his eyes again, a display solely for his own sake, lest words escape his lips. He inched closer to his King and pulled down the man's breeches, the nilgai's fat cock flopping in front of his face.
Of course, the King wore no underwear today. Of course, Itri was in a position to take a good sniff of the royal scepter and jewels. He'd have to have a stern word with his King later, but for now, it was time to get to work. He kept his hands resting upon the nilgai's thick thighs, trying to avoid the temptation of playing with himself while speaking. Any release would have to come after the work was done, and there was quite the queue on the other side of the desk, from what he recalled viewing.
While the King took on the first supplicant, Itri started his task at hand. His beak slid against the King's coin purse, and he took a deep sniff of Kamal's natural scent. That heavenly musk was almost enough to make him want to take the King right then and there, but he was there for work first, and pleasure secondly, even if it felt the other way around.
Instead, his tongue gingerly reached out, cupping the King's nuts, one at a time. He left a trail of saliva against the King's fur, suckling on them as gently as he could given his beak. This was the system they had established in the past for items like these: <abbr title="They had practiced enough to know whose perspective the directions were oriented towards. It took a lot of practice that the pair was happy to conduct.">left nut was a confirmation of whatever was going on, right nut was a rejection. It wasn't a perfect system, but Kamal knew how to fish about enough to give Itri time to adjust the course of the conversation. The rest was borne of trust and knowledge, bonds forged in the hardest of times.</abbr> This instance of lavishing attention was merely the indication that the system would be in effect.
The virtue of working with Kamal for so long was that the King was well equipped to handle most inquiries. He had enough experience over the years <abbr title="And that doesn't even take into account his time during the war. It wasn't as though Kamal was wholly ignorant. He was just wise enough to know when to rely on others' superior knowledge.">ruling the kingdom</abbr>. That experience meant that Itri only had to listen for instances of confusion, otherwise able to focus on pleasing his King.
He took the nilgai's fat cock into his beak, tongue gently draping against the length. The royal jewels gently sat upon the outside of his beak, the speckled pigeon taking great care to ensure that no damage was done. Only pleasure. Fellating his lord was almost effortless, in that way. Days of practice bore the expected results, his body almost functioning purely by muscle memory while he made sure that the King said nothing wrong.
Other than the fat cock twitching on Itri's tongue, nothing of the King's demeanor betrayed the attention he was being lavished with. He knew this was merely teasing from Itri, his advisor too focused to let fun get in the way of work, even if he had acquiesced to Kamal's command.
As much as the speckled pigeon <abbr title="The king's foot reached out, brushing against his advisor's crotch, feeling the erection straining against the cloth. Itri, ever the consummate professional, would not touch it prior to the last supplicant's departure. He'd trained himself--a strange skill, if one were to ask any of the other members of the King's confidants--to send his mind away, so that he would cum no sooner than the moment merited. None of the others could manage the feat, nor would they want to. Half of the fun was letting loose, so that they could then play again shortly thereafter with renewed vigor. As such, Kamal felt emboldened to tease his loyal subject, his hoof rubbing in tandem to the efforts upon his fat cock."> also enjoyed the act</abbr>, he would still remain professional in every way.
The speckled pigeon pulled back from the cock, reluctantly letting the royal scepter slip off his tongue, relishing the taste of the salty pre that pooled at the tip. He let it slide against his feathers, skinny tongue darting to cup the nilgai's heavy nuts. Each lick of the royal coin purse was another opportunity to lap at the faintest beads of sweat.
For a while, none of the items required any particular assistance, Itri teasing his king with occasional engulfing of the nilgai's meat, but nothing prolonged enough to allow for sweet release. But then a particularly difficult ask arose, his king's body tense prior to any words passing his lips. The speckled pigeon set his body to fully focus on the act, prepared to guide his liege as needed.
"My lord."
Oh fuck. It was <abbr title="There was only one him. There were many men in the King's life, but only one would be so... informally addressed. Only one could cause such difficulties. Only one would be so brazen to try and address matters at a time like this.">him.</abbr> The Holy Maiden's guardian. Piara.
He couldn't be her father, for the Holy Maiden came out of nowhere, or so it seemed. None of the king's men could find any hide nor hair of her existence prior, but the Holy Temple had gleefully confirmed her status with their rotes. They looked nothing alike, barring the shared species--in every way the Holy Maiden looked pure, demure, refined, whereas he was stout, haggard, coarse.
Kamal wasn't going to be the first generation to deny the position of the Holy Temple, especially with his son's own position in theology, but he'd done what he could to limit the powers they had. They had spent too much time <abbr title="It was easy to beg for mercy off to the side. It was easy to stay out of the way. Inaction in a war benefits only the entity in the position of power. They were ready for whatever regime shift happened, and Kamal would never forget their attempts at claiming they were above base struggles. They certainly weren't above asking for donations at the villages toiling away to provide food for the front lines.">crying for peace during the war</abbr>, when they had the capacity to give back so much more. They couldn't be trusted.
"Piara. What a pleasure to see you."
Of course, he was lying through his teeth, but Itri could tell with any additional cues needed. They were on the same page when it came to Piara and his ilk. This... this would take the utmost care. The speckled pigeon would have stopped the game altogether, if not for the hand of his king, resting on the back of his head underneath the table. Were there better ways to handle this situation? Undoubtedly. Was there illicit pleasure in accepting pleasure while dealing with a most distasteful personage? Certainly.
"The honor is mine, your majesty." That was true, although Kamal refrained from reiterating the fact.
"What can I do for you? What <abbr title="Kamal knew he coerced a winning ticket from someone else, not that he could force Piara to admit it. It wouldn't do any good to confront the matter. Whoever gave up their ticket would be convinced it was the right thing to do, for the sanctity of the country, and if Piara had any conscious to him, he would try and resolve their matter to the best of his capacities.">good fortune</abbr> you had to have your matter chosen by luck!"
"The divine truly does smile on me, my King." There was no warmth to his words, just a rigid belief holding up his indomitable faith.
"What I want to know is what will be done with the Holy Maiden. How will the kingdom properly acknowledge her? How can we ensure that her position is properly respected by all the people?"
The air grew still. It was brazen to bring up such a matter in public, let alone in such a prideful demeanor. The audacity to demand further praise, if not more, for the newly found Holy Maiden.
Kamal showed <abbr title="A practice that Itri couldn't say he personally knew, commonly unable to walk away properly after a personal encounter with the king. Weak legs were the least he could complain about thereafter.">restraint</abbr>. "What do you mean to say by that, Piara? What more would you ask? We've acknowledged her as meeting the criterion laid out by the prophecies. Her mastery over her blessing is truly astounding, and her manipulation of the rotes leaves many ashamed in turn. What else would you have?"
Itri lavished his king's hefty left nut with attention, pleased with the direction his king was taking. They couldn't properly address whatever farce Piara was presenting without further information. On the top of his head Itri could feel the warm meat slowly twitching, trickling faint dribbles of pre onto his feathers. Yet another mess of the king's that he'd have to clean up. Typical.
"Why, there's not just one person in the prophecy, your majesty. There's two."
Itri could feel the rage leaking from his king, his body suddenly ablaze. The king's leaned over the table, his free hand underneath dragging the speckled pigeon to the end of his <abbr title="If there was one other thing that got the nilgai going, it was a fervent rage, although that was usually saved for later in the day, not the heat of the moment.">furiously leaking cock.</abbr>
Understanding what was asked of him, the speckled pigeon hastened to work, stealthily swallowing the cock. The warm meat slid past his beak effortlessly, his tongue lathering the fat cock with affection from within the confines of his mouth. Every breath through his nostrils just filtered in more of that delectable scent emanating from his king, his own cock demanding attention, not that it would get any. Not until this matter was all <abbr title="And if he was lucky, it would merit some attention from the king, as proper payment for a job well done.">done.</abbr>
"I believe I know very well what you're implying, but I'd like to hear it from your lips," Kamal growled, his hand sitting above the table bunched into a fist.
"Why haven't you put any thought into canceling the engagement between Lady Chandra and Lord Kiran?"
The room grew stiller yet, a feat that Itri had not thought possible. His king's royal coin purse contracted, hovering just the tiniest of distances away from his beak. He understood his duty to absorb his king's passion without letting a drop go past.
The nilgai locked Itri in his thicc thighs and took a heavy breath. His royal essence flooded out from his tip down Itri's welcoming mouth, the speckled pigeon well practiced at relaxing his throat to minimize any spillage. While his cock continued to twitch and spurt within his Legal Chancellor's mouth, all the king presented for the court was a steady exhale through his nostrils.
Just this measure of relief was enough to bring Kamal down from furious to coldly detached. Itri knew that much from experience. "Are you really questioning the reward promised to the duke during the war time? Are you trying to besmirch his house's noble efforts? They sacrificed so much to ensure our nation still stands. There's nothing I could give that would make them whole, but I gave what I could. A promise, a burden upon my own son's head, for the sake of helping heal this nation, and you would rather we moved on past that?"
"No no no, my king, I would never <abbr title="Because it obviously wasn't a try, but a purposefully intended slight.">try</abbr> to besmirch their efforts. But is this what your son wants?"
Kamal shook his head. His thighs released in tandem, the speckled pigeon no longer <abbr title="Not that there was any left at this point. He would support the king in any manner needed. This was a mere token of his respect and love for his king.">forced to drink down his majesty's liquid passion.</abbr> "If my son wishes to respectfully work out some other measure of restitution with the Duke's household, then I will do my best to uphold his wishes and the honor of our kingdom, but I will not force him to engage with the Holy Maiden further than the prophecy notes, and at most, that reflects a working relationship. I hope you understand and will not trouble yourself with any further thoughts along these matters... is that understood?"
The high priest bowed his head, face flat in affect. "Of course, my King. As long as the Holy Maiden is properly accounted for, then anything else is a blessing."
Itri heard him pivot and walk away, the king gently ruffling the feathers on his favorite <abbr title="His only bird chancellor.">bird chancellor.</abbr> There was no longer that form of tension in his majesty's body, but that didn't mean that Itri was done. He knew all too well of <abbr title="GIve the king five minutes and he'd already be back in action. Growing older had only seemed to increase his appetite, his member responding to the slightest provocation. Perhaps that's what it meant to be royalty, to have such a desire.">the limits of Kamal's stamina.</abbr>
With another nudge, the king brought the speckled pigeon's beak back to his balls, the next supplicant already ready moving into place. It was going to be a <abbr title="A massage would be the least of what Kamal would do for him when this day was over. He didn't have the vitality of youth he used to do, to remain in positions such as these.">long day under the table for Itri.</abbr>
---
By the time they got to the back of the line, Itri had only needed to give input for another three citizens, and even their issues were relatively simple to answer compared to the High Priest's. The law was simple, if just tedious to retain. Religion was beyond the speckled pigeon's reach.
What was well within his grasp was his king's cock, however, with an equal amount of loads swallowed therein, each as voluminous as the last. To say that the king didn't enjoy this position would be a falsehood, easily disproved by Itri's <abbr title ="He figured he had to be bloated at this point, not that he could see it. Kamal shot so much down this throat, and he willingly accepted the salty treat. At this point, he could skip dinner for the night, no matter how much Ife would admonish him for doing so.">nearly swollen stomach.</abbr>
Nonetheless, with the reception over, that only left Kamal and his guards... and of course, Itri hidden underneath the table. "Go on ahead," Kamal said. "I'm just going to do some last reviewing here. Write up my action items for my council to take."
The guards wordlessly nodded, accustomed to obeying their King's directives. He was still a formidable fighter and was within the seat of his power. They had nothing to fear. They trickled out of the room, leaving the nilgai with one spare moment to <abbr title="Mostly himself.">himself.</abbr>
"Alright, they're gone. Let's get you out from under there." He offered his hand to the speckled pigeon, who had already started to crawl out. When the king rose to his feet, he pulled his legal chancellor up with him, feathers ruffled in flight.
"I think that was a productive hearing, don't you?" Itri said, smoothing his garments. His cock strained at his pants, a visible damp spot revealing his unresolved tension.
"Certainly for me it was productive. Not every day I get to have five loads fired off in my legal advisor, despite Piara's brazen behavior." He motioned for Itri to follow him, the pair starting to depart the room.
"Right you are, Kamal, right you are." Itri didn't bother bringing attention to his crotch. That would be his own obligation to deal with. His king was a busy man. This brief respite was more about getting Itri safely out, rather than getting a load out of the speckled pigeon. But something the king said tickled the back of his mind. He came to a sudden halt, staring at his king with uncertainty.
"Wait, five loads? It was only four. I should know. I swallowed them all, not a drop left behind."
A wide smile blossomed on the nilgai's face. "Oh, we're not done yet. <abbr title="He had made sure to build time into his busy schedule for this beforehand, not that Itri needed to know so outright. The bird probably presumed it to be the case, but he wasn't going to argue. He enjoyed it just as much as his king did.">Go straight to my bedroom and prepare yourself accordingly."</abbr>
He walked up to Itri and slid his hand to the bird's ass, sliding behind the pants to the smooth feathers and flesh. His finger trailed down the crack to a tight hole, teasing the entrance before withdrawing.
"No touching yourself otherwise. I've had a lot to say, and I need something to quench my thirst, alright?"
"Yes, your majesty," Itri replied, giving a deep bow. He shot out of the room, all sense of decorum lost at the thought of his impending relief. He was definitely going to need a day resting in bed after this, but that would be a small price to pay for more time with his king.
Kamal watched his good friend walk off, eyes locked onto the comely ass. His cock stirred once again, undeterred by its prior efforts. After he buried himself deep within Itri he could get back to work. It was great to have people to work with who were all on the same page.
He just wished that his son would have the [[same level of support that he had with his own men.]]He just wished that his son would have the [[same level of support that he had with his own men.]]"Nothing but the truth," Kiran echoed back. His tone was gentle, dripping in pity. It clung to the Holy Maiden like a cloak, clasped around her neck. She would choke on his disdain if she didn't pull away.
"You're the worst, Kiran." She stepped back, no longer willing to cling to the Herald of the Next Age. He would come around eventually, even if he was willingly debasing himself just to be rude to her.
The speckled pigeon shook his head, stepping half a step closer to the assembled parties. "Asha, I may have spoken with too much venom before, but I would ask that you refrain from trying to invite me into your fancies. I pray that you'll forgive me for the injustice I committed in my callous words."
He bent low, feathers peaking through the draping fabrics. The Holy Maiden stared at Ife but said nothing, her simmering rage requiring a heavy hand to manage.
"I do not know what the others have said to you, but our conduct together has been nothing less than professional."
A heavy exhale escaped from the Holy Maiden's lips. She looked around, the various faces that she had called to this gathering <abbr title="Pity, disgust, contempt and many more, a melange of melancholy. That wasn't how they were supposed to look at her. This wasn't how things were meant to go.">staring at her with contemptible emotions.</abbr> She scanned the room, looking for at least one face to find comfort in, at least one face to rescue her from the sea of discontent.
There... the sweetest of all the prince's cohort. The one who could not deny her her whims. The one she thought would sooner bend than break.
