by Loki Renard
“The king is dead!” the captain of the guard cried out.
Their eyes went to Maxim. For a moment he considered taking the dagger from Isodor’s chest to defend himself and Sabine, but there was no need, for in the next breath, they heralded him.
“Long live the king!”
Chapter Fourteen
Long live the king.
If only it was so simple.
Maxim stood over Isodor’s coffin as it was lowered into a grave carved into rocky ground outside the city walls in the field where the souls of Ere took their rest. A great cliff looked out over stormy sea, and there the markers were laid, many thousands of them all commemorating those who passed.
Sabine’s father had been given a very different kind of funeral. He was interred beneath the palace in the royal catacombs, but both Sabine and Maxim had been determined that Isodor would not claim such an illustrious resting place.
Common gravediggers had hacked the grave into the rough ground and now worked with grunting, sweating bodies to lower the weighty casket. When it hit the bottom of the hole, they immediately began work to cover it, hurling silt and rock as fast as they could go.
A small and loyal contingent of guard were with Maxim and Sabine, but no others were present. Ere was not in mourning for their lost king. As much good as he had brought to the castle proper with the technology of the other world, his rule had been so cruel that there were none to mourn.
“No marker,” Maxim said as the grave-worker prepared to place the final stone, a large flat rock that would be carved with his name.
“Sire?”
“No marker for him. It would have been best he were not born. Let us not stain the world with his remembrance.”
“Aye, sire,” the common man said, bowing low. “So it shall be.”
The burial concluded without further words. Isodor would not be spoken of again. He who had crushed so many beneath his heel now lay beneath the weight of rock and soil and that was the end of things.
As they turned and walked from the grave, Sabine slipped her hand into his and looked up at him with sorrowful eyes. “I am so sorry.”
“What are you sorry for? You did not do wrong.”
“I know you loved him,” she said softly. “And in the end… I am sorry.”
In the end Isodor had betrayed everything. Not just their pact to rule, but their bond of blood. His betrayal, his sickness, his malevolence had all been far deeper than even Maxim had believed. There was no shred of good to cling to, no moment of soft memory. Everything had been a lie or a manipulation, all the way to the very end, up to and including Isodor’s confessions.
Their parents had passed early, when they were only thirteen. At the time it was said they had fallen ill of the fevers, but even then Maxim had suspected Isodor’s hand in the matter, not that anyone had listened to him when he’d tried to tell them. They said it was nonsense, that Isodor would never do such a thing. When their uncle had taken over the estate and perished but nine months later of a similar malady, the rumors began to spread, but still nobody had taken Isodor to task. In the end, their affairs were overseen by a fellow who was wise enough to let the boys have their way. In doing so, he had survived past their coming of age and turned the estate over to them. Isodor had taken it immediately, of course, and not long after Maxim had started seeking posts as far afield as possible. When there was finally nowhere in Ere to be free of his brother’s grasp, he took the opportunity to enter the other world. He and Sabine were both refugees of Isodor’s influence—and survivors of his final plot. In the end the darkness had won and turned on its old master. Isodor now lay in the soil of Ere. A brother lost forever.
He did not know whether he felt more misery at the passing of his brother, or relief that he would never again threaten anybody’s life. Maxim knew there was nothing to celebrate. The two worlds were poised on the brink of war like snarling dogs through a fence, and he would have to be the one to somehow wrest peace from this chaos.
They returned to the castle and Maxim went to the king’s private chambers—his private chambers—and sat on the window seat upon which a line of kings, deserving and not, had sat.
Sabine curled up next to him wordlessly, her soft, warm body a comfort, and a reminder that there was still good and beauty in the world. He let his fingers run through the golden strands of her hair and as the minutes passed by he felt the sadness begin to lift. Isodor was gone and that was good. Sabine had survived. He had survived.
He had begun to think over the years that evil always prevailed, that whoever was prepared to be darker and more cruel would win. But he now saw that evil would always consume itself, that it was a force that could not rest, could not be content and could find no peace. Evil was a relentless master that hounded those in its grasp to the grave.
They were free of the evil Isodor had cultivated within his soul and in its place were love and laughter, purity and the inimitable innocence that Sabine carried with her no matter what she went through. He vowed silently to protect that part of her, her heart that loved so easily and trusted so quickly. He would be the shield that protected her, and she would never be forced to flee again. Ere belonged to his pet princess.
