Chapter 1

She walked inside Vaniat tavern, delighted when the obnoxious voices quieted down. Her entourage of guards warned her of the wild men inside here but she didn’t pay them any mind. She had experience with them. Her deceased husband a raunchy man. Her guards walked ahead and rough-housed the men, woman, and a gelatine away from a table. Difficult to tell the gender of a gelatine.

She sat down behind the cleared table, her eyes focused on the gelatine. It looked small compared to others she’d seen. About the size of a twelve year old child. Its exotic body colored bright purple. It formed a four-fingered hand from its gelatinous substance and waved.

Smiling she thought it must be a young gelatine. Waving back at it she motioned for it to come forward. Nodding when the gelatine pointed at itself. Gelatinous creature bobbed and glided, effortless in its movement on the shoddy floor. Paying no mind to the ruffians whispering and grunting, knowing her guards would deal with it. It stopped next to her.

Reaching forward she touched it. Thick, cold and she squeezed and it felt jelly-like. The creature formed a second hand without fingers and she couldn’t stop smiling when it imitated her. She patted its head and motioned for it to leave.

It left her feeling amazed. It stood a few meters away from her and its hand still held her wrist. It shifted, turning more watery and flowed from her wrist down to her hand and between her fingers until it dropped. It then disappeared, fast but slow enough for her to see it melt back inside the gelatine.

It waved again and left, gliding through the crowd, its body turning smaller and slimmer to fit through the tight-packed room.

“Amazing,” she said, her gentle voice a mere whisper in the midst of talking.

“Isn’t it?”

Mikason sat down on the opposite side of her, taking a sip and sighing. “That’s good stuff.”

Mikason, a horrible man but a fierce knight and commander of her entourage. Stories of him butchering his enemies still floated around in her kingdom. And his face disturbed her. An ugly scar ran from his right eye down to his jaw, it horrified her.

“The gelatine,” Mikason said. “They are wondrous creatures, aren’t they?”

She agreed. “Where did they come from?”

Nobody knew and she read plentiful of stories and researched books. Should have burned those books. How a woman could get pregnant from water and give birth to a creature like gelatines? Never mind the one where the gelatine are reincarnated gods.

“I believe no one knows, though, there are theories,” he said. “I think that some ancient sorcerer that dabbled in the arts of mystical creation made them. Accident or on purpose.”

“No! Our god Kazhume created them!”

Mikason scowled, finished his drink and stood up.

The way his scar became more prominent when he flushed crimson with anger. He strode away from the table and she winced hearing the cracking of a bone and a pained scream. Cult worshipers of Kazhume deserved the worst. Mikason stood over the worshiper shaking, and the worshiper laid on the floor crying and holding his broken arm. Mikason’s fist lashed forward and she heard the sharp crack of worshipers nose and saw him pass out.

“What are you looking at?!” Mikason shouted. “Throw this trash pile out!”

Giggling when Mikason winked at her and his underlings picked up the pace and hurried to throw the worshiper out. Oh how she hated coming here sometimes but it’s something she’s learned to do since she became a Queen. Her husband taught her that people will love her more when she showed herself, walked the streets, visited merchants and others.

“Milady,” a voice she heard, a young man’s voice.

Turning her head she saw one of her guards blocking her view of a young man who kept repeating her name.

“Let him through,” she said.

The guard looked back, eyebrow raised, he turned back and stepped to the side. Eugh. A peasant. Ignorant, dumb and filthy people but she didn’t hate them. She recognized the good labor work they did. And it’s good they worked for low wages and didn’t know to demand more.

He looked much better than other peasants she’d seen. Cleaner, and even his dark brown although messy looked washed. Curling her lip she felt disgusted by his stained brown white shirt and his beige shorts ripped and dirty. His unwashed feet disgusted her but she had to give him props for the muscles he had from hard-work, washed hair and clean-looking face.