The Holy Maiden glided across the floor, ignoring the hushed whispers, ignoring the <abbr title="Kiran, Amit, Ife... she wouldn't forget the disrespect they forced onto her.">others</abbr> who had abandoned her in her time of need, before arriving at her would-be savior.
"Rishi, you'll back me up, won't you? You saw Chandra be rude to me. All those hours doing blessing practice, where I toiled away for the good of our country, in spite of the onlookers spreading rumors behind our backs. You alone would always make time for me, won't you? You know how much I've suffered."
The yellow-throated marten winced, body tensed up from the approach. The upper half of his robe was a solitary layer of black chiffon, embroidered with an <abbr title="One of the better imports to the country, Kiran reckoned. Rishi wore it well.">assortment of paisleys.</abbr> The lower half was layered more densely, giving some <abbr title="That didn't really account for Rishi's inherent styling of his outfit. No matter how much he claimed he wasn't trying to flirt with others, the open slit revealing his chest at all times spoke otherwise. He couldn't help but present himself in a way that drew in other's gazes, drawn to wearing clothing that showed off his form. He claimed ignorance, although Ife grew more distrustful of that claim over time, not that he cared. Ife had his own aesthetic. Rishi deserved to have the same.">sense of modesty</abbr> in the aesthetic given the dark curtain surrounding Rishi's legs. The darkness was filled with little embellishments, fragments of color like stars peeking out from the midnight sky. Two large paisleys sat at the waist, a thin cord looping around to keep the fabric bound to his form.
His attire was an embellishment from the conventional attire of those who studied blessings and discovered new rotes--it only fit, given his position as the son of the King's trusted advisor for all things mystical.
Rishi took half a step back, unwilling to be so quickly detained by the Holy Maiden. "I... I don't know if things are as simple as you're making them out to be, miss."
With all the attention firmly placed between Rishi and Asha, Kiran could spare a moment to shake his head, sporting the tiniest of grins. Of course Rishi couldn't outright defy the Holy Maiden. That was against his ethos. He abhorred conflict. This meager token of defiance was what he could muster, and yet, if Asha pushed too much further, she might learn that the yellow-throated marten would break.
The Holy Maiden's claws unfurled at her side, her body trembling with impotent rage. "What do you mean by simple? There's nothing less simple than the extended campaign against me. Why, it feels like there's a conspiracy. I thought you were on my side, Rishi."
She looked at him with an unflinching gaze, her eyes sparkling. As long as she looked at him, it felt like he was the only person in the world. This was her unbridled devotion, which had garnered her followers throughout the court in mass. Alone she could make time for each and every person, giving them her undivided attention.
"I'm sorry, Lady Asha. I please ask that you refrain from using your charm magic on me any longer without my consent."
A heavy silence dropped. Anyone that had been paying only <abbr title="At a certain point, layer after layer of accusation and rebuttal lost its edge when the concerns never meaningfully differed. Asha couldn't help but be a broken record. She had nothing else to point to.">half attention</abbr> prior was now fully tuned in. This wasn't a casual accusation to throw, let alone at the Holy Maiden.
"Rishi..." Kamal cautioned.
"No, no, go ahead. Speak, kit," Asha said, pointing with an extended nail at the yellow-throated marten. Her claw was but inches from his throat, but Rishi looked on at her with determination written on his face.
"If you insist. It's become quite apparent that someone's been using charm magic, given the lapses in memories, strange changes in attitudes, and your personal behavior in tandem. Frankly, you don't act polite enough to justify the responses you're getting."
"So you're saying I am getting bullied," Asha replied, breezing past the rest of the statements.
"Not quite. People have been comparing the oddities and trying to determine what the root cause was, and you happened to be at the forefront. Would you really call it anything less than odd to be overly friendly to the kind of person who is willing to break up the engagement of the prince?"
"The Herald of the New Age is destined for much more than a duke's daughter."
"Perhaps, but that doesn't excuse your conduct in your approach, nor does it explain our responses to your callous nature. After some extensive research in the library, I've determined that all the symptoms added to you producing a charm, albeit if it was through your blessing or by rote, I could not say. What I did from there was some extensive testing to implement an anti-charm rote, and I can say it has been quite effective if I'm even able to muster up enough courage to speak against you right now."
"That's absurd! I would never try to charm anyone."
Rishi stroked his chin. "Ah, so it's all passive then? Curious. We'd have to do some research as to why you're unwillingly emitting it, if you'd be interested?"
"I don't even agree with your premise in the first place," the Holy Maiden screamed. Whatever patience she had flew away--none of those that she thought were her allies had remained here.
"Do you even have proof that your so-called anti-charm rote even works?"
The yellow-throated marten let out a wry smile. "Why, of course. I did some [[firsthand practice on implementing and breaking charms, just to be sure.]]One week prior, the prince could no longer <abbr title="Ignore wasn't quite the right term, but that's how it looked to the outside parties. Investigations had been ongoing for a while, but the same complaints kept being brought his way. It was his duty to try and manage the issues the assembled court had with Asha, and there was a large laundry list of matters to attend to.">ignore</abbr> the claims brought to him. He hoofed it through the palace, having made sure to clear out the next hour to ensure that whatever else needed to be done to validate Rishi's research could be over and done with. Any day now Asha would be emboldened enough to act further.
He burst into Rishi's dedicated research room, a representation of a workshop sliced off from the rest of his father's space. There were some perks to having one's father as the King's head of magical matters within the kingdom, albeit the main advantage was the privacy. This space was at most the size of a <abbr title="With a simple cot against the wall for nights where Rishi stayed up too late, fixated on trying to resolve a curious string of language in the processing of an unusual rote formation. It was currently unmade, the sheets threatening to fall off altogether. Whatever brief moments of rest he got upon the bed were fleeting, tiny windows to ensure he wouldn't grow ill.">bedroom</abbr>, books and scrolls strewn about the floor. A solitary desk sat underneath the sole window, with a handful of modestly sized metal rings littering the surface. It was a testament to the yellow-throated marten's efforts.
His friend sat at his desk, the structure of a rote shimmering in the air before him, a monocle helping him peer closer at the string of magic--at least, that's what he was doing prior to the nilgai's dramatic entrance. Rishi jumped into the air, fur standing on edge, the partially assembled rote disassembling into the aether.
"What was that for?" Rishi said, pivoting around to the source of the intrusion. His furious expression softened when he saw his prince standing before him.
"Rishi--" Kiran started.
"No, no, I know. You're coming here for results. That's just as well. I was coming close to some sort of conclusion." He bit his lips, as though afraid of the words that would follow.
"Well? What did you find out?" Kiran closed the door behind him and stepped next to his friend, resting his big palm on the yellow-throated marten's shoulder. There was no malice meant in the action, just an attempt to share comfort, as though to say that <abbr title="And there was substantive proof for that to be the case. Kiran had Rishi's back, figuratively and literally.">he would protect Rishi.</abbr>
"Okay, I've been working more on my charm research. I found people who had interacted with the Holy Maiden and shortly after her departure I did a study of the rote signatures still active on their person, always seeing one continued active work. While it does conclude that she's been doing something to the rest of the court, it doesn't definitively determine what she's been doing. It could very well be a minor glamor, something that <abbr title="'Now would that be sad? Probably. I wouldn't do such a thing. That's too much extra effort to be concerned with how others perceive you.'">affects how others perceive her,</abbr> for example. So I made a copy of that rote pattern, and quickly wrote it down for further analysis."
"Yes yes, great backstory, Rishi. What have you actually determined though?"
"The structure seems to be <abbr title="'So all that caveating was for nothing then? It was exactly as we expected, that she couldn't help but force her way through every conversation?'">like a charm</abbr>, although it's the most complicated one I've ever seen." He shot the nilgai a weak grin, before conjuring up the very same rote he was studying moments ago. It hung in the air, the strange script spinning about, before the yellow-throated marten made another motion, the rote expanding even further.
"This part here is the tricky bit though. I don't know what it's doing. Do you have any idea?" Rishi pointed to a line of symbols, Kiran shaking his head almost immediately.
"Rishi... you know very well that I function on instinct alone when it comes to using my blessing." As if slightly ashamed of that declaration, his hand drifted behind his head, scratching at the back of his neck.
"That can't be fully true. You've memorized rote formations for--"
"Rishi, that's not the same. I can copy things. That doesn't make me good at understanding why they work." The prince gently ruffled the head of his friend.
"Alright, alright, I get it. You're all brawn, no brain. Whatever." Rishi's teasing earned him yet another playful ruffling of his head, and with a sigh, he wiped away the displayed rote.
"What I've been doing is working on a counter-charm, but to finish it off, I need to fully understand what's been going on, meaning I need to see it in action. The problem with that is patently obvious, I'd say."
"There's multiple problems if anything," Kiran said. "You shouldn't be the one charmed if you need to study the effect. You don't want word of the activity to get back to Asha. There's not many willing subjects for this sort of experiment--"
"Yes, yes, I'm well aware, although I'm glad you understand," Rishi replied. "So do you get at what I'm asking of you, then?"
The pair locked eyes, the sun illuminating half of their faces, bringing out the subtle details of their fur. The look they shared said it all. Trust wasn't built in a single day.
"So what are you thinking then?" Kiran replied, sinking back into the cot. "Obviously you're gonna charm me, but how long does it have to be active to understand the effects?"
"Frankly, I'm not sure. I'm of two minds about it. I could try to push you towards an action you're less inclined to do, or pull you towards an action in your favor. I figure that's the general range of what a charm intends, don't you?" Yet his words didn't carry much confidence, his gaze staring anywhere other than at Kiran.
The nilgai tilted his head, studying his friend with newfound focus. "What were you thinking?" he asked.
"I was thinking... we could have some fun, if that was alright. I know it's not your standard idea, but--"
"Rishi Rishi Rishi, it's fantastic that you're so open to such an idea!" Kiran gushed. "You'll have to be more precise with what you're thinking though."
He spread his legs on the cot, and started kneading at his cock through the fabric. His meat rose to his touch, starting to stiffen, the outline of his manhood carving out an all-too familiar shape for the yellow-throated marten.
Rishi furiously blushed, and turned back to his desk, holding up the rings for the <abbr title="At no point did Kiran stop stroking his meat.">nilgai to see.</abbr>
"You see these? After observing what happens while you're in the throes of the charm, I can finish the rote that would nullify the effect and equip it onto you, thereby confirming the effectiveness of my research."
"Put it where?" the prince wryly asked.
"It's uh... I chose a hidden... I figured that it would be a secret if--"
"If it was firmly affixed around my cock, got it, little buddy. Now then. I'll do whatever you think is best. I trust you." As much as his body was becoming filled with lust, the smile he flashed at the shy magician was enough to pierce through his defenses.
"Okay then," Rishi said, slowly walking over to Kiran, the strange script of the rote dangling from the tip of his finger.
[["You're going to bottom for me."]]
=="You're going to fuck me silly."==[[a suitable magician by his side.]]Kiran nodded, a wry smile sitting on his lips.
"It's so hot when you take charge, Rishi," he crooned.
The yellow-throated marten blushed further and completed the rote, suffusing the nilgai with the charm magic. At once a dullness filled his eyes, as though his mind wasn't quite fully there. His jaw became a bit slack.
"Maybe I put too much magic into this," Rishi muttered to himself. But outside of waiting for it to wear off, now was time to study what his hand had wrought.
"Strip for me, my prince," he demanded.
With a loopy grin the nilgai complied, taking off his shirt with crossed arms. The linen garment shot above his head, showing off his striking obliques and gorgeous chest. His <abbr title="Not quite as adorned as he conventionally wore when in a more public function. This was his casual gold, not his performative gold.">gold chains</abbr> shook from the motion, gently clattering between his horns. His pants were kicked off across the room, leaving a thick erection waiting for action.
In turn, Rishi undid the knot at his waist and shook off his robe, letting it crumple into a heap by his feet. His stiff cock stood at attention; his <abbr title="It wasn't as though he didn't like bottoming for his prince. It was just that Kiran wanted to top Rishi more than he wanted to bottom for him, and while both were fine, there was something to be said about getting control of the situation. Mastering the desire. Trying to shift the paradigm, and make Kiran crave more of his cock and-- Okay, maybe there was a little resentment built in there, but it was hard to argue with the prince (even if he was a childhood friend) that one wanted to swap up the dynamic more often. Rishi knew the others had other arrangements for their situation, but he couldn't muster up the conviction to start with his demands at the forefront. Usually, that is.">excitement for what was to come</abbr> was patently obvious.
Normally there would have been an appreciative response from Kiran, but what Rishi was slowly starting to learn was that he wouldn't get something for nothing. He'd have to prompt his prince to get some measure of normal output.
"Do you like what you see, my prince?" His words were cautious, unused to leading off like that. The yellow-throated marten was all too accustomed to Kiran's unprompted praise. In a way, begging for affection felt more out of place than having his prince under his spell.
"You've got a lovely cock, Rishi," Kiran replied, his words slow to escape past his lips.
"If you like it so much," the magician began, "then let's see how you feel about it in your mouth."
He closed the gap, one of the cock rings loosely strewn about his fingers for temporary storage, and mounted the cot. The bed creaked in warning, but this wasn't the first time it had borne two bodies nor would it be the last. His cock pushed up against his prince's lips, welcomed in with an audible sigh of pleasure. Rishi grabbed Kiran's horns to help hold him steady.
The nilgai suckled on the magician's cock like it was a delectable treat, easily managing the yellow-throated marten's full length. Rishi's legs threatened to crumple under the assault--even if this wasn't the prince's proper technique, head was still head.
"Oh fuck," he moaned, starting to buck his hips into his prince's face. His balls slapped against Kiran's chin, and he thought for just the slightest of moments that he could see the <abbr title="Kiran liked the scent of his men. It was that simple. Nothing connected him closer to his men than their raw scent, the exaltation of their efforts in the midst of passion.">nilgai's nostrils flare</abbr> with each thrust.
Not long thereafter, he felt about ready to burst. That would have been insufficient, however. For all that they were engaging in foreplay, this was still in the scope of actions Kiran would take of his own volition. The prince enjoyed draining his lovers before filling them up again.
"That's enough," Rishi said, trying to pull back from the nilgai's lips. He could see a flare of disobedience, the first signs of what it looked like when one tried to go against the charm's directives. With a careful eye he studied the rote's influence on Kiran, letting his focus on research distract him from the earthly pleasures until his temporary analysis had concluded.
Having gotten what he wanted for the moment, he repeated his command, no longer willing to entertain Kiran's disrespect any longer. "No more, Kiran. You'll get my cock soon enough, but we've got to get you ready for me."
With the second layering of the command, Kiran let go, the warmth of his mouth evaporating from around Rishi's length. There was the faintest of scowls sitting on his face, but no rebuttals, only a continued wait for more directions from the conjurer of the rote.
"Alright," Rishi said, having climbed back down to ground level. "Give me access to your royal hole."
The yellow-throated marten snorted at his statement, but the intent was clear enough. The prince leant on his back and spread his thick thighs, his sculpted ass <abbr title="Just above in the shot sat his cock and balls, the erection casting a shadow on his fur. His balls drooped not too far overhead, heavy jewels desperate to be emptied.">framing a hole begging to be fucked.</abbr> Two large hands had gone back to playing with his stiff cock and balls--one traveling the length of his manhood, the other gently tugging at his nuts.
