A Lord's Demands

[ma****]

This story is a work of fiction. It is also my first attempt to write a short story from a Dom point of view instead of a Sub one. And to be clear, I consider this consensual dominance, as the women who approach the ruler offer themselves in exchange for hope of royal favor. I hope you all enjoy.

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Here we go again. Another one. He suppressed a familiar sigh, but beneath the practiced indifference, a deep, restless current of anticipation stirred within him. This was the ritual, the endless procession of offerings, and sometimes... sometimes, one would truly stand out. He was always looking for that spark. That unexpected fire.

The woman was there before him, on her knees, head lowered in the traditional supplicant’s pose. The classic display of absolute submission. She’d even chosen a tight emerald green dress with audacious side slits and a plunging neckline for the occasion, a calculated move, certainly. He’d let these rumors of his supposed prefered tastes slip out himself, little lures into the vast ocean of his court, designed to expose clumsy manipulations. But sometimes, these carefully crafted performances transcended their initial intent, revealing a true artist. He hoped this was one such time, a flicker of genuine delight to break the monotony.

She moved forward, a slow, deliberate crawl across the polished marble, the rustle of silken fabric against the rich vermillion carpets a hushed counterpoint to her approach. Her voice, when it came, was a low, sultry whisper, perfectly modulated, carrying without effort in the cool, expectant air of the throne room. “Please my Lord, accept me as an offering, I am yours to do with as you will.”

Good delivery. More than likely, professionally trained. He found a strange kind of beauty in such practiced desperation. He gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, a flicker of acknowledgment. His attendant, a shadow he barely registered, gave an equally subtle signal, and the more visible of his palace guards melted away into the antechambers, leaving them in a more intimate, though still vast, space. The silent, ever-present help continued their endless vigil against dust, utterly irrelevant to the true play unfolding before him.

He rose from his resplendent throne, a slow, deliberate ascent that ***d her to remain frozen, anticipating. His gaze, unhurried, began its circuit around her. Blonde, yes, and eyes he now saw were a striking, intelligent green, sharp even through her demure posture. Her slender frame curved invitingly within the dress, a garment that, he noticed, truly did match her eyes with uncanny precision. A personal touch? Or had she correctly guessed his taste for strikingly colored eyes? He returned to his throne, a softer, more genuine smile ghosting his lips. Perhaps this one would prove more engaging than the last. He truly liked being surprised.

“Strip. And cast your garments into the flame. Show me what you truly have to offer,” he commanded, his voice calm, a quiet demand that left no room for refusal, yet carried an underlying current of challenge, almost an invitation for excellence. His eyes held hers for a searing moment as she dared to glance up, making sure she understood the weight of his words.

A moment’s hesitation. Good. She's not a doll. The stillness stretched, a palpable tension in the air, thick enough to taste. He watched her shoulders rise almost imperceptibly with a deep, shaky breath. She was weighing the stakes, calculating the irreversible step. Once her clothing was destroyed, her dignity, her direct connection to her people, would be severed, leaving her utterly exposed and dependent on his whim, utterly naked beneath his gaze. With a final, almost defiant exhalation, she rose to her feet. Her hands, surprisingly steady now, reached behind her neck, finding the knot that held the emerald dress. The fabric, once a symbol of her careful presentation, fell in a silken cascade, pooling at her feet.

She wore nothing underneath. The sudden, furious blush that bloomed across her bare flesh was more revealing than any garment, a vivid crimson against her pale skin, reaching down her neck and chest like a scarlet stain. Exquisite. He watched the goosebumps instantly prickle her bare arms and thighs in the cool air, a physical manifestation of her surrender to the chill and to him. Her eyes, still refusing to meet his, flickered to the discarded dress, a silent, almost ***ful yearning to cover herself. She walked to the brazier, her movements stiff but graceful, and with a silent, profound act of surrender, she tossed the beautiful outfit, undoubtedly a treasure her people had invested a considerable sum into buying, into the hungry, crackling flames. The silk hissed and curled, incinerating into nothingness, leaving her with nothing.

As the heat of the fire dissipated, she returned to where she had knelt, her movements more hesitant now, almost clumsy, her nakedness a heavy shroud of vulnerability. She sank back to her knees, head bowed, resisting the desperate urge to cross her arms over her breasts. The struggle was clear on her face, but she held herself rigidly, a testament to her resolve, to her understanding of the game. He felt a deep, slow burn of pleasure watching her. Her reaction here was not faked, nor scripted. This was her, bare to him at last.

