The men of the kingdom were blessed with enormous cocks. When engorged, they stood hard as tree trunks, a full foot of pulsating man meat. Their loads were thick and heavy, hot explosions of white cum that plastered any body they came in contact with in sheer, unadulterated sex. There were hundreds of them lined up along sides of the hundred meter carpet weaved to resemble a swollen cock, a thin, faded purple vein traveling down the middle of the thickly-woven skin colored carpet. The carpet went up a set of twenty stairs, where it ended at the Throne of the Mortal Goddess, Areem Hahs. On either side of the throne were two massive marble structures, about ten meters in height, resembling the glory of the male genitalia. And on either side these, stood two relatively small gilded cages of gold, each containing two gorgeous enslaved blondes from the neighboring kingdoms.
Areem Hahs stood before the swollen congregation of her worshippers. She was petite, and fair-skinned, the eighteen-year old descendent of the original mortal goddess, Adnama, who reigned decades ago. Her purple gown hugged her slim, tight body and her long, magical mane of dark, obsidian black hair blew in the breeze that entered through the high upper windows and through the palace. She held the Sword of Lust in her hands, a giant, heavy broad sword, the ornate handle intricately carved to resemble a swollen hard cock. It was embued with magic, and when the situation became tense, like it was now, the handle itself would throb. With two hands, the Queen held the sword high above her head.
“My warriors, my worshippers, my servants,” she bellowed, her voice echoing off the cavernous walls of the palace. “You must bring me my sister! The traitor! It is our destiny to rule this world, to find our rightful place at the top. These blonde sluts from across the pond-“ she gestured to the gilded cages on either side, which contained two beautiful blonde teenagers, naked except for the leather high heel boots that came up to their knees- “Can no longer lay claim to being the righteous leaders of this world, the most desired of the desirable. It is our right! We are the most lust-worthy! All hail your Queen!”
The hundreds of warriors lining the carpet, all grabbed their cocks. Immediately, all became instantly, emphatically hard, and they began to stroke, chanting “Areem Hahs Areem Hahs” over and over until they spilled their seed on the marble floor before them. The floor shined in a sheen of glistening cum, loads and loads of it. The far doors on either side opened up, and a series of chained slaves, skin the color of chocolate, were released to clean up the mess. As they approached either side of the carpet, they dropped to their knees, and began to lick the hot loads of cum off the palace floor. At the end of each line, two female guards, dark in complexion with flowing dark hair, stood over the slaves with whips. And at the end of the carpet, overseeing what seemed to be not only the slaves and their guards, but the warriors themselves, stood Ahcetok, the Mortal Goddess of War, Areem’s right hand woman.
Ahcetok watched the procession in front of her with detached amusement. Three hundred warriors, cocks spent and flaccid. Twenty Nubian slaves on their knees slurping up their cum, while half that many guarded them with whips on hand. The two blonde captives in the gilded cages, their blue eyes cutting through the earth tones of the palace like arrows over the kingdom walls, and last, but certainly not least, her majesty herself- her beauty almost too much to withstand, a youthful innocence drowned under an endless lust for cock and power. Ahcetok found her irresistible, yes; but she also found her master stupid and ignorant, and this made her infinitely frustrated. And yet, she knew, she would find herself on another mission dictated by her Queen, and she would find herself, yet again, moving the pieces to fit her own narrative. It was deceptive, she knew. But she didn’t care. In this deceipt there was power. And Ahcetok, above all, craved that power.
She was thin and svelte, gazelle-like. Her legs were long and awe-inspiring, and her torso was lithe and slender, almost serpentine. Her long, obsidian hair reached down to the middle of her back, and she accented her dark brown eyes with heavy eye-liner, and thick long eyelashes. Dark, blood red lipstick, which matched her long nails completed the image. Her body was clad from head to toe in a tough, magically-tinged leather armor, accentuated with heavy chains around her waist and wrists. A collar around her neck, protected with impossibly sharp diamond spikes announced to all in the kingdom that it was she alone that handed out sentences of life or death. And all cowered before her in fear, but admired her in absolute sensuous passion, because- above all else- Ahcetok AahsI was an absolute perfect being.
As the last Nubian slaves licked up the last drops of cum from the palace floor, the warriors began to file out, past the gilded cages and the queen herself. Ahcetok, remained standing at the end of the carpet, her hands on her hips. She saw Areem standing defiantly in front of her throne, looking past her to the door. As the last warrior left the building, Areem spoke up.
“Ahcetok, my darling,” she bellowed. “We both know where my sister has gone.”
Ahcetok remained standing, staring at her master with tired eyes.
“The Kingdom of Aidni is the only one standing before us and complete victory, and these SLUTS-“ she gestured towards the two chained and imprisoned blondes- “know exactly what that means.”
“But my sister. My only sister, my blood and flesh. She believes that I am wrong.”
With this, the queen walked to the cage to the right of the throne. She looked down, and slowly spit onto the big-tittied blonde. The spit hit the slave’s golden blonde hair, and dripped down onto her forehead. She was broken, the blonde, and made no response one way or the other. The queen grabbed the sides of the cage and shook it.
“Find my sister,” she said. “And when you find her fill every single hole. Every. Single. One. And make her realize that a peaceful unity among these kingdoms will never be possible. I want to hear her screams from the ends of the world.”
“I, Ahcetok, am the cock master. I am the ruler of the throbbing tool. And I shall be the one and only. Find her. Fuck her.”
“And then,” she paused, petting the hair of her captive. “Kill her.”