"Oh fuck," Rishi muttered. He walked closer and knelt down, spreading apart the cheeks for ease of access to the prize nestled within. His face traveled forwards, taking a deep sniff of <abbr title="He was all but certain Kiran didn't wash today. If he knew his prince's schedule, and he liked to think he did, the nilgai trained out in the yard earlier with Amit. The faint scent of sex suggested either some fooling around with the monitor lizard or someone else after, not that it particularly mattered who. It was Rishi's turn to make Kiran squeal with pleasure.">his prince's heady scent</abbr>, cock twitching at the earthy smell. A cautious flick of his tongue across the nilgai's hole, and his prince squirmed with pleasure, hole twitching as though begging for a more solid intrusion.
The yellow-throated marten continued lapping at Kiran's hole, the moan of pleasure driving him into a frenzied state to ensure his prince was adequately sated. His eyes were closed, his mind lost to the sensation. The salty taste clung to his tongue. His soft hands dug into Kiran's thighs, pulling ever so slightly to part his prince's heavenly cheeks further apart as his tongue pierced past the opening, digging into the <abbr title="His cock twitched, desperate to be buried within Kiran. His tongue was a poor substitute for his manhood, in terms of filling his lover up.">warmth inside.</abbr> <abbr title="With royal jewels like those, Rishi could see how Kiran could fool around so often in one day.">Kiran's balls</abbr> rested on his nose, the scent driving him mad; he couldn't help but give them a once-over for every few passes at Kiran's backdoor.
"Fuck," Kiran grunted, his hands furiously tugging at his rigid cock. "I think I'm about to burst, Rishi."
The yellow-throated marten pulled back and hastily shouted, "Oh no you aren't. Hands off. You're not cumming without me in you."
His voice was unused to such a domineering tone, but he'd gotten lost in his domineering role in this endeavor. Kiran snorted, <abbr title="It was another perfect opportunity to observe the effects of the rote, and Rishi made sure not to miss a second.">resisting the charm</abbr>, but his hands pulled away per Rishi's demand. The nilgai's fat cock leaked pre, a steady trail trickling down from the tip along to the shaft, hugging the curves of his nuts until it dripped over his hole.
"Fuck, you can't wait any longer, can you?" Rishi grunted. He rose from his knees and gave his turgid cock a few tugs while casting <abbr title="Ostensibly it was meant to oil up gates and other stuck materials, but everything the yellow-throated marten had heard about its usage indicated that was just a cover story for the lubrication.">another rote.</abbr>
"Get ready, I'm coming in," he said. His prince pulled back on his legs, spreading them apart as Rishi's cock entered his tender hole. The feeling was pure ecstasy, the royal ass clamping down hard on his meat. It was well-sculpted from hours out in the yard training for the <abbr title="And instead Rishi was experiencing that form of good first hand, a very intimate connection with his prince. He was fortunate, he reckoned, to be able to act in such a manner with Kiran. Not everyone could say that.">good of the country.</abbr>
Each slam of his cock into Kiran made the prince's cock twitch, his eyes burning holes into Rishi as he could do nothing but watch the fun. Rishi could see the need etched into Kiran, and decided to switch things up. He couldn't bear to watch him <abbr title="The pleasure racking Kiran's body didn't count. That was fair game, if not necessary for the experience to be counted as a success.">suffer by his own hands.</abbr>
It wouldn't be easy, given their differences in frame and the size of the bed, but Rishi wasn't going to give up without trying first. He pulled out, exposing his cock to the <abbr title="Everything was cold in comparison to the depths of Kiran's body.">cool air</abbr>, and performed the tiniest of leaps into Kiran's arms.
"Catch me," he demanded, the nilgai doing nothing less than what he would have done even if he wasn't charmed. Rishi pushed his lips to Kirans, furiously kissing his prince while he fumbled around with his cock to slide it back into the inviting hole below. He could tell he was successful not only from the contact but the gasp that fled into his mouth, Kiran lost in the impact once again. He braced his legs onto the cot, taking an active role as the support for his prince's beefy thighs, taking the free hands into his own to grasp tightly.
The yellow-throated marten then bucked his hips to the rhythm of his kisses, desperate to fill Kiran with every ounce of <abbr title="What else could he call it? Devotion? Worship? While Kiran might be betrothed to Lady Chandra, and have his dalliances with other members of the court, that didn't make Rishi care for him any less. As long as they could connect cock to cock, lips to lips, then he knew what they had mattered. Kiran didn't sleep with just any members of the court over the year, only his inner circle, and who was Rishi to expect all of his attention. Kiran would be king one day, and even that didn't encompass the full scope of his importance, given the prophecy that surrounded his life. He already belonged to everyone, but not everyone would have the same unfettered access to him.">love and affection he had.</abbr>
It almost felt as though the charm wasn't even necessary any longer, with Kiran fully under the charm of being dicked down. The nilgai's thick cock perpetually rubbed up against Rishi's fur, a pleasure unlike any Kiran had ever experienced before. He whimpered into the yellow-throated marten's mouth, tongue darting back just for the moment. His hands trembled, threatening to overpower Rishi's grip purely from the differential in strength.
"Can I cum?" his prince begged.
Unwilling to deny his love any such request, Rishi picked up the pace, He slammed deep into Kiran, working his hips to make full use of his size. The nilgai clamped down, so inexplicably tight, body threatening to let go if only given the slightest additional help. Every motion threatened the end, and with no reason to deny him any longer, Rishi brought his lips right next to Kiran's ear.
"Cum for me," he demanded.
With a great shudder of pleasure, ropes of cum shot forth, splattering against Rishi's chest. Kiran's hole squeezed down hard, indescribably tight, demanding satisfaction from the yellow-throated marten, and the magician would do nothing less than fulfill his love's needs. Rishi's own cock shot off, balls churning one of the heaviest loads he'd ever had in his life. He wanted nothing less than to mark his prince so deeply so that no one else could ever stake a claim on him. Kiran was to be his and no one else's.
Rishi leaned in for a kiss, savoring the moment. It felt right, to be connected at the hip <abbr title="Although the other manner, or any other similar configuration would have been just as satisfactory, if Rishi was to be honest with his feelings. He was just happy to be that close to his love. He didn't know if Kiran could or would ever reciprocate in the same measure, but whatever they had would be enough, if only for the moments where the two were as one.">like that.</abbr> The yellow-throated marten's cock still twitched within Kiran's hole, spurting out remnants of his affection amongst the other pool, and he pulled back, staring with admiration at his prince.
It was <abbr title="Obviously.">hard work</abbr>, but it was <abbr title="Again, obviously.">work well worth doing.</abbr> He sighed, resting his head in the crook of Kiran's shoulder, planting gentle kisses on the nape of the nilgai's neck.
"You're incredible, I don't want to leave you," Rishi said, left hand gently tracing a pattern across his love's chest. His paw trickled over the peaks and valleys of the mountain range that sat upon Kiran's upper body, the nilgai snorting in appreciation whenever the soft fur lingered upon his stiff nipples.
"Then don't," Kiran replied, his eyes glazed over. While the yellow-throated marten could see there was no conflict with his prince's wants against the might of the charm, his heart twinged in pain nonetheless. It felt terribly wrong, especially as he hadn't fully measured the whole activity. He'd spent so much time on his own pleasure that he'd forgotten the premise of the experiment.
"Tell me how you really feel," he pleaded. "Did you enjoy the experience?"
He started to withdraw from the Nilgai's behind, only for a sturdy hand to catch him mid act. "I genuinely appreciate all my time with you, Rishi, No matter what we do. I'd be happy to go again."
"Really?" the yellow-throated marten asked, hints of tears in his eyes.
"Really."
"Great! I need to actually do more research on the charm, and we're not quite done yet!" Rishi waggled his finger, and another chain of glyphs flooded out, lazily trailing into his cock and balls. His genitals briefly glowed, and what was once softening stiffened back up again.
"W-what was that?" Kiran asked, <abbr title="If Rishi was doing what he thought he was doing, then it could be his turn to be unable to sit for the next day.">fear present for the first time all day.</abbr>
"Just something to get me going again. Get ready." Rishi wore a wicked grin on his lips and planted one last kiss before he started thrusting into Kiran's cum-filled ass once again.
For the rest of the time together, Rishi didn't give Kiran any pause, testing the boundaries of the charm in tandem with fucking his prince silly. The next day there would be <abbr title="But that mostly just meant hands off his excessively vulnerable junk, and he already wore soft chiffon as it was. As long as Kiran didn't visit him for payback... and if he did, as long as he kept his hands away, then Rishi would be alright.">some backlash</abbr> for continuing on past his limits. While the flesh could be forcibly reinvigorated, the seed wasn't replenished at the same rate, leaving <abbr title="His chest, however, picked up some additional coatings of his seed, Rishi's constant efforts slamming into his prostate more often than not. If great pleasure was the price to pay for research, then perhaps he could be a willing test-subject for further experiments in the future.">Kiran's ass</abbr> only modestly more filled than it was before.
It was only as the end of the experiment approached that Rishi withdrew from Kiran, all but certain that he'd understood the last crucial elements for the counter-measure. His <abbr title="It still stood at full attention. A lot had been pumped into it; his desire wouldn't diminish so quickly.">cock slid</abbr> out almost effortlessly, his cum having replaced the necessity of reapplying the lubricant rote from before. But his own cock wasn't where his attention was spent.
No, Rishi wove a strange rote, the curious glyphs filtering into the ring he held in his hand. It shuddered upon being filled, growing cold to the touch before it settled, magic inscribed within.
"Do you mind if... if I put it on you?" the yellow-throated marten inquired? He inched closer, eyes fixated on the royal scepter that still looked as though it could take another few rounds of action, if need be, although its current state was deflating quickly with each moment.
"Of course. I'd appreciate that," Kiran replied, his words still filled with haze.
Rishi swallowed whatever apprehensions he still had, and cast another rote, the ring expanding past its intended usual size. It gently slid down the nilgai's thick shaft, before setting down at the base, where another wave of the yellow-throated marten's fingers dispelled most of the rote.
In turn, the glyphs inscribed into the ring started to glow, and Rishi held his breath, hoping he'd calculated precisely as required. In seconds, there was no longer any fog in his prince's eyes, proof that the charm had been repelled.
"Welcome back, my love," Rishi said, caressing his prince's cheek. He didn't care if he was throwing away all pretenses. For all the fun the experiment had been, it still didn't feel <abbr title="For lust purposes? Perfectly fine. For his deep love for his prince? Missing the mark.">quite right</abbr>, for Kiran wasn't quite fully there.
"I'm fine," Kiran started, drawing Rishi into a hug. Their matted fur pressed against each other, but it was too late to be concerned about getting dirty.
"Mostly fine," the prince amended, cum starting to trickle in greater volumes out of his ass with the helping hand of gravity at play. "I'm now charm proof?"
"Barring excessively high level magic, but at that point your blessing's anti-magic protocols would ostensibly kick in. What the Holy Maiden was doing, intentional or otherwise, was far more subtle. Not enough power to get noticed outright, and just enough to produce an effect. Almost insidious in design, really."
Just talking shop was enough to snap the yellow-throated marten out of his funk. His man was back. His work was correct. All was right.
"That will do then. You'll have to equip the boys... and our fathers too, although I don't know if I want them to have the same kind of attire." For all that Kiran could see that they were attractive men, he knew where their loyalties lay, and had known them from when he was a young boy. Those thoughts weren't meant to surface.
Rishi nodded. "I'll speak with my father. With the rote provided, he can decide what he wishes to do."
"That's probably for the best," Kiran said, nodding. "Now do you still want to continue?"
"Excuse me?" the yellow-throated marten said. "You're still ready to go?"
The prince flashed his subject a wry smile. "This still works like a conventional cock ring, right?"
"Yeah, all you need to do is adjust it, of which you're more than capable."
"Great!" The strange script trickled from his fingers, and the cock ring shrunk to a proper snug fit, his royal scepter looking thicker than ever. He gave his meat a few cursory tugs, groaning with pleasure. He looked the yellow-throated marten up and down, as though appraising his lover.
The sight of his prince's cock stirring again filled Rishi with lust. He licked his lips, his own loins <abbr title="No magic required this time, other than the magic of attraction.">rising back to the occasion.</abbr> He slowly walked closer before wrapping his hand around his prince's cock. The heat it gave off was just another demand that he wanted to fulfill.
"We still have a few hours left," Rishi started. "I budgeted for essentially the whole day. I didn't know how much testing we needed."
"Well, we can always afford to test some more," the nilgai replied, wearing a wicked smile. He grabbed the yellow-throated marten and hoisted him onto his lap, his fat cock positioned to nestle within Rishi's soft cheeks.
With the anti-charm measures in place, all they had was time for each other. Nothing else needed to matter. Rishi could finish up the other enchanted tools in minutes. For now, they only needed to care about one another.
Kiran <abbr title="There was also the matter of needing to ravish Rishi. That spoiled brat took advantage of him for all this time, not that he wasn't a completely willing participant. Now it was Kiran's turn to return the favor. He was prepared to wear the yellow-throated marten as a cocksleeve for the rest of the day, if need be.">would have been concerned for his father</abbr> falling prey to Asha's charms in the interim, but he knew he had nothing to be concerned about, not as long as there was [[a suitable magician by his side.]]"And you're going to be where?" the King asked to the empty room. He reclined upon his <abbr title="The safest place in the kingdom. Even without any active guards present, there was magic threaded throughout the room, rotes spun into the walls and ground, guards posted outside, ready to run in at a moment's notice. Normally they'd be within the room, but he requested some privacy as he went through this exercise with Indra.">throne,</abbr> awaiting a response from his distant chancellor of magic. The yellow-throated marten had claimed that he'd come up with a new means of protecting the king-- a bold claim, if true. Just like his son, he was prone to <abbr title="Not that Kamal was any different in that regard from Kiran. They both were men of action, not practice. The seed ran strong, it seemed.">practical demonstrations rather than showing the theory behind them.</abbr>
"I'm already elsewhere," <abbr title="The yellow-throated marten was much like his son. Lithe, adorable, easy to miss. But where his son got along on charm, Indra carried confidence. He knew he was the best. He knew he was desired. His aging had only added depth to his form, the few grey hairs and wrinkles in his brow showing the wisdom carried within his form. There was even a little stomach to the man from too much indulging in sweets; it was only fit as a reward for such a prominent member of the court.">Indra</abbr> replied, rolling his eyes. Not that Kamal could see him. That was the whole premise of this exercise, implementing new means of defending the king from afar. In theory, others blessed within the court would be able to enact the same protections, although only those properly vetted would be trusted with such a mechanism. And even then, that didn't account for the surprise Indra was holding onto. That was meant for himself and nobody else. And well, the king too. Technically.