He bent his head, turned her chin up toward him, and kissed her passionately.
“What was that for?” Her eyes sparkled at him.
“For everything you are, and everything you will be.”
She squirmed about and slid up into his lap, the beautiful curve of her bottom resting against his crotch. “What will I be?”
“The mother of many,” he said, his hand dipping between her thighs. She was wearing a long gown, but the material was slick satin and he felt the warmth of the core of her through the fabric as she spread her thighs for his fingers to trace gentle paths up and down her slit.
“Mother?”
“I want to make an heir,” he said. “And not merely one. I want to make so many heirs that the blood will never leave the throne again. This land is ours, Sabine. It is yours. We will honor all we have lost, the sacrifice your father made, by continuing his lineage for generations to come.”
Her moan of assent was all he needed as he pushed the fabric aside, pulled her over his cock and thrust inside her, his thick rod clasped by her hot inner walls. He needed her. He needed her wrapped around him, her writhing body grinding her sex against him with her desperate mewls of ecstasy. She was hot and wet and when he was inside her there was nothing else but her, her soft curves, her beautiful eyes, her lips so kissable; his mouth covered hers and plundered her mouth ferociously.
He loved this woman with every bit of his being. She was brave and bold, she had helped save his life and in the end, her actions had led him to the very throne itself. Her blood was too full of fire to ever truly submit, and in the coming coronation she could become queen to his king—but she would always, always be his pet.
Chapter Fifteen
Three months later…
“Hold still, pet.”
“I’m a queen now,” Sabine reminded him, giggling naked over his thighs.
Maxim looked down at his bride, just barely managing to muster a stern expression that was utterly wasted on the back of her golden head.
“You could be the empress of existence and you would still have to wear my collar here. Besides, this is a diplomatic mission, Sabine. You must be on your very best behavior. Now hold still and let me get this tail in.”
The young queen of Ere insisted on wriggling her shapely bottom until Maxim was forced to spank her soundly, his palm landing on her upturned rump as she gasped and giggled her way through the entire alleged punishment, which was not given with any real force whatsoever.
“You’re being a brat,” Maxim murmured, pressing his lips behind her earlobe. “You know this won’t end well for you.”
She gave a little moan and squirmed her cheeks against his palm. She had become quite accustomed to being spanked, had come to enjoy it and even act out by wa
y of asking for it at times. Her rosy rear was a common sight over his lap these days, a sight he very much enjoyed, especially as he spread her pink cheeks and applied a fresh dab of lubricant to her winking little bottom hole.
The tail plug was larger than the ones he had chosen before. He wanted her to have a real reminder of her position as pet. In Ere she was spoiled by the frequent obsequious behavior of those who adored and revered her as queen. There had never been such a popular young monarch. Her fall from grace and triumphant return to the throne had increased her legend many times over. She was not merely a queen. She was a beacon of hope to those who were struggling and suffering, a reminder that hard times could be overcome. She was the light of Ere, but now they were in Centillion territory, where women were pets and where Sabine was queen no longer, but the property of her owner.
“Eeeep,” she gasped as he pushed the thick end of the plug into her bottom. “That feels big!”
“Does it? Hmm,” he said, feigning ignorance. “Maybe you haven’t worn your tail enough lately. Maybe it’s been too long since you had my cock here as well…”
The plug was spreading her tight hole ever more as she gasped and let out pretty little moans and opened her thighs in a way that not only helped separate her cheeks, but put her glistening pussy on display as well.
A low rumble of arousal escaped him as he admired her form, her bottom stretching to take the bigger, longer plug with grace as it slowly settled into place. He had chosen a golden silken ponytail for her on this, a day on which he would be judged not merely as a king, but as an owner. It was engineered to arch up from her bottom and fall in a graceful shining fashion up and over her rear. It would give her a spirited appearance, which would certainly reflect her nature well.
Their first weeks in power had not been easy, and the situation would not be settled for quite some time, but in their love they had found a little place of peace sheltering them from the stress of the epic tasks that awaited them. Several tenuous treaties were in place, and Maxim noticed that Sabine had been quite eager to return to Centillion territory, even after the betrayal they had experienced there. He strongly suspected that her pet status was the reason. It was not easy for a princess to become a queen, to take on the mantle of responsibility and become a role model to millions. This little trip was to settle her nerves and remind her of her place as much as it was to forge deeper ties to the fickle Centillion state.