Recognizing the fan adoration in his bright green eyes that she noticed in most citizens of her kingdom. Looking him over again and noticed what she didn’t see before. It caused her eyes to widen and she would have gasped if it weren’t for her tight control of emotions.

Her husband had walked with a bulge around and she got used to it. But to have a peasant walk up to her with a obvious bulge. It’s different and she could have made a scene about this and had him thrown out. Deciding not to, she kept silent wanting to hear what this peasant boy with a bulge had to say.

“Milady,” he said, breathless and excited.

His hot breath smelled worse than her dog and she changed to a emotionless mask. “Yes?”

He plopped down on a seat next to her. A guard behind her coughed. How brazen must this boy be, he shouldn’t have sat down where a royalty sat. If he wanted to he should’ve asked for permission beforehand. Shaking her head she saw Mikason whispering to another and both chuckled. Whispers circled in the crowd and she heard some, most of it about the boy next to her.

The boy leaned forward, his elbows on table, and she felt dumb leaning forward too as if he were sharing a secret.

“I need gold,” he said, “to support my family.”

The peasants came and asked for gold now and then. It’s to support families, start up a business that dries out in a week or buy tools that are needed. Despite her hard attitude towards the peasants they were still her loyal subjects and worked labor. And she knew her council, nobles, and rich folks wouldn’t do manual labor.

She nodded. She motioned for a guard to come close. “Get this boy home and look at how well off his family is and report back,” she said, whispering in his ear.

“Stand up, boy,” the guard ordered. “And take me to your home.”

Ominous, she thought, watching the boy stand up on shaking legs, noticed the fear in his eyes and the paling of skin. Her voice soft she told the boy she needed to know that his family needed the support. The boy nodded, accepted her reasoning and led the guard out the tavern. Observing them leave she decided to leave too. Annoyed with the return of obnoxious loud voices and disgusting tales once the folks inside Vaniat noticed she didn’t plan to leave. She saw a couple of punches thrown on the other side of the room even.

Standing up, turned and she left for the exit. A circle of guards formed around her, one spot she noticed remained free and she saw him speaking with the Vaniat owner. Chuckling, she saw Mikason turn around and head towards him.

“Hey, watch it, pretentious ass!”

“Piss off!”

She felt a tight squeeze of her buttocks rumpling her dress and turned not before she felt a quick slap there. Her yelp sent the place into a frenzied chaos. Screaming and shouting exploded around, her guards jumped into action. They pushed the men further away from her and others dragged and held the insane laughing adventurer to a table.

Mikason hurried over, shouting and screaming, furious and demanding to know what happened. His underlings told him. Watching it all, her olive cheeks crimson red with fury, her buttock ached and her arms shaking.

“Cut his filthy hand off and feed it to starving dogs!” she said, her voice thunderous.

Tightening in her stomach. Not now she thought. Heat between her thighs and she cursed the mad witch and her last-breath curse. Quivering, she squeezed her hands to a fist, an intense urge to rip her dress apart to expose her chest, drop down on her knees and plead for fat and long cocks.

Wet panties clung to her pussy, her wetness trickled down her thighs. She hurried out of the tavern, stumbling on her feet and her eyes wide. Leaving the tavern she heard Mikason’s voice and the agonized scream of a begging man.

Turning away from the tavern she ran down the main street. From here her palace looked so far away and she doubted she could make it. Citizens stopped and watched her, and she felt her popularity crumble a little. Blushing pink she continued moving on. Further ahead, she noticed the peasant boy from before and her guard.

Why were they still here? She thought. Ah. They were walking, yes, but at a slow pace and kept stopping to look at stalls and various objects there. A thought struck her. Yes! She didn’t need to run to her palace.

“My Queen,” the guard dropped to a bow once he noticed her.

The peasant bowed, “Milady.”

Focusing on the peasant who’s name she didn’t know. The two men straightened up. Unabashed she looked at his bulge and glanced at his muscles. Silence, it continued and the voices of others faded. It is her, and his impressive looking bulge. Licking her lips she kept hearing her name.