Kamal could hear him, however. The rote connected the two, so that his words would reach his king's lips. Another rote was freestanding, drawing from Indra's blessing to show <abbr title="Audio included, because what good was a show without sound.">a view</abbr> as to what it looked like within his king's presence, all from the comfort of <abbr title="Would that all work could be done from bed. That would be the perfect life, Indra reckoned. Research in bed. Work in bed. Fuck in bed. The trifecta, really.">Indra's own bed.</abbr>
"So what am I supposed to do then?" Kamal replied. He idly scratched at his chest, lounging about. This was an amusing exercise, but he was a busy man as a ruler of a kingdom. He didn't have excess time to squander like his son.
"You should be impressed that you're already hearing my voice in your ear," the yellow-throated marten replied. "No one else can do this, although Rishi could figure it out, given enough time and direction."
"You really think highly of your son," the king said. His words bore no malice, only warmth at the observation.
"Don't you think the same of yours?"
"Kiran... he's got a lot on his shoulders, and he's holding up all the same. I just wish that he knew I always had his back," Kamal said, resting his head in his hands. "I wish I could take some of that weight off of him."
"So it goes, my lord. We're determined to do our best to make an easier path towards the future for our children, but we can't do anything more for them than what they let us. You'll just have to trust in the son you raised, and you did a mighty fine job. He's an upstanding lad. It's no surprise he manages to deal with the Holy Maiden with such ease."
The king groaned, slouching on his throne. "Don't bring her up. I have enough to do with her during the day. The Holy Temple keeps sending messengers, and they never let up. The Holy Maiden should have a fief, the Holy Maiden needs expert tutelage, the Holy Maiden blah blah blah. None of the reports on her have said anything too positive, and neutrality is its own statement. I'm sure she'll do good for the kingdom, but not while the Holy Temple won't stop trying to use her as a cudgel."
"You sound stressed, my liege," Indra said, wanting to reach out through his view to give his king a hug. His good friend didn't deserve this much stress. He'd brought them through a war-time era. This was supposed to be a simpler time, not that his work was ever done. He wasn't meant to deal with another wave of drama.
"That's just the crown, and heavy is the head that wears the crown, Indra. And it's fine. I trust in Kiran and <abbr title="Chandra was included, albeit not in the same sense as the rest. He saw how they looked at each other. Like father, like son.">the boys'</abbr> judgment. They're a tightly knit group. He doesn't need my help dealing with her, although if he asks for my assistance, I will certainly provide aid. Now are we done here? You've demonstrated you can hear and see me from afar, which I can confirm is quite useful, albeit I don't know what else you're trying to tell me."
The king sighed, his stressed form all too obvious to Indra. He couldn't let this stand.
"Well, I was going to maybe save this for another time, but there is something else we could try," Indra started. "I think you deserve some way to destress. You've been doing too much lately. You're scheduled for another reception in what, another week? Sure, Itri will be present to help walk you through that, but that doesn't make it any easier to get through. No, there's one more test we can do, which is why we had the guards leave."
Kamal sat back up in his throne, body tensed up, ready to spring. "You've got my attention now, Indra. What were you thinking?"
"I do have one more rote. I've only tested it briefly, but I can vouch for its... limited efficacy." The yellow-throated marten already started spinning the rote into existence, all but certain that his king would approve of the action. It was just as well. This was a highly complicated arrangement. It would take <abbr title="The advantage of having a long-standing working relationship meant that Indra could reasonably estimate how long it would take his king to come to a decision, and how to string along the conversation to get to the critical juncture where said decision would be made. He already knew the answer, he just needed permission.">all the time Kamal needed</abbr> to make his decision.
"Go on, don't tease me too much, Indra."
"But you love being teased, Kamal!"
"Not without you here to act on it."
"See, that's where we can try and make things different," Indra started.
The king rose in his seat, <abbr title="He hadn't been this curious as to what Indra was hinting at since the time his advisor had introduced temperature control rotes to mix up their experience. It was a memorable occasion, albeit not one Kamal wished to replicate too often, finding it a distraction from the prize in front of him more than anything else.">attention captured.</abbr> "Are you going to beat around the bush, or are you going to make me guess? You know I hate guessing."
"You hate guessing because you're never right."
"RIght, I hate guessing! Don't make me guess!" the king begged. But there was no response from Indra, just a silent room, leaving Kamal to grow mildly frustrated. This was no way to treat a king, to leave him in suspense! He deserved better!
Kamal crossed his chest, slouched down on the chair, grumbling under his breath at the ignominy of being ignored, only to realize that something was off. Sometimes he felt <abbr title="Echoes of the war? A prone to exaggerating minutiae? Who could say.">sensations that weren't present</abbr> but this was different. The pressure on his chest was not the sort that would come from an internal source, nor was it as insubstantial as his usual oddities of the form. No, this one felt familiar.
He glanced down and saw a hand reaching out of nowhere, gently fondling his chest, and he jumped out of his throne, startled at the untethered appendage.
"The fuck is that?" Kamal growled.
"Oh, that's just me. Surprise!" The hand hovered a bit away from his chest and gave a brief wave.
"What did you do?"
"It's very complex, you won't understand it," Indra started. "I can try if you'd like--"
"No, in terms I'd understand," Kamal replied, rolling his eyes.
"That might still be too complicated--"
"Indra..."
Kamal's last growl set the yellow-throated marten's body ablaze, his body responding to that domineering attitude from his king. How he loved when the nilgai got that demanding.
"I can connect two separate places together, although it's not a very large window to connect them. Around the size of a hand, with some leeway."
The implication hung in the air. Kamla was nothing if not quick when it came to domestic affairs.
"So you're saying..."
"Yes, yes, you can fuck me from a distance if you'd like, my king."
Kamal's cock sprung in response to those words gracing his ears, fully erect. He desired nothing less than ravishing Indra at this moment, and now they had the tools to do so, but not quite the time.
"What are you saying?"
In his bedroom across the other side of the castle, Indra grinned, giving his cock a few tender tugs before he delivered his offer.
[["You could fuck me while you continue working."]]
=="I could fill you up while you do your rounds."=="Well, to be clear, I'd more likely be using you like a tool if you're continuing your rounds around the castle, but I don't think you'd have a problem with that, now would you?" Indra said. He knew that Kamal would jump at the opportunity, even if it was to be used. Sometimes <abbr title="That's what was so hot. The strong, virile nilgai forced to act to the whims of the weaker marten. That dynamic had led to many a restless hour within either's bedroom, and would continue to lead to fun for as long as they both lived.">the ruler liked to submit.</abbr>
"Let's do it then," Kamal commanded, eager to be used up. "But how will this work?"
He glanced down at his crotch, noticing the <abbr title="He was wearing more casual attire, given his impending rounds around the castle. No external work, no extra time with the court. Just a king ensuring that everything was as it should be.">visible tent.</abbr> That was looking like a problem, even if it was a problem he was mighty proud of.
But as he continued staring down at his royal scepter, he watched as the tent slowly dissipated, the clothing falling back its default slack. And yet, he still felt tremendously horny. A purposeful twitch of his cock, and he felt it respond even if the clothing didn't.
"Hey, behave until I'm ready," Indra commanded. He started at the kingly cock floating before him, a feast for the senses. It was already radiating Kamal's usual scent, enthusiasm leaking in a clear trail from the tip. It was simple to maneuver it around the bedroom, his <abbr title="That was more of a contrivance rather than a requirement. Thought alone was sufficient to move it, but that wasn't as much fun. One had to take the time to enjoy themselves when playing around with magic. If one couldn't enjoy the masculine urge to send a cock flying around one's bedroom, what could one enjoy, truly?">furry fingers guiding its path</abbr> from corner to corner as though taking a <abbr title="Not that it quite needed it. Any of the commentary would be along the lines of 'Here's where we fucked for my birthday. Here's where we fucked after solving that nasty drought issue. Here's where we fucked when you wanted to try something new.' There was no inch of the room that Kamal hadn't gone through at some point.">guided tour.</abbr>
It almost didn't matter what his king would be doing, at this point. The royal scepter was within his grasp, and Indra planned to make full use of it. He motioned for it to come closer to his face, and rubbed the warm cock against his fur, feeling it twitch in response. With another hand he moved the feed of the king off to the other side of his face, so that he could watch the reactions without any obstruction. That was half of the fun, right? He needed to see how his king responded to being used as a tool when he couldn't even see how his cock was being used.
And as though to prove his point, an unsubtle groan emerged from his king, the nilgai wearing an expression equal parts confusion and pleasure. "You're gonna tease me like this the whole time?" Kamal whined, stomping the floor. His cock throbbed up against Indra's face, <abbr title="How could he not know when it was poking him in the face.">need obvious.</abbr>
"That's the idea. Well, we'll go beyond teasing. You'll have to hold your composure. You can do that, can't you?" His words were a soft whisper, and yet due to the active rote Kamal heard them with perfect clarity, shivering at the tender speech.
"Fine," he grumbled. "I better have a great time then."
"I'm sure you will," Indra said, a wicked grin on his lips. He planted kiss after kiss on the throbbing meat, paying tribute to his king in the only way he knew how. "You better get on your way though. You don't want to hold up your business or you may never get your cock back."
"Wait, what?" Kamal said, ready to argue if not for the disconnected sensation of his cockhead starting to be engulfed. That pair of lips was all too familiar--it was almost enough to bring him to his knees. If any of his advisors could be said to be orally gifted, Indra would be the name that would rise to the top of his mouth, let alone the occasion.
It was a delight to swallow the length of the king, his tongue traveling up the sweaty shaft. The sheer warmth of the cock made him <abbr title="Being actually connected through portals probably helped replicate that feeling too.">feel connected</abbr>, even if they were rooms apart. Everything was as it should be, and perhaps most importantly, the king couldn't rush the pace of Indra's worship. There were no idle hands around to disrupt the well crafted pattern of praise with an overenthusiastic embrace.
On the other end, Kamal slowly walked out of the room, struggling to keep his face composed. He had a duty to see through, and he would do it, no matter how much Indra lavished his cock with affection. He nodded to his guards, motioning for them to join him in his rounds, his cock twitching at the mere thought that they couldn't know how he was being worshiped.
"You're too big," Indra grumbled, rubbing Kamal's meat up against his cheek. His lips lingered on the nilgai's fat nuts, gently suckling them as he reflected on what else he could do. There was the obvious escalation path, but Indra wanted to give Kamal a fantastic time, not just rush immediately to the end. Sure, he could continue to deepthroat his king, but that wouldn't reflect too much further. No, he had a better idea... after a little more blow job time. He deserved some personal fun, after all.
The king continued about the castle, doing his best to maintain his demeanor. He was accustomed to controlling his emotions--the war efforts could not sufficiently continue if he couldn't keep a strong affect in the face of his soldiers--but those were purely emotional reactions. This was something physiological, his own body threatening to betray him with unassuming gasps and sighs, pleasure unable to be bound in the <abbr title="Those understood that they would come to fruition, given enough time. His body was more base. It didn't understand the same concepts of time, but rather lived only in the present. Even the memories that plagued him on the occasional night were as fresh as the day they occurred, and for that he was ever thankful for a warm body in his bed.">same capacity as grief and rage.</abbr>
His footsteps were soft on the palace grounds, not out of intent to surprise the soldiers, but out of the necessary control needed over his person to constrain his joy. Soft measured steps, little increments of advancement meant to restrain from presenting the unbridled pleasure happening across the palace grounds.
It was a blessing, he figured, that it was his cock that was borrowed. If he still had it with him, he wouldn't have been able to physically restrain himself from displaying his arousal, and then he would have presented the wrong image to the <abbr title="It wasn't as though watching muscular men swing their staves, showing off their toned bodies wasn't hot, but he was able to separate his professional self and his lustful self when there was no external stimuli.">assembled troops doing their drills</abbr> in the training grounds.
Dipak waved off from the side of the arena, the monitor lizard's scales glistening from the overhead sun. Kamal tried to not gaze too rapaciously at his love, lest the feelings from Indra's efforts spill over. His general was an observant man. If he gave him an inch, Dipak would <abbr title="Lube helped though.">take a foot.</abbr>
There was no need for him to be performative and call out the king's presence for the troops. They were accustomed to their king's occasional visits, and would do nothing less than their best. Some of the oldest out on the field had fought by his side and continued to serve with nothing more than the utmost respect for their former commander. Others heard the stories and saw the occasional sparring sessions the nilgai had with his general, <abbr title="Just as foreplay.">just to keep sharp. Just to keep in shape.</abbr>
They were doing well, for sure. No obvious signs of incompetence. No real standouts, but that was by design. This was about getting all of the soldiers to the same base standard. Opportunities to show off were saved for sanctioned tournaments and other events like the feats of strength. Routine was all he could hope for, and in that, Kamal was glad for the sun's harsh rays overhead as a plausible explanation for the deluge of sweat that overtook him.
"You're not getting off so easily," Indra muttered, planting his own rigid cock up against his kings and using it as a masturbatory tool, shaft to shaft. His hands could barely circle around both together, but where his physical appendages couldn't manage the attempt, the spell conjuring his king's cock into his presence was enough for the rest of the motions.
Somehow, this wasn't as appealing as Indra had hoped. It was still pleasurable to play with his king's meat, and he loved giving pleasure back, but without the ability to see the responses face-to-face, something was lost in the way. His view of the king was doing mighty fine work, but the restraint built into his king's posture--balled fists, tensed muscles, clenched ass--was not an equal measure for pleasure.
Indra craved to see the throes of pleasure overwhelm his king, restraint an unthinkable expression. He needed to see his king consumed with desire, his soft smile and furrowed brow betraying a desperate need to <abbr title="Or get his ass filled, on occasion.">bury his cock in a willing hole.</abbr> Maybe that was the issue. It wasn't that he couldn't see the expression, but that his king couldn't make it, but there was room to fix that. He could up the sensation until his majesty could no longer resist.
Frotting, as pleasurable as it was, wouldn't be enough for Kamal. Indra had to escalate, and there was really only one path left, not that he was averse to it as an outcome. He brought his finger closer to the royal scepter, swiping at the cockhead where a steady trickle of pre steadily drooled out, and brought it to his hole. A little gentle intrusion and in it went, Indra gasping at the sensation.
It was silly, perhaps, to do that performative bit of play without Kamal even present to see it--in a moment, he'd just use a proper rote in preparation--but <abbr title="Is there anything that's not silly about sticking part of one's self into another in the pursuit of bodily fluids?">silly was fine.</abbr> This was a ritual of his commitment to his king, like rolling out the royal carpet to ensure it was ready. Taking a little sample of his king's seed and priming his ass for entrance, for like called to like. It was as though Kamal was claiming eminent domain through sowing his seed, and he would be called upon to till the fields once more.
It would have been more effective if Indra's king could see his efforts, but instead the ritual would only be for the yellow-throated marten's eyes, his own private communion. In a way, that was for the best. Kamal wouldn't have the patience to wait for Indra's ass to get sanctified. His nose would be inspecting the musty space, digging for answers, and while Indra appreciated that, it was nice to lead with his own choices this time.
