The Emperor who Came and Conquered

King Emron paced up and down in his lounge, barefoot, his soft feet alternating between the cool stone, painted tiles and the much more comfortable layers of traditional rugs spread across the floor. This was his quiet thinking time, but tonight he was too preoccupied to concentrate. The emperor! Branan the Great! Or so he was called. He had arrived less than a week ago from across the sea. Supposedly a friendly visit yet he already seemed like a permanent fixture in the kingdom.

Emron’s chest heaved up and down beneath the loose fitting silk robe that ran down his toned body. He wore nothing else underneath for after his early night thinking, he liked to enjoy a bath with his valet, Kassan.

“Kassan!” The servant rushed in, his head bowed. “I’ll have my bath now.”

“Yes, Sir.” And he disappeared through the giant chamber doors.

Emron untied the belt around his robe and let the belt fall to the floor. A slight gap opened such that anyone with the indecency to gaze at the king would have caught more than eyeful. 

The king found himself walking to the balcony that overlooked the courtyard to the west. He watched the wisps of clouds above the distant mountains, as the last light of day faded away. But much closer, he gazed at the far walls of the palace and wondered which chambers the Emperor was staying in.

The soft, evening breeze blew the front parts of the robe further apart so now, the mighty king felt like he was wearing a cape. His entire hairy chest was exposed and only the edges of the balcony covered everything else from anyone who might be watching him. And he hoped the emperor was watching him. 

Earlier, the previous day, Branan, the emperor, had intruded on the king’s training session and challenged him to a traditional wrestling match. Emron, had agreed, he wasn’t one to shy from a challenge even one as big as the emperor; the man was a brute, a beast. He stood at over 6 feet tall with a barrel for a chest and boulders for biceps, next to him, Emron felt like the emperor could pick him with one hand and toss him across the room. But Emron, was stronger and more agile than he looked.

As the match began, it became clear, the emperor had no intention to win the match. He used every dirty trick he could think of to get Emron facedown in a headlock rubbing himself against the king’s firm glutes. At one point the emperor even had the nerve to plant a kiss right next to Emron’s lips.

“Enough!” Emron had finally forfeited the game. He was in danger of showing his excitement to all the men present. Which was nothing scandalous, but he did not want to give the emperor the satisfaction.

That was the last time he had seen the emperor. Since then, each moment had been spent thinking about the Emperor. He could still feel him pressing against him. He could feel his hands cupped against his chest. He could feel the sensual gyrating, the soft kiss. But most of all, he could feel a desperate emptiness inside him that desperately wanted to be filled by Branan the Great.

“Your Majesty,” a soft voice spoke from inside the lounge. 

Emron turned to look at Kassan, his servant, standing in the large doorway, his head slightly bowed, but his big brown eyes locked right on him.

“The bath is ready, sir,” the shy servant announced.

“Will you be joining me tonight, Kassan?” The king asked, taking one step closer so the servant could get a good look at what was on offer.

Kassan’s eyes left the king’s eyes, and slowly went down his face, his neck, the hairs on his chest, and his hard-

“I can see you’ve already started without me, Sir.” The servant replied as he turned around and let his own robe slide down his shoulders to the floor, revealing a slim body with long arms, and legs and a plump set of buttocks begging to be ravaged.

The king gripped his thick staff with both hands and walked towards the servant with a commanding gait, any thoughts of the emperor forgotten…for now.