Nueleth. Milady. Nueleth.

“What?” she said sharp as a knife.

The guard who’s name she didn’t care to know flinched, stepped a foot back, his mouth opening and closing.

“Just leave!” she waved him away.

Shaking on his feet the guard hurried away, disappearing quickly from the pointing of onlookers and their laughs. The peasant stood there, a quivering leaf, lips trembling and fearing for the worst.

“Boy!” she said. “What is your name and where do you live?”

“Rylath, milady,” he said, stumbling over his words, “and I live over there.”

She tried his name, finding that she liked it and she glanced at the building he pointed at. A run-down one-floor house, yellow paint peeling off dark-wood walls and a hole in the roof. Glancing back down at his bulge. She went ahead of him, moving with a quick pace towards his home, and passing citizens with calm grace.

“Watch where you’re going filth!” she heard behind her a nobles voice.

“Sorry,” Rylath said, hurrying up to his queen, and turning around he shouted an apology again.

“You shouldn’t have apologized,” she said, standing in front of a rotten wooden door. She curled her lip. “This is where you live?”

His answer positive and snappish. Must’ve not hidden her distaste well. Oh well, she turned the knob, opening the unlocked door and stepping inside a surprisingly clean room. Stench of sweat, beer and a slight scent of a woman’s perfume lingered in the air. The door closed behind her. The furniture looked in good shape, old and dusty.

“What do you--” she said, releasing a pitched shout when he yanked her by the shoulder and found herself in the embrace of a peasant boy. Feeling his bulge against her inner thighs through her dress.

“What was that?” she said after he released her, patting and smoothing her dress

His eyes were wide and he looked shocked. “There’s a loose nail on the floor there.”

Looking where he pointed she couldn’t see anything. Bending over, her dress riding higher, exposing her thighs, lower backside and she saw it. Turning around, she thanked him, his face flushed red and smiling she thought he must’ve seen something of her when she bent over.

“You’re--you’re welcome.”

Powerful surging heat spread from inner thighs, from the exact spot where she felt his bulge--no--cock touch. It spread to her feet and toes, to her chest and neck, experiencing intense desire and bliss.

“Fuck!” she spat, she hated that mad witch. Oh how she desired to see her execution again. With her husband, her curse seemed easy to control. Now that he’s deceased it didn’t seem easy and her eyes fixated on Rylath’s bulge.

“Is something wrong?” he said.

“No,” she said. A surging wave of heat rippled across her body. Quivering, she thought, what if this peasant boy could help her. “Nothing is wrong. It’s all good.”

It looked like he didn’t believe her. That’s okay she thought. Swaying her hips she strutted over to him, loving his eyes on her chest and she circled him. Stopping behind him she leaned her head forward, her lips inches from his ear she whispered his name.

The boy moaned, his knees shaking.

Exhaling in his ear she touched his back, a single finger moving down his spine feeling him shake. Taking her finger away she took hold of his firm butt and squeezed his delectable rear.

“Milady... ?” he yelped

She shushed him, enjoying the moment, her other hand sneaked under his shorts and below his underwear. Pushing her breasts against his back she felt him froze gripping his stiff cock. Mouth widening, it felt much thicker than her husband’s did. Moving her hand up and down once. An inch or two longer than her husband’s.

“That’s a hard cock you have there, boy.”

“Uhh, thanks, but what are you doing?” he said.

“Isn’t it obvious?” she squeezed his shaft, hearing his soft moan she began moving her hand, stroking the peasant boy’s cock. “I’m touching your cock and fondling your butt.”

“Huh-uh,” he moaned and thrust his hips forward. “Why?”

Stop with the questions, silly boy, and enjoy what I’m doing. “Because I want to. Do you want me to suck your cock, Rylath?” she said, her hot tongue grazing his neck.