But now, it wasn't worth waiting any longer. The strange script fled from his fingertip, trailing down along the length of his body to his open hole before filtering in. With a cursory finger <abbr title="Oh how Indra squirmed at his own inquisition. Gentle pants dropped from his lips, his need swelling like the king's cock he held in his possession. Soon he'd be full. Soon he'd be reunited, if he could just wait a moment longer.">he probed his hole,</abbr> confirming it was in the proper state of preparation. The wave of pleasure from the mere intrusion was enough to vet that yes, he was ready to get on with things.
As he motioned for <abbr title="He had been giving it occasional attention just to maintain its rigid status until it was ready for the main event.">his king's dick</abbr> to come closer, his hand guiding it to the final destination. Another hand focused his floating view to zoom in on Kamal's face, unwilling to miss any second once their bonding began. With nothing else needed to prep, he brought the fat tip to his hole, inhaled, and grunted as it pushed through.
Kamal's eyes widened at the disconnected sensation. What pleasure Indra's mouth had brought before was a word apart from the connection the yellow-throated marten had started. Slowly but surely he could feel his length being fed into his lover, his body squirming at the sensation. It was almost too much, to not be able to see that fine ass. Instead, it was as though he was a makeshift sex toy, the only part of him important for Indra's pleasure there in his stead.
The magician groaned as he continued to push the king in deeper, his ass openly welcoming the hot toy. While Kamal would no doubt like to hasten the activity if he was present, Indra could go at his own pace solo. Slowly accepting the royal scepter, welcoming it stretching him out, the heat emanating from the tip filling him up. His cock twitched with each thrust of the king's, trickles of pre leaking from his own tip, although Indra didn't plan on touching himself further. He had the perfect toy. That would be enough to usher in a satisfactory ending, no additional support required.
Inch by inch, his king's cock fed into his rear, Indra welcoming him with the kind of accommodation that only comes from experience. He couldn't even focus on the view of his king, too focused on the sensation of being filled, until he had no more cock to accommodate, the nilgai's fat nuts sitting up against Indra's cheeks. "Oh fuck," he groaned, staring at how far he'd come.
With the first hurdle accomplished, now he could get to work, Indra slowly picked up the pace, jamming the full length of his king within him with fluid flicks of his wrist, his toes curling as he struggled to control himself. It was utter ecstasy, unthinkable pleasure.
At the same time, within the training grounds, Kamal's legs threatened to give out. Whatever action that was happening before him was immaterial. His mind was <abbr title="It was as though his mind was trying to recreate the scene within his head, conjured purely based off of the sensation. He couldn't know how Indra was using him, nor where he was in the room, but he constructed a similar facsimile of the action all the same, too familiar with the magician's proclivities to be led astray in his concept.">entirely elsewhere.</abbr>
For all that he was meant to passively monitor the situation, the king felt like all eyes were on him. Stray glances from the soldiers, Dipak's piercing gaze, his guards keeping an eye out for him and any threats in equal measure--he was all but certain they could see his sin, smell his desire dripping from his form. As it was, he could barely hold on, his seed threatening to spill any second now, and as if sensing the tension ensnaring his king, Indra picked up the pace, the yellow-throated marten's cock dribbling small drops of seed each time the royal scepter impaled him.
The nilgai could no longer hold on. If he was present in the room he would have roared as his cock swelled, nuts pulling back to the base, and then everything he had spilled out into Indra's ass, the magician wailing with ecstasy as his cock responded in turn. Instead he covered his mouth and <abbr title="It was a poor attempt to disguise the noise, the undertones of a moan coasting through the production, but if there was one thing the king had earned during his time in the war, it was his men's trust. If his cough mysteriously sounded like a moan, that was a coincidence, nothing more.">coughed.</abbr> Indra's release signaled his ass to clamp down, continuing to milk his king's rod, not even caring what kind of attention Kamal could garner. Even now, the king's cock was his and his alone, to use as he pleased, and one time wouldn't be enough. And as he knew, Kamal was good for another go.
The nilgai's eyes widened, as whatever relief he thought was possible evaporated. His sensitive equipment was given no reprieve, already put back to work. He could feel somehow that his meat had been set down, and that his advisor had moved onto riding his cock, the yellow-throated marten's nuts resting against his own every few moments. For all he wanted to demand some measure of rest, he was still in public, and had another half hour scheduled with the guard. His garments were drenched in sweat, the excitement leaving its visible mark. It was a small measure that he didn't reek of sex, for his equipment was elsewhere for the scent to linger.
Instead, he did the next best thing he could think of, motioning for the guards to follow him as he sat in the benches, legs wobbling with each step. The king was thankful that one kind of weakness looked the same as another from the outside, and that their concerns would eclipse any other thoughts. The guards rushed off on seeing his face, shouting that they'd return with water. Dipak caught Kamal's gaze but he waved off the monitor lizard, desperate to not get anyone else involved in this matter.
With the attention carefully displaced from the king, he bent over, letting his face take the natural shapes pleasure demanded, focusing on the sensations from across the palace. Again the magician clenched down, willing to ride Kamal until his balls shot nothing but dust. It would still be a bit before the king would be ready to loose his load again, but for now, it was just a war to struggle to maintain public composure, and he'd do anything he could to keep it together. He'd won one war before. He was ready for another.
-----
After a sufficient amount of milking, Indra looked at his work, his king's cock looking no less magnificent than before even though it had shrunk down to its soft state. The yellow-throated marten brought it to his face, giving it a gentle kiss of appreciation as the scent of sex assailed his nose. It was almost enough to make the magician get ready for another round, but he couldn't afford to play all day with his king. There was work to be done.
With a heavy sigh, and an ounce of regret, Indra spoke to his king once again, the nilgai finally relieved after having weathered the storm of his advisor's desire "I'm going to give you your cock back," <abbr title="So romantic. Nothing says affection like returning one's equipment, heavily used to its owner.">he said.</abbr>
A smile flushed upon the king's face before being erased with a sudden scowl. "Are you going to clean me up first?" he muttered, knowing that his words would finally reach back to his lover, no more distractions around.
Indra hemmed and hawed, before the strange script filtered from his fingers, trickling back into the <abbr title="As much as he enjoyed walking around with the king's essence within him, Indra knew he'd have to leave his room shortly. Another trail filtered onto his person, in what was a more thorough effort than what his king's separated part got.">depleted penis</abbr> that had given him such pleasure for the better part of an hour. All traces of the fun evaporated, the scent that Indra had enjoyed vanishing in turn. It was as though nothing had happened, barring the absence of his king's equipment.
"Alright, you're good," he grunted. With a wave of his hands, he dispelled the strange rote that had closed the distance between the magician and his king. The only way Kamal knew his cock had returned was due to the feeling of cloth on his skin, a sensation only noticeable due to the attention lavished upon it for the experiment.
"It was effective," the king muttered, not wishing for the guards to catch any of his thoughts. "I can see the potential."
"I don't know about sharing this principle just yet," Indra said, stretching on his bed. He dragged the view to his face, staring at the king, his affection undisguised. "It could be abused in the wrong hands"
"Jealous that others might have too much fun with it?"
"Perhaps," Indra admitted. "But I'll have to do more research into the long term effects... if you're willing."
"Maybe another day," Kamal grunted. "I'm out of energy. You sucked me dry."
"This view though... I'll share it with my boy. I think it'll be useful for keeping track of that Holy Maiden situation, don't you? I'm sure he'll put it to good use."
"Don't even speak her name," the king growled, his voice carrying far enough to garner the attention of the crowd. He gave an uncertain wave, trying to deflect attention once again, although Dipak's gaze all but ensured he'd have a one-on-one talk soon enough with his general. "But I do agree, Indra. See that you do share. We want our boys well equipped when dealing with the Holy Temple."
"You got it, milord!" Kamal shook his head, unwilling to deal with any further abuse from his friend, ready to continue the rest of the day. He knew Kiran would be fine as long as he had friends ready to back him up. As long as they gave them the tools to better themselves, [[they could handle any situation thrown at them.]]"That isn't the only thing I have proof of," Rishi started. "Do you really want my proof? Because once it's shown, there's no going back. You could save some measure of face when your actions were unverifiable, in some manner. The very idea that you were misreading the situation due to your position, and the stress of being the Holy Maiden. Even your charm magic we can attribute to a subconscious will, if you would. There's room for generosity in the kingdom."
The yellow-throated marten crept closer to the snow leopard, refusing to back down. For all that he was smaller than her, his threat loomed overhead, dwarfing the Holy Maiden in the implication. His eyes locked with hers, and for the briefest of moments, Asha's heart filled with doubt. It was almost unthinkable that the room could be filled with people who weren't kind, who wouldn't take her at her word. It was impossible for her to be subconsciously charming, right? A Holy Maiden wouldn't do such a thing, couldn't do such a thing. That would go against everything she stood for.
No, her doubts vanished, swept away in the bottomless pit of rage within her, stoked for far too long to be extinguished with a mere bit of bluffing.
"How dare you even suggest such a thing," she seethed, an outstretched hand poised to slap Rishi silly. "You've been nothing but insolent. I respected you for your father's role in the kingdom, but evidently that was a mistake. You've taken grave advantage of his status. Go ahead. Prove your story."
Her hand pulled back, Asha deigning to show a modicum of decorum. Instead she crossed her arms over her chest, tail angrily thrashing about behind her. Her rage could only be channeled, not erased.
Rishi bowed his head, lips frozen in a grimace. He'd done what he could. He hadn't wished to come this far, but he couldn't let the Holy Maiden continue her campaign without any checks. Amit, Ife and even Lady Chandra had done what they could. It behooved him to do all he could, for the good of the kingdom, even if he wanted nothing less than to be in the spotlight.
"Very well then," he said, tears streaming down the corners of his eyes. With a wave of his hand runes filtered into the air, the strange glyphs took the shape of a rectangle. The air in that shape shimmered until a portrait of Rishi, Asha and Chandra filled the screen, a frozen moment stolen from the library.
The yellow-throated marten in the image was hunched over a table, scouring a book for details, while the Holy Maiden cornered Lady Chandra up against the wall, her immense rage visible.
With a snap of his fingers, that frozen world came to life.
"I know what you've been saying about me," the Holy Maiden seethed. She slammed her first on the wall, her incandescent rage nothing compared to the runes constantly trickling out from her eyes. They weren't quite a <abbr title="Incomplete patterns of rotes could be very dangerous. The meticulous formulation of rotes as opposed to freeform rune casting was done as a safety mechanism. Only an accomplished magician used to utilizing their blessing like Indra would even dare to freeform runecast on the fly.">completed rote</abbr>, but their presence did mandate cause to be alarmed. They continued to point at Chandra, but whenever they came near they bounced off, unable to latch onto her form.
"Usually those runes aren't visible," Rishi said, pausing the displayed image. "I modified the recording to make them apparent to the naked eye. This is the charm that Asha is constantly giving off. This record of an encounter was taken but a week ago. I had already given Lady Chandra a tool enchanted to fend off the charm as we see here."
"This is preposterous," Asha screamed. "How do we know you aren't making this up? If we can't normally see this, then this can be all fabricated. How did you even get my image?"
Rishis shook his head, the gravity of his actions not lost on him. "My rote's effects can be verified by an acceptable third party if you'd like, but they'll just validate that this view reflects two things: the actual events that it captured, and modified to let items that weren't initially visible be seen. There would be signs if this was fabricated, but the analysis will provide nothing of the sort, and that isn't even accounting for the rest of your behavior in this record, Asha. Do you need me to continue? Do we need to show what Chandra had buried out of respect for you and your position? Just because I..."
He paused, gritting his teeth. Rishi hated what played further in the record, because it proved what he pretended to not know, that he could have acted further to prevent this mess. He could have minimized the harm to Chandra, but instead he let her get abused just for the so-called greater good.
"Just because I let you say those awful things to Chandra unchecked doesn't mean I wasn't there. I heard everything you said. I've given you chance after chance, and I can give you one more, if only you can apologize. If only you can admit culpability for your actions."
The yellow-throated marten turned to Chandra and bowed. "I'm deeply sorry that I let you be treated like this, Chandra. You didn't deserve any of the vitriol sent your way, and I'm at fault for letting it happen when I could have acted to stop it. I hope you can forgive me."
Making amends with his friend was more important than the snow leopard coming to terms with her state. She'd have to respond one way or another, but he had already put off making amends with his friend for this long. He couldn't wait any longer.
"It's alright, really," the mugger crocodile started. "You provided me with that tool. I understood the risks. I could have acted earlier, but I didn't. We're both equally at fault, if you're willing to take all the blame."
She ran across the room, sweeping Rishi into a fierce hug, the two breaking down into a <abbr title="'Frankly', Kamal whispered to Dipak after the incident, 'I was surprised neither of them broke down earlier.'">pile of mutual stress and tears.</abbr> It wasn't intended to give Asha a reprieve, but all of the attention shifted onto the pair, and it was as though the flood breaks in the room broke. Everyone was free to feel how they felt, no more restraints required.
While the Holy Maiden started to slink off, seeing no other way for how things could end up, Kiran kept an eye on her, inching after her. Their business was not yet resolved, even if [[his father had made amends with the duke over this mess ahead of time.]]
The king groaned as his aides brought yet another message to him. It was obvious what the contents reflected given the scowls sitting on their faces, and the very kind of envelope they carried. There was only one person in the kingdom who <abbr title="And this was after a campaign to make it reserved for the Holy Maiden, in spite of the monetary harm that would have caused for the merchant. It had taken a lot of work to force the Holy Temple to properly compensate the merchant for the exclusive rights for said envelope, as they were more than willing to accept yet another 'donation'.">used that material.</abbr> Only the Holy Maiden was so brazen to pester the king directly at any hour with any perceived slight.
"Go on, open it," he muttered, not even having the willpower to touch the missive directly. Whatever Asha had to say was only worth looking at if his aides approved. His time wasn't free nor easily spent on nonsense, and her campaign against Niraj's daughter was absurd. Chandra was nothing else if not a dutiful, kind and giving daughter. She would be a great boon to the kingdom as its queen one day, especially in light of Kiran's prophesied status.
The aides shook their heads, signifying that it was another groundless complaint. To say anyone was surprised would be a lie. Whatever slights Asha perceived she magnified far beyond their actual scope; anyone who spent time in her presence away from her attention provided reports disproving her claims without fail. The first time too much effort was wasted. The second time respect was still given. The third time doubt was at the forefront of the investigation, and so on and so forth.
"What is wrong with her?" he grumbled. It was a question that he couldn't answer, for all that the Holy Maiden berated and bothered his court, her actions remained inscrutable.
He shook his head, trying to dispel any remaining thoughts about the Holy Maiden. It wasn't worth his time. He trusted Kiran and his friends' judgment, and knew they would manage the situation. Kamal had his own fires to put out. With a snap of his fingers, the candles started to dim, and he rose to his feet. It was finally time to rest, mostly.
"Can you arrange for Niraj to meet me in my chambers?" he asked his aides. "I'm sorry to make you do this last task, but I feel I need to hash this out before he has the right to air his not unfounded grievances."
The aide nodded, scattering off into the depths of the castle. It'd be some time before the duke would arrive, which was good and proper. Kamal needed time to formulate what he was going to say to his good friend.
