Fit for a King Ch. 01

Many hundreds of years ago, before King Arthur's reign had passed from living memory, and in a land so distant that the name of that country is no longer remembered in this part of the world, it so happened that the king was in search of a princess to be his wife.

The king traveled to the palaces of many friendly princes, lords, and earls, and brought with him a train of caravans filled with gifts for each ruler he visited. He courted their daughters with the manners of a gentleman. He presented flowers and poetry by morning, music boxes and baubles in the afternoon, and rings and necklaces at night. The princesses were charmed by him despite the gray in his beard, and the king was on each new acquaintance hopeful he had found his bride.

The king had been married once before to a peerless beauty, and indeed was married still. It was the king and his wife's great misfortune that as they consummated their wedding night, they discovered an irreconcilable incompatibility: the king didn't fit.

However, the king needed an heir, and so, with the blessing of his wife and the law of his country, he sought a second bride. Wherever he traveled, he brought riches for the families of the princesses, for the king had an unorthodox request: after three days of courting, the princess must either refuse him or submit to be fucked by him. If they were compatible, he would marry her at twice the usual dowry, to make up for the indignity.

The princes, lords, and earls were greedy for the king's riches, and so each and every one in the region had issued an invitation to the king. They instructed their daughters not to refuse the king after the third day of courting, assuring their girls that it was no betrayal of their virginity as long as they married the king shortly after.

Yet none of the princes, lords, and earls foresaw that each of their daughters would fail to withstand the king in bed. Many maidens fainted at the sight of the king's cock; others made an effort, but by the end of the night, each and every one had without fail begged for mercy. The king retreated politely each time, but he was becoming more and more frustrated as time went on. His list of invitations dwindled as he left a trail of deflowered princesses in his wake.

Only one invitation remained--that of the poorest satellite to the king's empire, many weeks' journey from the center of his rule. At this point, the king was desperate. He prepared his retinue and gifts, already depressed. He tired of looping pearls around the slender necks, of seeing rubies reflected in the round black eyes of bashful maidens. None of them would be able to stomach a man his size. Only the most experienced whores could take him, and most of them had the wisdom to refuse to try.

The king arrived at the poor lord's doorstep with a gift of furs, flour, and perfume. He was welcomed inside, and the three days of courtship began. The princess was short and sturdy, her hair done in two braids on either side of her face. She dressed in blue, and preferred a sensible style, rather than an overly decorative one. This taken in combination with her round figure and large breasts, she appeared more matronly than maidenly. When the king gave her baubles, she appeared at a loss for what to do with them. A silver hair comb was placed with a curt 'thank you' back in its box and sent away with a servant.

Despite this, the king and the princess got along well in conversation. The princess had talent as a storyteller, and the king was pleased to sit at attention. She knew all the stories of the classical heroes, but also the local folk legends, a few chivalric tales of romance, and even baudy comedies, which had the king in stitches of laughter.

As the three days passed, the king forgot on several occasions to give his gifts at morning, noon, and night. Although they had passed the time pleasantly, the king was shocked when the third night arrived and the princess consented to fuck him. She hadn't displayed any interest, except to be polite, and the king had come to understand that her father must have sent the invitation hoping that the kingly gifts would finance the next year's crops, marriage or not.

The king found himself led to the princess's receiving chamber. A servant opened the door onto the princess's bedroom. There were several couches for conversation, and the princess sat on one of these in a white nightgown. Unlaced of all her undergarments, her breasts spilled temptingly half-out of the low neckline. Through the thin layer of linen, he saw her black cloud of hair. The princess greeted him with a polite smile and invited him to sit and have some refreshment.

The king's heart thrummed as he sat down across from her. A servant poured the wine.

"I only ask, that in all our future dealings, you must never interrupt me in the middle of a story. If you can agree to that, I think we will get along very well," the princess said.

The king agreed.

"Then," said the princess, "I will tell one now."