* * *
Sabine sighed a happy little sigh as the tail slid into place. It had quite a construction to it, being connected to a longer piece of stiff rubber that rose between her cheeks much like a thong and made the tail appear to be falling from where her tailbone more or less was. Maxim rubbed her cheeks, his hand passing beneath the soft hair, which fell over her bottom like a curtain as he toyed with it, making the thick plug stretch her all the more.
She could never have expressed her utter contentment in mere words. Their brief time in this territory had been strange and challenging, but it had broken her of her illusions as to what it was to be a woman, and what it was to have a man. It was here that Maxim had made her his pet. He had first cherished her here. First trained her here. And now, even as she laid her cheek against the cool surface of the couch upon which he was sitting to prepare her for a royal audience of quite a strange variety, she trusted him with all her heart.
“Did you hear me, pet?” He patted her bottom.
“Did I hear you threatening my ass? Yes,” she smirked at the couch. “I didn’t want to encourage you.”
“You think I need encouragement, brat?”
“Mhm,” she grinned, more to herself than to him. “You want me to beg and plead for you to not fuck my bottom… please, please, King Maxim, spare my rear…”
“You are spoiled,” he guffawed, spanking her tingling cheeks again.
“If I am, it’s because you spoiled me,” she replied. “Owners are responsible for their pets, remember?”
“Oh, I remember,” he said, toying with the tail so the thick plug slid in and out of her stretched rear in a way that brought a high-pitched gasp to her lips. “Do you remember, is the question.”
“Of course, my liege,” she said with another little giggle, which only grew higher as he smacked her bottom again.
She loved to tease him. She loved his reactions to her teasing even more. King Maxim had a hundred million matters to attend to, and yet he never let her feel forgotten. She could count on receiving some kind of reaction to even her smallest misbehavior, and now that she had been teasing him for some time, verging on disobedience, she knew she would soon be feeling his royal wrath.
Sure enough, his large hands reached for her slim wrists and he pinned her arms behind her back, lifting his thigh to prop her bottom up as he set about whipping her cheeks with the firm hand she so needed and adored.
“Mercy! Mercy!” she cried out as her cheeks began to sting in earnest.
“I’ll show you mercy when you show me submission,” Maxim replied, slapping her upper thighs.
“Owww! I yield! Please! Maxim!”
She was still gasping for mercy when he turned her in his lap and sat her up, kissing her deeply as she squirmed her hot, tail-filled bottom on his lap.
“I love you, my pet,” he said against her lips.
“I love you, my king,” she replied, her eyes sparkling with love, lust, and just a hint of tears of joy and discipline combined.
Epilogue
Both worlds were scarred with the chaos left in the dead usurper’s wake. With Sabine at his knee, Maxim took full control and became the king Ere had long needed.
There could be no closing of the gate. There could be no undoing of what had been done. And so Ere moved forward, the realm now reaching through time and space to the enclave Isodor had captured. It was, perhaps, the one bit of good he had done.
Over time, Maxim brokered treaties with other enclaves, extended the reach of Ere’s powers and opened new gates in other regions, allowing people of Ere to travel to the other world, and citizens of the other realm to visit in turn.
War was forgotten as trade flourished and even the poorest of Ere’s peasantry grew rich on the proceeds of their labors. The art of tending soil and animals had been lost to the other world, so those who had once eked out sustenance became wealthy in their own right.
At the heart of it all, at the place it had started, Maxim and Sabine built a great new palace, two buildings that spanned two worlds and yet appeared to be one construction to those who viewed it on either plane. It was the perfect metaphor for the union of worlds, and the gate that had always sat at the very center of Ere connected the two palaces. The beautiful spirals and turrets made for a strange sight in the middle of the rectangular jungle of New New York, but soon the architectural style began to spread and what had been a filthy concrete jungle was slowly born anew in gleaming spirals and impressive pillars and great shining paths.
In time, Sabine bore Maxim seven sons. Dark-haired, blue-eyed, with their mother’s faith and hope and their father’s strength of spirit, they became lords of the new world and the old. The oldest, Alistair, took the throne of Ere and his six brothers claimed kingdoms of their own until centuries later there was no such thing as Ere and Other, but a single world spanning time and space, the great kingdom of Erother.
The End
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