-----
Back in his bedroom chambers, Kamal reclined in his chair, thumbing through assorted papers and records. For all that he claimed work was over for the day, he couldn't help but review the documents, needing something to distract his mind as he waited for the duke to arrive. Work was only truly over when he slept or fucked, brief respites that those were.
A tender smile passed his lips as he looked at his queen's handiwork on the reports. Urmi had done so much for the kingdom while he was out on the front lines, and that work didn't stop to this day. He could never stop being thankful for her and all she did, and hoped that she enjoyed her free time with her consorts. She deserved it. He hoped Chandra could be much the same for Kiran one day. That was all he could offer the duke for his efforts during the war.
That night was one he would never forget.
Across the open rippling plains two armies sat, both ready for the slightest motion. For the moment, they gave off a guise of rest and sleep, giving at least lip service to the ideas of honor in warfare. When the morning came, blood would be spilled, the land drenched in lives lost, but that night, they could pretend all was well.
There were still troops on guard, keeping an eye out for the enemy forces, but when magic is at play, that's not such an easy assumption. The duke had been <abbr title="For both warfare and moral.">visiting the king</abbr>, preparing to leave his tent, when he noticed a strange shape in the corner of the room, slinking over to the reclining king.
There was no time to pause, no time to think. Only impulse, instinct, and love guided Niraj as he leapt for the king, screaming his heart out. He didn't know what words he said. That memory was gone, adrenaline rushing through his bones to compensate for the knife sticking out of his back thereafter. He <abbr title="Per Dipak, Kamal had kept watch over Niraj's unconscious body, tears splashing onto the mugger crocodile's scales. No matter how much the healers told him that he needed time for the healing magic to do its work, he refused to leave his side each night, the guards on full alert.">woke up three days later</abbr> in the infirmary tent, learning that with the failed assassination attempt, the kingdom had roused to war, rage infusing their blades.
That impetus had carried through the night and they routed the enemy forces, <abbr title="At least, for now. Kamal had made sure to not expand off of the territory of the loser, nor did he demand excessive reparations. The only requests were to blunt the teeth of the enemy so that they wouldn't think to attack again, but defeat and the loss of loved ones can make even rational minds avoid what's best. He just wished--a selfish wish, he knew--that they wouldn't attack again in his nor Kiran's lifetime. They deserved some measure of peace. The kingdom had already lost enough.">driving them away from the kingdom.</abbr>
For all that Niraj had inspired the kingdom to action, and his selfless act, whatever rewards Kamal could shower upon him weren't enough. They were but a mere token of the thanks the kingdom had to offer.
Now he wished to continue to make things right. What good would the duke's reward be if it got disrupted by the constant activities of the Holy Temple and the Holy Maiden?
"Are you decent?" the duke asked from the doorway.
The king looked himself up and down.
<abbr title="He was hot.">"I'm more than decent."</abbr>
The door was thrown fully open, no longer slightly ajar, <abbr title="The mugger crocodile was almost the opposite of Chandra. While she was hot and smooth, he was cool and sharp. Not quite sculpted, but a man that had seen war and still did occasional exercises with his court, his stomach betraying too much time spent at the table. But he deserved it. The nights laid claim to him, shadows of war lingering behind closed eyes. One could see the consistent fatigue in his gaze. The only time he could properly sleep was within Kamal's arms. That scar on his back stood as his eternal devotion to his king; his faith persisted in his actions, always ready to back up his king's will.">Niraj</abbr> staring at the naked King with a raised eyebrow. "This is what you call decent, Kamal? What if someone else would have come visiting?"
"I know all my visitors. My guards are kept abreast of all my planned or unplanned visitors, and magic covers the rest." Kamal set aside his papers and clasped his hands together, staring intently as at the duke. "Come, sit down. We have much to discuss."
The mugger crocodile shook his head, gracefully descending to the chair across from the king. For all that he had feigned shock at Kamal's appearance, Niraj's night garments didn't leave much to the imagination.
"So what is it you wanted from me before bed time?" He crossed his legs, leaning back with an airy gaze. He had <abbr title="He wouldn't have even bothered coming if he wasn't in alignment, but that wouldn't have been reason enough for this kind of summons. There had to be something else.">some idea,</abbr> but he needed his king to clarify.
"Can't a man want to see his good friend?" Kamal flashed a toothy grin, certain that his charm could continue to carry him through any discourse.
"Yes, but when one's good friend doesn't regularly stay on the castle grounds, there leaves something to be clarified as to why he's present." His hand tapped a steady rhythm on his scales, the staccato noises a percussive pattern of perturbation.
"Look. I wanted to talk about Chandra again."
"Haven't we talked about her enough? You know I feel terrible that she's being forced to become the queen," Niraj said, corners of his mouth downturned. "I understand this was supposed to be a reward for me, but that doesn't make it one for her. We both know your son's interests lay elsewhere. Like father, like son."
"Like father like son," Kamal softly echoed. "Does Urmi not live a good life? We're both content with our arrangement. She knew what she was getting into. I was forthcoming from the start, and the same could be said of Chandra."
"Just because it can be said doesn't mean that she wants it," the mugger crocodile growled. "She's doing what she thinks is her duty. She'll marry Kiran and give him a child, but there will only be friendship, not love. If I could have let her marry for love, I would have, but with this gift you've given me--"
He paused, taking a deep breath. "It's not worth discussing this further. I shouldn't have even gotten started. Pardon my foolishness, my king."
Kamal nodded. He understood the argument all too well. Kiran had a great support system, his grouping of lovers. Chandra was their friend, but the bonds of the bed differed from those of friendship. And even still, the bonds of the kingdom outweighed those of love, friendship and all else. If one could fit them in, it was a boon, but the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.
"I'm sorry. I should have been more clear. While we are talking about Chandra, that's as a proxy for the Holy Maiden's continued claims of harassment. We have investigated them all, and found no proof, nor would we ever think Chandra would, but it wouldn't be doing you any favors to leave you out of the loop, Niraj."
The mugger crocodile sighed, uncrossing his legs. "I want so much to note how she wouldn't even be getting this kind of harassment if you didn't put her in this position, but I also know that this Holy Maiden is a vulture. Would that you could sire a child without a woman involved, if only so that Chandra could live in peace."
Kamal rose, walking around the furniture to <abbr title="The mugger crocodile did his best not to sneak too many glances at the cock dangling but a foot away, no matter how it drew in his attention.">crouch on down</abbr> next to Niraj's side. His hand cupped the crocodile's cheek, and he stared deep into the Duke's eyes.
"If that were the case, I would have had you by my side, my love." Those words hammered at the duke's heart, threatening to destroy the shields he'd maintained all these years, the thoughts of another world where he could have married the king. Where he could have bore a child for his love.
But that world didn't come to pass, and he still loved the daughter he was blessed with. He turned away, trying to hide his expression. It wouldn't do either of them good to ruminate on such a thing. It could only do harm.
But Kamal would not be deterred. He turned the duke's face back to his, and slowly bent down, lips pressed to lips. That tender embrace was enough for Niraj. He was willing to do whatever else the king wanted, no matter how much it hurt in the end.
[["Take me, Kamal. Fill me."]]The nilgai nodded, and wrapped his arms around the duke, hoisting him aloft from the chair. With a sudden gasp, Niraj flew through the air, landing on the bed he was all too familiar with. He was splayed out on the bed, hands behind his head, eyes watching the <abbr title="Those thick thighs, broad shoulders, rugged face, full chest... that swinging python dangling between the legs... Niraj loved every inch of his king, and would take him down to the last inch if only to prove it."> powerful form of Kamal</abbr> continued to the bed.
Desire was the only thing on his mind, evident from his already-stiff cock. Kamal crawled onto the bed and set to work on <abbr title="The mugger crocodile protested at the harsh treatment of his garments, but it wasn't worth the efforts. He knew there was backup clothing already arranged for one of the king's most common visitors. Would the guards question the change in attire? Theoretically, if they weren't aware of what the pair would likely get up to. No, the protest was more performative than anything else.">getting Niraj out of his clothes.</abbr> He was far too delectable to be covered up like that.
With the duke uncovered, the king snorted in triumph, his cock throbbing at the thought of filling Niraj to the brim with his seed. Just his desires alone were enough to make his cock leak profusely, <abbr title="Others fell onto the crocodile, and he locked eyes with Kamal as rubbed them into the scales around his slit. The invitation was unnecessary, really. His interest was obvious from the start."> drops of lust steadily falling down onto the quilt.</abbr>
One thick finger lingered by the mugger crocodile's crotch, circling the slit with the occasional dip into the warmth within. The other hand held the head of the duke pressed against his own, <abbr title="The occasion plunges into Niraj's warm hole made the mugger crocodile gasp into his king's mouth, prompting Kamal to work even harder to bring his lover waves of pleasure.">furiously kissing his love.</abbr> His tongue wrestled with the mugger crocodile, dominance to be found within the confines of two mouths at war. This is what he wanted all day, nothing less than to feel his love's body pressed against his own, to meld with his man in every way he could.
Every time they kissed, it still felt like the first time, years ago. Two young men in the moonlight, bodies aching after a day of training, embracing one another in a similar position after a careless tumble from their last spar meant that feelings couldn't be hidden any longer. Now as older men, their bodies wore the passage of time. Wrinkled cheeks, pudge where there once was all muscle, strength no longer at its peak, although by no means anywhere near diminished. <abbr title="In public company he was too vain to let that be seen, but in private? With the duke? No pretenses were needed.">Specks of gray hair dotted Kamal's fur</abbr>, stress showing its early mark. Niraj's scales bore the scar from that one fateful night, amongst other wounds from the time on the battlefield. For all these ailments, these marks of the passing of time, their passion for one another hadn't dimmed for all these years.
Kamal's finger traced the mark of Niraj's worship, gently trailing the length of the scar. He would never have requested such an act of devotion, but he could not ignore what was present. While his soldiers were prepared to give their lives for their king, Niraj had no time to even consider alternatives, acting on impulse alone to prevent any harm to his lover. That sort of thing couldn't be faked. This was the body of a man who loved him through and through, and he felt the same, which meant it was time to shower his love with more pleasure. He deserved nothing less.
Kamal pulled back, a trail of saliva dripping from Niraj's tongue, and slid down the side of the bed until his face was closer to the slit. That thin opening held wonders within.
"Are you going to dive in or are you only willing to test the waters?" Niraj teased. His hand trailed over to his slit and then spread his entrance apart, demanding Kamal's presence. The nilgai snorted and placed his mouth to Niraj's hole, tongue dabbing at the tender walls within. They were slick, Niraj's scent deeply condensed, but wherever his tongue traveled he could find nothing else.
The nilgai withdrew, staring at his lover, eyebrows raised. "You didn't lose your cock, did you?"
The duke burst out into deep belly laughter. "Why, you forgot how long your tongue is and the depths of my body. Maybe we have to get you reaquainted another way. Come on then. Show me your spear-wielding skills already. This old man can't stay up all night."
"We're not that old," Kamal grumbled, grabbing his cock and lining it up with Niraj's slit. His cockhead leaked profusely, physical memory aware of the pleasures to come once he passed through the entrance.
"Come on then, no more hesitation. This isn't war," the mugger crocodile grunted. He threw his arms around the king's back and pulled him down, gasping as Kamal's fat cock pushed through to the warm interior.
"Oh fuck," the king cried. Once inside he couldn't stop himself. Instincts took over. His <abbr title="Asshole winking for the other end of the room's sight, not that anyone could see it. If one could, they would be very upset to see such a luscious sight and not be buried balls deep in it as well. The king had an ass that could launch a thousand ships, even in his middle age.">hips bucked back and forth, driving as much of himself as he could deep within his lover.</abbr>
The noise of his cock rubbing against the moist walls filled Kamal with an immeasurable lust. Niraj clung to the king, crying out with each thrust, his tail wrapped around the nilgai's leg for support.
"Unh, you're--" a tremendous cry as a deep stroke stretched him out "--breaking unh me, Kamal!"
Another thrust and his rod came tip to tip with a buried treasure. He twisted his hips, digging around Niraj's insides, trying to coax the mugger crocodile's cock out further. "There we are," Kamal grunted. "I've been looking for that."
"We won't unh.... we won't unh... we won't both fit," the duke cried.
"Oh yes we will. You've got a spacious pussy, don't you? It holds two, and that's more than most can say."
Another moan, another thrust, cocks frantically rubbing together inside of the mugger crocodile's slit. They were two bodies acting as one, the goal being the other's pleasure. A lust so thick as to drench the sheets, a desire so heavy as to keep them pinned together. "If it's a pussy," Niraj cried, "then knock me up."
Kamal's eyes widened. His cock stiffened harder than he ever thought possible. The nilgai's hands moved as to pin down his lover, and he thrust relentlessly into the slick slit, <abbr title="Get pregnant get pregnant get pregnant get pregnant get pregnant get pregnant.">words trailing from his lips</abbr> that he didn't even realize he was saying.
Niraj squirmed under the assault on his pussy, his cock peeking out further and further with each thrust of his king, the two rods sliding against one another. He could barely move under the <abbr title="And what a comfortable weight that was. To feel the full force of his lover focused on him? Profound in ways that words could not explain. The closest way he could describe it, if asked, was that it felt like Kamal's undivided attention was with him, not just mentally, but physically.">full weight of his king.</abbr>
"You're stretching me out--" Niraj began to protest, but his words fell on deaf ears, cut off by a demanding kiss. Kamal's need for the duke overwhelmed everything else, and with the overpowering force of his king, he gave in. His tail snuck around to the king's rear and prodded at that inviting hole, before that bucking ass gave way.
Kamal gasped into Niraj's occupied mouth, his limits within reach. "I can't hold on any longer," he grunted, his body twitching. "Get ready. You're going to laying this clutch for days when I'm through."
The dance of tongues between mouths was not unlike the tussling of cocks in the slit below, although Niraj's tip had finally peaked out. The mugger crocodile's tail gave one last shove within Kamal, and it was as though the floodgates opened. The king's cockhead flared, one last swelling--<abbr title="A feat that was soon surpassed in the following seconds. What he thought were the heights of satiation were but a mere preview of what was to come. Or more aptly, he forgot about his king's cum.">Niraj had never felt so full</abbr>--and then seed gushed from the tip, pulse after pulse without end. The moment there felt like there was a brief reprieve, seed no longer flooding out like a surging river, Niraj's tail swished about Kamal's guts. It was like a signal that there was still demand for cum and that the nilgai's body couldn't quit just yet.
The cum oozed out from the slit, the king huffing and puffing as his load continued to ooze out of him, no end in sight.
"How did you produce so much?" the mugger crocodile asked, laughing at the sheer volume. His king usually produced a much smaller amount, not this quantity fit to drink a glass of.
WIth a sigh of contentment, Kiran <abbr title="Niraj withdrew his tail as well, no longer needing to milk his king. He'd already gotten enough nilgai milk for a lifetime sloshing around in his slit.">pulled his hips back</abbr>, his all-too <abbr title="With all that seed, there was a little sloshing noise as it got displaced, his royal scepter isolated from the moist walls of the slit he had been lavishing with attention not too long ago.">overstimulated cock sliding out from the sea of cum.</abbr> The displaced seed overflowed onto the surrounding scales, and Kamal rolled over, panting from the exertion.
