The King's Pleasure

by Carlos Malenkov

Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Ma/Ma, Consensual, Reluctant, BiSexual, Heterosexual, Historical, Anal Sex, .

Desc: Sex Story: Going back to the dawn of civilization to get to the bottom of anal sex...

Copyright© 2004 by Carlos Malenkov

The temple courtesan frowned and shook her head emphatically. "No, sire, that modality of pleasure is only permitted to the High King."

Goriander smiled. "But who is to know? And of course there is the matter of a suitable reward for unfolding thy treasures fully unto me." A small gleaming ingot lay in the open palm of his hand.

She hesitated, then nodded. "Come," she said.

"You are a trader in certain rarities then?"

"Yes, my fair Astara, and the rarest of all rarities is knowledge, the knowing of the means by which to accomplish certain difficult tasks."

"Such as?"

"Such as, for example, separating that which glitters from its ore."

"Indeed, sire, the noblest of metals, that which shines like unto the sun itself."

She lay on her belly on a fur spread out on the baked clay-tile floor of a small back room in the temple. Her legs splayed out wide and her long black tresses reached almost to the gleaming alabaster globes of her bare buttocks.

Those magical buttocks had given him ecstasy beyond measure scant moments before. She had opened those selfsame buttocks and admitted him to that chamber reserved for the king. Anointed with a certain salve, his member had penetrated into the dark cavern in her backside and deeply into her most secret part. Ah, the burning heat and clutching tightness of that nether passage!

"And now, lord, permit me to summon a maidservant to serve thee nuts and sweetmeats to refresh thy ardor." She rang a copper handbell and... a troop of temple guards boiled into the room, easily subduing Goriander.

"What is the meaning of this? I am a peaceful merchant, and moreover a nephew to the tribal elder of -- "

The commander of the guards laughed. "Usurp the prerogative of the Great King, would you? Pay the price then, filthy outlander."

Lying prone, face to the ground, with wrists and ankles tied behind him, a stripped-naked Goriander struggled with his bonds. No use. These were well-tanned leather straps and restraints. He was trussed up like a sacrificial goat. He tried to recall whether Marduk, the local deity, fed on humans, demanded living bodies be thrown into his flaming belly.

Betrayed by Astara. He should have known better than to trust a lying, conniving common temple whore. And yet he couldn't find it in himself to regret the uncommon favors she had granted him. The slippery pulsating grasp of her forbidden passage and the regrettably painful death that no doubt awaited him, oh! Betrayed by his rampant member. Fool!


The harsh voice of doom penetrated his gut like the double-edged blade of a newly-sharpened bronze dagger.

"Thou needst not prostrate thyself, for in truth thou art prostrate, if somewhat involuntarily. Rejoice that I am the master of thy fate, as I am the master of all who live and draw breath within my realm. Indeed, look upon me and despair."

Uruk-Agina, High King of Kish. Supreme overlord of all the Sumerian city-states. Master of the fate of thousands. Master of his fate.

"I am honored, my Lord, that you will personally take from me my life. How then is it to be? Will you cut from my belly my liver to feed the holy flames of Marduk? Am I to have my arms and legs bound to racing war chariots to be pulled limb from limb as a spectacle for cheering throngs of your subjects? A royal spectacle indeed. Command it to be so and have done with it."

"Not so, fool. Thou wilt pay in the royal measure, but not with thy worthless life. Something greatly more precious than that hast thou to give, namely that which thou hast taken from the temple courtesan, that which is ordained for me, and me alone. Such is My Word, and such is the law of the land. From the robber shall be taken that which has been robbed."

A fate worse than death, then. The High King was to take him as a man takes a woman. His hind passage was to be honored with the Royal Member.


Two burly temple priests held Goriander from behind and forcibly spread his legs apart. A third began applying a strong-smelling emolument onto his buttocks, then in the valley between the cheeks. It burned like fire at first, then the muscles in his legs and hind parts numbed and relaxed. His rear entrance throbbed and felt as if it had swollen to several times its normal size, but the sphincter muscles no longer responded to his will. He could not clench his opening shut. Goriander had been ritually prepared for possession by the Great King.

Amidst the flicker of the smoky torches lighting the room and the cloying fragrance of burning incense, the chanting of the priests droned in a hypnotic rhythm. Goriander peered back over his shoulder and saw the Great King approaching him from behind with rampant member. A shout arose from the priests as he felt his hind cheeks parted and then... something burning hot pierced high up into him and he was split asunder.

To his surprise, there was little discomfort as he felt the Great King thrusting deep inside him. In some strange and perverse manner the sliding friction of the Royal Member within his bowels aroused him. Goriander sensed his own member engorging and a rising pressure within his guts and sinews signaled his own mounting excitement... and now he was building up to a vast surge of release. Release of all the hate and fear and lust and desire his mortal flesh contained. The blood sang within his ears and he groaned in helpless rapture. He was spilling his own seed!

Goriander was spasming in climax and now he felt a warm liquid gush within him as the Great King sighed with pleasure. He had served as a receptacle for a male member. He had been used as a woman. He had been robbed of his manhood.

"It appears, my handsome, forlorn merchant in rarities, that thou hast perhaps not irrevocably lost that which makes you a man."

Astara, dear sweet traitorous Astara, was attending to his needs in the tiny cell. Goriander was shackled to the wall, but the straw sleeping mat was not uncomfortable and the even the food was somewhat tolerable.

"Come then, do once more unto me that which plunged you in such dire straits."

Astara had brought his member to full hardness by taking it between her red-painted lips and ministering to it with her artful mouth.

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