He stood again, circling her once more. His inspection was thorough, unhurried, his gaze lingering over every curve, every shadow. Ample breasts, yes, with firm pink nipples, already pert and inviting in the chill palace air. A slim waist, almost delicate, but emphasizing her hips and the long line of her legs, a classic beauty, a timeless form, every hair save those on her head expertly removed. It was a profoundly pleasing sight, a raw offering. He returned to his seat, feeling a definite stir of engagement. This one had potential. Her breath had shifted, submission overpowering her feelings of exposure before his gaze. She wasn't acting anymore.

“I accept your initial offering. You will provide a taste of your service now, and if I am sufficiently impressed, you will return tonight for a more private audience. Should you serve me to my satsifaction, your boon will be granted.” His voice was a low murmur, closer to a promise than a command, but with the undeniable weight of absolute expectation behind it. He leaned forward slightly, his eyes finally meeting hers as she dared a glance upward, a look of momentary challenge crossing her face. “You will start by servicing me with your mouth. Now. Begin.”

A faint, almost imperceptible tremor ran through her, but she responded instantly, her resolve solidifying. With a fresh surge of determination, she moved closer, kneeling at the foot of his throne, and began her oral worship. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the immediate, exquisite sensation wash over him, her hungry mouth a skilled instrument. This was good. Very good indeed. An excellent first impression.

After a measured moment of indulgence, just long enough to fully assess her skill and enthusiasm, but before she could begin to achieve resolution, he reached down, placing a hand gently on her head, then nudged her softly to cease. "You have presented your initial offering with admirable skill," he said, his voice a low hum of approval. He allowed a brief, possessive grip on her hair before releasing her. "My attendant will instruct you on the preparations for this evening."

He gave a slight wave of his hand. His personal attendant, ever-present though unseen, immediately reappeared from the shadows, bowing deeply. The attendant offered her a heavy, silken robe, which she accepted with trembling hands, hastily wrapping it around herself, her face still flushed. With another bow to the ruler, she was led away through a side door to join the others, her future for the night now hanging precariously on his unspoken satisfaction.

The attendant then turned back to him, and he gave the man a subtle gesture. Without a word, a fresh, warm cloth was produced, and the attendant, with practiced discretion, knelt to clean him, removing any lingering evidence of the recent encounter. He watched dispassionately, a king accepting his due. Once tidied, his trousers were adjusted, leaving him immaculate once more. Only then did the attendant step back, bowing.

He settled back onto his throne, a slight smirk playing on his lips, a residue of pleasure still tingling in his core. He was indeed impressed with that last one. This evening promised to be enjoyable. He pressed a hidden button on his armrest. His next appointment was due. He looked towards the main doors, his eyes gleaming with renewed interest at how the evening was going.

The doors opened. Here we go again... he thought, expecting more of the same. Instead, his eyebrows rose in surprise. This time, a woman entered who utterly defied his expectations. She was a stunning redhead, her hair a fiery cascade. Instead of a dress, she wore an intricately crafted harness of black leather straps that crisscrossed her torso, emphasizing her ample breasts and cinching her slender waist, adorned with delicate silver rings and chains that glittered against her bare skin. A short, split skirt of shimmering, almost translucent black fabric barely covered her hips, revealing long, toned legs ending in thigh-high leather boots. She had clearly, and gloriously, ignored the "rumor." She didn't drop to her knees immediately. Instead, she took three slow, deliberate steps into the room, her head held high, her vibrant blue eyes locking with his across the vast distance, a challenging, almost insolent sparkle in them. Then, with a fluid, powerful motion, she sank to her knees, not a submissive collapse, but a deliberate act of choosing her posture, her gaze still fixed on him. Her voice, husky and confident, filled the space, laced with an intriguing hint of something untamed. “My Lord, I offer myself for your consideration, if you will be so inclined?”

Ah, now this... this was precisely the kind of unexpected entertainment he truly craved. A genuine smile spread across his face, not soft, but sharp, anticipatory. The game continued, and it had just become much more interesting.

Edited Saturday at 03:16 PM by maeceus