His eyes gazed at the canopy overhead, <abbr title="If he looked, he knew he'd have to offer to help with the clean-up efforts, and he needed at least a good few minutes before rising back to the occasion. He didn't think he had anything left in his balls at this point, and his back was threatening to go out on strike if he continued such strenuous activity without properly stretching beforehand.">unable to look at the work he'd wrought off to the side.</abbr> His hand fished for the duke's, no longer needing to press down upon his lover, but wanting to hold it tightly.
"I'm sorry if you didn't get off," Kamal started, rubbing a whorl into Niraj's scales. "If you did... I couldn't tell. I made a mess there."
"I noticed," Niraj replied, a dry croak passing his lips. "I'm not sure, but I'm happy either way. I don't think I could be any more content." He squeezed his king's hand back, <abbr title="To never let him go again. To always be together. To love one another, until the stars went out, until the sands ground to their last grain, until the oceans dried up, until the earth shattered. A love that had been untenable to this point, not with the Holy Temple's presence, not with their duties to their kingdom. For now, their hands together would have to do.">like a promise.</abbr>
"I hope it wasn't too much there, to call your slit a pussy." The nilgai's cheeks blazed red; his embarrassment was yet another good reason to not look at his lover
"How can you so brazenly say such a thing after depositing what felt like five loads in me? You said some things that sounded like this wasn't the first time you'd thought about them before."
"What! Things would be simple if you could have bore my children... or--"
"Or?" Niraj prompted.
"Or I could have borne yours."
The mugger crocodile felt the biggest smile come onto his lips unbidden "My love, I don't know what truly goes on in that head of yours, but if you're wishing to carry my seed, I can oblige. We certainly have enough of your cum present to lube you up."
Kamal's cock had deflated at this point, but Niraj's suggestion was enough to raise it to full attention. "Gods, I... maybe in a bit. That sounds amazing, but these old bones need a break. Ignore my royal scepter. He ignores the capacity of the rest of my body in his excitement."
The mugger crocodile howled, hands bouncing off his belly. "My love, I'll fill you up any time you want. The fantasy was enough for me. If we had a kid... what do you think they'd be like?"
"As clever as Chandra, that's for sure," Kamal started. "That head on her shoulders... Kiran is lucky for her friendship. He's wise in many ways, and yet, for all that he's prophesied to bring about the new age, Chandra is the one that I think could change our kingdom with enough time and support."
"Don't count your son out too quickly, Kamal. Kiran takes after his father. He's strong, handsome, brave. He knows when to listen to those with more wisdom, and that's a hallmark of wisdom in itself. Just like you he's surrounded himself with counsel who love him and guide him to be a better man."
They laid in silence for a time, no words said. Just each other's presence was enough. Time to just rest was almost a rare commodity in itself. The king's work was never done--every moment spent with his love right now was time not utilized reviewing important documents. But this was more important. He needed a reprieve, those fleeting moments of passion.
"I don't regret it," Kamal said, finally breaking the silence. "I don't regret marrying Urmi. The kingdom benefited greatly from her wisdom, and without her, I wouldn't have had Kiran."
They stewed in the implications of Kamal's admission, hands still locked together. "I understand," Niraj replied. "A world without Chandra would be the less for it. I wouldn't change the world we come to live in, but I would change the future, if it meant I could spend everyday with you. I almost wish your seed would take root in me, that it would germinate into a child made of the two of us. I love you, Kamal. I've always loved you."
"I love you too, Niraj," the nilgai whispered. He turned over and planted a deep kiss onto the duke, as though hoping the act would freeze time so that they would never part again. Their lips were only meant to clash and meld, not to sit waiting for the next meeting, separated by vast distances.
But the night wasn't growing any younger.
"Do you need any help with that?" Kamal asked, pointing to the frothy cum still gathered within the mugger crocodile's slit. "I know you're hoping to get knocked up, but this might be the wrong hole for that."
"Kamal..." Niraj groaned. He shook his head, his joy unable to be quenched by his king's silly behavior. "I may not be a spry young man anymore, but I still do my stretches, unlike you."
The duke leaned over, bending so that his head was face-to-face with his slit and his tongue reached out, lapping out the stray cum. "See? All gone, no help needed."
"What if I wanted to help?" Kamal grumbled, crossing his arms, the tiniest of pouts upon his lips.
"Fine, you can see what you taste like if you really want," Niraj replied, rolling his eyes. He leaned back and pulled the king into a kiss, remnants of the royal seed still lingering. The tongues clashed, lightly flicking into the other, a little tussle for dominance in spite of the prior events, before the two pulled apart, remnants of the fun trailing from the tip of the duke's tongue.
"I do taste good. I can see why you wanted to keep it all for yourself," Kamal bragged. He wore confidence in everything he did--who was Niraj to deny him said notion.
Another silence, another pause. They could banter endlessly--each other's presence was enough to sustain words for years on end, but the king wasn't made of time.
"What now?" Niraj ventured. "Was this all you wanted of me?"
The nilgai's eyes widened "I hope you don't think so... although our time together is important to me. I won't deny that. I'm just...I wondered what else we could do for our children."
"Our children?" The duke's voice rose, brows raised with concern.
"<abbr title="'Besides, neither of us are knocked up! We can't focus on things that haven't even come to pass yet!'">Not like that!</abbr> What more can we do for Chandra and Kiran?"
"Anything outside of canceling the engagement?" The duke titled his head, arms crossed.
"That's in her hands now. You know this, my love."
"I do."
"Maybe we can spend more resources looking for vulnerabilities in the temple, or campaigning for a new high priest or--"
"Or maybe, we just continue to trust them to make the right decisions." The mugger crocodile traced the contours of the king's chest. "At a certain point, they need to flee the nest, and we've spent all the time we can preparing them. Anything further we can lend our support where requested, but sometimes they have to solve problems on their own, and you know they can handle whatever mess this is. Your son is the Herald of the New Age."
"Whatever that means."
"Right, whatever that means. So right you are, my king."
Kamal grunted, lightly punching the mugger crocodile in the shoulder. "Fine. We'll just be available. They do have a good set of friends. You're right, as usual."
"Oh, now you acknowledge I'm right?"
With renewed energy, Kamal flipped over and leapt onto the duke's waist. "We'll see how right you are once you fill me up. We won't know it won't work until we keep trying, damnit."
Niraj's corner of his mouth upturned, a wry smile quickly subsumed by desire. "This time you'll take my knot, right?"
"Maybe that's what we needed to do all along," the king replied, the essence of nonchalance. "We have all night if that's alright with you."
"I think I can make it work," the mugger crocodile replied. His large hands grabbed the nilgai by the thighs, studying the passage of time over the all-too familiar skin. In a way, Kamal had only grown better with age, although Niraj would never tell him. That would <abbr title="And his other head was already swollen far too often as it was.">swell his ego too much.</abbr> He licked his lips as his king's cock started to swell back into action, feeling lust surge through his loins in turn.
In the morning, they would be king and duke again, two allies for the cause of bettering the kingdom. That night, there were only the two of them. That would have to be enough.
Not even they would have foreseen [[the aftermath of their children's work.]]While the court chattered amongst themselves, Asha thought she had managed a proper escape. They were too distracted by the Asha of the past to even focus on the present. Tears streamed from her eyes, bitter to the lips. They trailed after her, painting her hasty retreat in shades of confusion and despair. This wasn't how her second life was supposed to go.
When she'd arrived in this strange world, she knew what it was supposed to be like. She'd read all the light novels and manga. This was to be her second chance. Things would finally go right for her. No more days spent in front of a computer, toiling away to make numbers move. No more going home to an empty apartment, waiting for the night to end and the next day to begin. No more flavorless meals, shoved down her throat if only to survive until the next day. No more crushing loneliness, wishing for a world where things could change.
And here she was, in another world, tasked as the Holy Maiden to change the world. She'd been spit out into a forest, looking at hands that reflected a new world unlike she'd ever seen before. Hands she would have to grow into, for there was no changing back. Death was a one way ticket. When she tripped walking home that rainy day, body <abbr title="How tragic to have the fate she read about in all those books. She almost felt that with a few more years she could escape into a reasonable industry, stockpiles of savings enough to let her escape, but no, that wasn't to be her fate. Life had forced her down the drain, swirling deeper and deeper with the evils heaped upon her shoulders. Death was the easiest escape, even if it was all too cliche for a truck to send her on her way to another world.">skidding through the water puddle in front of the truck.</abbr>
No, destiny called to her again, when the arms of the holy temple found her, dragging her into their games of politics, training her on what to say, what to wear, what to act. She'd gone from one wretched business to another, and felt as though she was destined for another collision course with death. The temple wouldn't be too pleased at her failure to garner the prince's favor.
It should have been easy. They should have prostrated themselves before her, desperate to fulfill her desires. The high priest said as much in the endless lessons in the heart of the holy temple.
But no. Months of scheming gone to waste. Hours squandered trying to curry favor with the prince and his cohort, pleading with the rest of the court to join her in her campaign against the Lady Chandra, <abbr title="'She deserved it', Asha lied to herself, 'for being so gorgeous. So perfect. So beautiful.'">who was admittedly unfairly maligned.</abbr>
Instead she had to run away, a second life gone to waste. She wanted to blame the world for putting her in this shitty position. She didn't ask to be a Holy Maiden. She didn't ask to be forced into this strange scheme. It would have been easier to be in Chandra's place without any scheming required. Why couldn't she have been reborn as Chandra? Chandra had people who cared about her for herself. Asha's life hadn't changed all too much from her prior one. She was only worth having if she could work for others.
Tears streamed down her face as she ran down stairs, hoping to find some egress outside of the palace. If she went back to the holy temple... she would never go back. But maybe another country was open to having a Holy Maiden. Fuck. She didn't even know she was charming people. The high priest had done something to her blessing, and that was the result? Constant brainwashing? Fuck. No one would believe her if she accused the high priest of setting this all up. Things had fallen into place all too believable that she was the culprit, and she'd offended not only the prince but practically the whole court. If she was lucky, they'd kill her quickly, so that she could have a third chance, where people cared for her and not what she could do.
She didn't know where she was within the castle, but the hand on her back jolted her in place. It was familiar, a sensation to make her heart rapidly beat, threatening to leave her chest altogether. "Kiran?" she offered, having no more breath for anything else.
"Are you alright, Asha?" the crown prince replied, his demeanor unexpectedly cool for someone whose friends and family had been publicly attacked within the last hour, let alone months.
"What, come to kill me yourself? Go ahead, I won't resist," Asha spat. She turned around, staring at the prince with unflinching resolve. He stepped back, letting go of the snow leopard.
"Kill you? No, don't be absurd. Why would I do that?" Kiran's eyes widened, shocked at this line of language.
"You've only proven that I tried to turn the court on Lady Chandra, attempted to charm every single person I've interacted with, and I wasn't even successful. I'm sure the whole court hates me. Death would be an easy solution for this mess. You could even lie, and say that I tried to kill you as well. Justify it. That would be easy, right? Just snap my neck and--"
No more words would pass her lips, breath failing to rise to the occasion. She gasped, the tiniest motes of air trickling down to her lungs, insufficient for anything but continuing to desperately reach out for the next breath. For all that she'd been ready to die, she'd expected a swift death, not her body to betray her.
Undeterred by the accusation, the prince reached out once again, both hands planted firmly on her shoulders, as though trying to tether her to the realm of the living. "Focus on the weight of my palms, the sights in the hallways, the sound of my voice. Focus on the real, the tangible measures of the world, not your fear that's threatening to overtake you."
Something in Asha couldn't deny the prince's demand. She looked at the gentle hands upon her shoulders, the green draped emblazoned with the insignia of the kingdom, listened for her prince's breath until the world was no longer threatening to collapse upon her, and then she could breathe once more.
"Why'd you even bother?" she muttered. Of course she had to lead with self doubt the first moment she'd stabilized. She was all messed up. It was only right that she led herself to her own doom, this time by choice instead of by the machinations of others.
"We're not done with you, Asha. I understand all too well why you ran."
"Do you? I feel like you barely even tried to get to know me? I may have pushed far too much, but was a hand ever offered in return?" Asha spat. The prince's tender words felt like recrimination, and like the cornered animal she was, she could only lash out, given fleeing had already failed. She'd frozen far too many times in her life to let herself do so now.
"How was I supposed to get to know you, with your charm always on? You were always pushing to fight with Chandra? What were we to do, take your claims at face value? Accept your instigations and welcome you as though you hadn't pushed one of our own away?"
"I don't know. I don't know," she said, the fight already gone. That heat within her was propped up by bravado, little that she had following her panic attack. Even more so, it was hard to argue with the truth. "I wasn't trying to charm you, I promise. I didn't even know I could. I could tell people were 'liking' me, as shallow as that care was, but I thought that was just them sucking up to me because I'm the Holy Maiden."
Kiran pursed his lips, tilting his head as though seeing her in a new manner. "You know what? I believe you."
Asha rapidly blinked. "You do?"
"I can't explain it. Maybe it's just that you sound different after all your time spent lying. Like there's a different quality to your words."
"Thanks..."
"So do you want to tell me why you did what you did then?"
It was as though the world was closing in upon Asha again. Her heart threatened to give way. She could almost feel the clammy air of the holy temple surrounding her, Piara's looming presence threatening to correct her the moment she did anything wrong.
"Hmm. Maybe we'll have to discuss this in another setting if you can't speak right now. I'll make the boys help work out a solution to this issue."
"But why?" Asha protested. "Why bother?"
"You're one of my subjects. It's my duty to ensure you have the best possible life you can live. What you've done so far has been... not great, to say the least, but you can easily make amends now that all your deeds have come to light. My father told me, when I was a young boy, that sometimes in one's life one has to make difficult decisions. It's sometimes easier to ignore reason, to cling to negativity and rage, and choose to continue harming others. But only by breaking the cycle can we ensure that less negativity and hostility follows. Sometimes, we have to do what's harder because it's the right thing to do."
Asha bowed her head, overcome by the wisdom of someone that had only lived one life compared to her two, even if they weren't quite great lives to have lived.
"Alright. I...I'll say what I can."
Kiran nodded, and motioned for the Holy Maiden to continue back into the castle, trailing shortly thereafter. Where they were going, the [[truth would be revealed, and order could be restored once more.]]The new age had been ushered in, although it certainly wasn't the age expected by the holy temple, let alone the rest of the kingdom. There were a lot of changes to account for, almost too many to measure, but a few stood above the rest.
<<linkappend "Lady Asha's Sins:">>Lady Asha's return to the court was met with equal parts scorn and disdain. Whatever good will she had garnered prior to her condemnation had gone to waste, not that she was surprised. It was only right. She refused to look at any of the others, continuing with whatever little dignity she had left.
In <abbr title="The yellow-throated marten was certainly not pleased with the intruder in his sanctuary, no matter how much Kiran insisted that was the only secure place left within the castle for their purposes. It was a begrudging acceptance from Rishi. He could never deny his prince, if push came to shove.">Rishi's room,</abbr> the prince and his magically inclined friend took the time to study the Holy Maiden and her blessing. Before they'd been focused solely on why Asha had been networking with mixed results rather than anything else, and what they found nearly made Rishi bend over a trash bin, struggling to keep the contents of his stomach from exiting.
"This is horrifying," he said. "I don't know exactly what it is that you're not allowed to state--the trigger seems to be coded to be intrinsically linked to your own perception of yourself."
"Meaning?" Asha offered.
"Meaning that you had to believe you'd broken the premise that was set out for you. If you didn't think you would, you'd be safe, but I doubt things would be that easy. That's only the trigger, mind you. The effect? Awful."
"And that was?"
"It would destroy your blessing, making you incapable of any sort of rote usage or any more rudimentary magic of any kind." Rishi shuddered at the idea, the thought of being cut off from his life's work an unthinkable concept.
"That's all?" Asha had lived a life without magic. She could manage without another. It wasn't as though the high priest even properly trained her.
The pair stared at the Holy Maiden with abject horror. "We really need to do something about the high priest," Kiran muttered.
With a little more time, Rishi managed to decrypt the trigger implanted on her blessing, and with nothing holding her back, Asha shared everything.
When she was done, whatever horrors Rishi had thought applicable before paled in comparison. He stared at Asha with renewed understanding, failing to say anything for words couldn't adequately capture what needed to be said."
With that evidence in place, Asha was returned to a sort of neutral status within the court. No respect for her former role as the Holy Maiden, nebulous construct that it was. Absolved, if only slightly, for her involvement in the high priest's ambition.
Piara, however, would not get off so easily. What he had thought was an appropriate fate for a tool to be discarded was a worthy item to test on him. The malicious rote appended to Asha's blessing was replicated upon Piara's and then executed, reducing him to nothing more than the average citizen at most, but that wouldn't be enough. The kingdom didn't wish for any further blood--the exile that Asha had nearly run into headfirst was reserved for the foul priest, no matter his protestations that it was for the good of the country. They'd already seen one lifetime's worth of efforts for a purported good. They never wished to see another.
With Asha free from her prior state, she could learn to be herself once again. She could truly start over. And with that freedom, the new age could finally appear.<</linkappend>>
<<linkappend "The upending of everything they'd ever known:">>It was much easier to interact with Asha now that she didn't have a chip built into her shoulder. Rishi had managed to <abbr title="He still wore his cock ring though. He liked the sensation, and who knew when others would possibly use charm magic. Better safe than sorry.">disable her charm magic</abbr> from being active all the time.
With Asha no longer feeling the need to pursue Kiran, that allowed the nilgai to feel comfortable enough to try and work out what exactly the future would entail. He'd had enough unexpected surprises for a lifetime, and preferred to create his own fate at this point.
Their results were equal parts shocking and bizarre.
"The new age is about ushering in new life?" Kiran asked. Rishi's analysis of where their blessings would intersect to create synergies was hard to refute. The implications however, were still being argued for.
"That doesn't seem very new," Asha said. She stroked her chin, pretending as though she could comprehend the intricate document before her. Maybe if she had proper education instead of the crimes Piara committed, maybe it would have made sense. At this point, the Holy Maiden was more than fine with not knowing how to read the strange script nor understand the underlying details.
"There must be more to this, Asha. Come on. Think!" Kiran pleaded.
"Why me?" The snow leopard blinked rapidly, uncertain as to what she could even contribute barring the magic of her blessing.
"Because you're from another world, Asha..."
"Oh right, I forgot I told you that." Some days she questioned if it was the right decision, but given they could already control her life given her status, she felt it behooved her to disclose, if only to garner more sympathy from those who had the power to make decisions on her behalf. This bunch didn't try to use her outright like the holy temple did, although at times like this she questioned if it was worth admitting if it meant she had to be asked stupid questions.
"Hmm... what's the mortality rate for births?" she started, trying to think back to what she knew of childbirth in her past life. "Do women often die in childbirth?"
"It's not the best," Kiran admitted, "but we do have some excellent rotes for the purpose of easing the pain. I don't think we lose too many babies, although I'm admittedly not very well versed in that information. My parents only had me, and my friends were all born within the same age range as me."
"That's good, albeit it doesn't solve our issue. If the standard process works, then it must be something that's irregular. Can we grant life to the inanimate now?"
Rishi cackled. "Don't be absurd, Asha. Life only goes into that which is meant to live."
The Holy Maiden rolled her eyes. "Don't be rude while I'm brainstorming, especially when I was asked to brainstorm by your prince, little man."
The yellow-throated marten had the good temerity to look embarrassed. He <abbr title="This was something he picked up from Asha's habits. She was the first person who locked her mouth and threw away the key in this world. However, that wouldn't be the last of the many firsts she'd continue to introduce over time.">mimed shutting his mouth</abbr>, letting Asha feel as though it was fine to continue.
"I doubt it's anything to do with raising the dead. That's not allowed, right?"
"That's impossible, Asha. Those who are gone never return."
"Does that include doors now sprouting new life? Could that be it?"
It was Kiran's turn to blink rapidly. "You're asking if making wooden doors sprout is our world changing revelation?"
"Why couldn't it be? That would allow us to <abbr title="Asha didn't go to school for math either.">generate infinite wood maybe."</abbr>
"No no, that's not the kind of life."
"It's very easy to say no. Typical men. Ask a woman to do something they won't do themselves." She crossed her arms and snorted, tired of putting in the effort of being shot down.
"Something they won't do themselves," Rishi muttered, studying his findings. His eyes widened as an unexpected revelation came to fruition. "No, this is stupid, it can't be this, can it?"
"Spit it out, little man," Asha demanded. "I already lost one lifetime, I'm not losing another to hemming and hawing."
"I think the two of you can make it so that the average man can get pregnant."
"Oh," Asha said, her cheeks ablaze. "We don't have to do that manually, right?"
Kiran bent over, bursting with laughter. When his mirth finally died away, he clasped Asha on the back in what he hoped was a warm gesture. "I think they'll have to do that on their own, but the magic we'll work will change the way the world works, if you're ready for it."
Asha nodded. The sooner she got this over with, the sooner she could live a life free of burdens, lofty dream that it was.
"But this would change everything--" Rishi started to protest, only for his words to be sealed with a single finger to the lips.
"That's our point. I'm here to usher in a new age, and she'll help. I think it's a change we could stand to benefit from." Kiran wouldn't stand for any backtalk from his mage, not when he was so close to knocking him up.
He joined his hands to Asha's and started channeling his magic through his blessing. Asha felt her own magic respond to the call, no effort needed, the two energies commingling and compounding until they shot through the roof straight to the sky, a brilliant beam of light. It unfolded over the world and then rained upon the land, little motes of light covering the entire planet, <abbr title="Nor sea.">no land left untouched</abbr>. When the magic subsided, Asha swayed from side to side and fell onto the ground.
"Is she alright?" Rishi asked.
"Just doesn't have the stamina like I do, but she'll be fine. She just overexerted herself. Do you feel any different?" Kiran replied.
"Not yet, but we'll see how it goes, won't we?"
"We can start trying now, if you'd like?" The prince's loins already stirred to attention, his desire threatening to overwhelm him.
"Not while she's here, Kiran!" Rishi protested. "...Maybe tonight though."
"Maybe tonight," the prince echoed, his words fading away just in time for the rest of the palace to swarm onto their position, to see what work the two had wrought."<</linkappend>>
<<linkappend "The New Age">>Kiran had <abbr title="His mother had done her duty, but they didn't feel the desire to attempt to have any more. Kiran was the prophesied child. Urmi's work was done. She wasn't going to have any kids with any of her other suitors, but she certainly wasn't getting knocked up by Kamal any further. That was part of their arrangement, and Kamal trusted her implicitly to hold it.">never expected to have any more siblings,</abbr> but he couldn't deny what he saw before his eyes. They'd gone through the proper testing procedures, so they ruled out the possibility that Kamal had eaten too much in the past few weeks.
No, it was all but certain. Life was gestating within the king, although he wasn't the only one bearing a new sign of life. <abbr title="Probably through the rest of the world too, although they hadn't heard any reports yet from other nations. Maybe they were keeping it under wraps. Maybe they were less sexually liberated. Time would tell, in the end.">Throughout the kingdom,</abbr> countless other men stepped forward with swollen bellies, carrying the evidence of the thrones of passion with another man, rumors spreading to the castle of the results of Kiran's and Asha's work.
When Asha heard of the news, she fainted. "Really? Mpreg?" she muttered, unwilling to even engage with the matter further. Chandra invited her into her estate, as there were a lot of changes going on, and she didn't begrudge the snow leopard her prior behavior. If anything, she may have <abbr title="Something about being spoken down to with a domineering attitude by a hot woman? That was foreplay, right? She was never really offended by Asha, except on Kiran and the other boys' behalf. It was just a job to marry Kiran, and it was seemingly more and more likely that it wouldn't be the case any longer in this new era, not that she minded. Being a queen would have been hard work.">liked it just a bit.</abbr>
It didn't matter how others felt though. Kiran was working on navigating his feelings of his impending sibling. At least, he thought it was only one sibling, until the duke arrived at the palace the following day and shyly sat next to Kiran's father, the mugger crocodile's stomach seemingly similarly displaced.
"Not you too," Kiran protested. He knew his father got around, but he wasn't expecting another addition to the family. One was already a shock. Two? He was already on the cusp of breaking. It was a good thing he had informed his boys to not do anything until the aftermath of his combined efforts with Asha were resolved. He wasn't ready to be a father just yet, although the idea of seeing his boys bearing his children was a hard thought process to break out of, tantalizing concept that it was.
"What can I say?" Kamal started. "Niraj is a very handsome man. We certainly weren't trying to get each other pregnant--"
"Not in the trying for children sense, that is--" Niraj hastily clarified.
"--RIght, this was just regular fun between lovers. You surely don't need me to explain that sort of thing to you, do you?"
"No," Kiran groaned. "Just be more careful. You're not so young anymore. Don't put your bodies through anything they can't handle."
The older nilgai shook his head, rubbing his swollen stomach. "Why, I went through a war. I think I'm ready to handle another kind of challenge, if I can have even a fraction of the strength your mother had when she was pregnant with you. Besides, you can't tell me you never wanted a younger sibling."
"Maybe when I was much younger," Kiran protested. "And I wasn't expecting two... it's only two, right? You've checked as to how many you'll be having right?"
Kamal and Niraj exchanged glances, sharing a coy smile. "Who can say?" the king said. "You'll just have to find out."
The prince rolled his eyes, leaning up against a wall for support. The thought of three younger siblings? More? The palace walls would be louder than ever. He'd have no more peace. No more sleep. It wasn't as though the duke could stay elsewhere while carrying another heir to the kingdom. He'd have to remain in the palace--not that it was a problem, Kiran appreciated the duke--perhaps for the rest of his days even.
In many ways, he was ecstatic for his father. He knew all too well of the love the two shared. It was self-evident to the court, if only in the form of Chandra's former engagement to him. And yet, that didn't mean he didn't crave his own peace and quiet. Kiran figured there would be only one thing he could do about this... ask his mother for tips.
There was another concern though... Niraj wasn't the only lover his father took. It was patently obvious. Kiran took after his father, he knew it. He knew where his father's eyes lingered, amongst other parts of his body. "And there's no other babies elsewhere?" the prince prompted, sweat running down his body.
"No."
"No?"
"Not yet."
"Not... yet?" He blinked rapidly, afraid of the potential implications to the family dynamic that was in place, and what that could mean for his relationship with his boys and considered that perhaps Asha was correct to faint as the floor rushed to meet his face.
When he awoke to the forms of his father, the duke, and the rest of his friends watching over him, the world made proper sense. This was it. This was the new age he'd ushered in. The possibilities were endless. No longer was he bound to Chandra, nor his father to his mother in the same manner. Whatever questionable constraints people had placed upon themselves were forcibly broken, alternatives now in place. It wouldn't be an easy path for everyone to get acclimated to the changes, but the same could be said for him, his earlier fainting spell proof enough. And yet, Kiran knew that once he got used to the new age, it'd be glorious.<</linkappend>>
[[The End For Now]]<img src="images/The Lusty Royal Court.gif" width="250px">If you enjoyed this and want more, there's a few things you can do.
1. Rate the game. If I get up to 100 ratings, I'll work on the ==dead links== and write the other sex scenes. More than 100? Fuck, I dunno, I'll get images. If you like my work, then show it! :P If this sounds familiar, it's because it's the part at the bottom of the game page, of which I pointed to for those who finished the work and not a moment sooner!
2. Go play my other works! The closet thing is <a href="https://ragmaan.itch.io/werewolf-conservation-program">The Werewolf Conservation Program</a>, where you get to choose your own path to being sexily transformed into a werewolf. Yay for you! You can also browse my itch.io page for other stuff you may have not scene before.
3. Comment and let me know your favorite bits. I don't know what people love the most if people don't tell me! Otherwise, I just do what appeals to me at a given moment in time, and frankly, my tastes seem a bit more eclectic than most :p
I hope you enjoyed! Thanks for reading!Note: Spoilers follow
Asha: The Holy Maiden, a snow leopard. She's accused Lady Chandra of some heinous things. Under the rule of the Holy Temple, ever since she got discovered as the Holy Maiden. Piara's charge.
Kiran: The prince, a nilgai. The Herald of the Next age, bethrothed to Lady Chandra. There's a lot of weight resting on his shoulders. Kamal's son.
Lady Chandra: Daughter of the Duke Niraj, a mugger crocodile, accused by Asha of behavior unbefitting the fiancee of the prince. She never loses her cool.
Amit: The son of the general, Dipak. A monitor lizard. Well trained, and always has Kiran's back.
Rishi: A yellow-throated marten. He may not be as powerful as his father, but he's wise in the ways of magic in his own right. Indra's son.
Ife: The fashionable speckled pigeon of the court. He may not want to be as adept as legal matters as his father, but that doesn't mean he isn't prepared to study all he can to protect his friends. Itri's son.
Kamal: The king. A niglai. The war left its mark, and he wishes for a better world for his son. A role model in almost every way for Kiran, psuedo-harem included. Kiran's father.
Dipak: The general, a monitor lizard. Competitive and for good reason. He's thrown his everything behind his king. Amit's father.
Indra: The court magician, so to speak. A yellow-throated marten. Coy and cunning in equal measure, his counsel is highly valued. Rishi's father.
Itri: A speckled pigeon. Once a refuge from another kingdom fleeing with only his son, now the head judge of the kingdom. He's come a long way. Ife's father.
Niraj: The duke. His efforts during the war were all too invaluable. The mugger crocodile is a highly valued member of the court. Lady Chandra's father.
Urmi: The queen. She works just as hard as Kamal, if not even harder. Her own cohort remains in the shadows. While her marriage was politically minded, she still loves Kiran and Kamal for who they are, and wouldn't give them up for anything. Perhaps the real brain of the kingdom, if asked. Kiran's mother and Kamal's wife.
Piara: Hierophant of the Holy Temple. A sneaky snow leopard. Lady Asha is his charge.
[[Cast of Characters]]