The King’s Concubine (a fantasy story)

The King’s Concubine
(A fantasy story)

King Affame XI was interrupted, again, by the Chief Eunuch of his Concubine Palace.

Knowing what was coming, he sighed and impatiently said “Yes!?”

“Sire, forgive me for intruding on your excellency, but three more slaves have now entered their time and are needful of your attention.”

King Affame groaned. When he was young, this duty had its pleasures. But by now it was a tiresome chore. He sought to delay the inevitable:

“What are the numbers so far this year?”

“Sire, 137 are currently with child, 284 are in milk for your offspring, 97 have weaned and are nearing dismissal, and 314 have been newly acquired and are in training for your pleasure.”

“Oh, 314”, the king muttered under his breath, “for my pleasure”, his voice tinged with sarcasm. It was all too much. This responsibility of a conquering King had become an irritation, but it was deemed a requirement by traditions going back 10 generations.

He grew thoughtful. “No, these three must wait another month. Bring me my most favored concubine.”

The Chief Eunuch hesitated out of fear for his role … and his head. “But, but Sire, the ancient dictates are clear: your seed must be spread!”

“No. The concubine Nourrir! Now!”

The Chief Eunuch grew pale. “Immediately, Sire,” and quickly retreated.

King Affame’s disposition softened to a blissful smile as he thought of her. It’s such a pity she’s a slave, he thought. Politics required that his next wife be a noble-woman, but maybe, just maybe, a decree of his could emancipate and elevate her? There would be many complaints and jealousies, but he was King, and that had to count for something!

Presently, the door opened and a woman dressed in silks quietly walked in and bowed to her waist. The veil covering her bosom parted, revealing the most enormous breasts of any concubine he had ever known, hanging plainly before him.

“Speak,” the king said.

Knowing his desires, the concubine Nourrir softly spoke: “I am very full for your needs, Sire.”

“Very good, come to me.”

Removing the veils from her bosom, Nourrir knelt and held up one of her extremely heavy breasts for the King. Solid sprays of milk immediately started from her thick, dark nipple.

Eagerly, the King leaned towards her and latched on. Oh what heavenly delight, he thought, as he started suckling. Milk positively gushed into his mouth and he swallowed vigorously. No other concubine came close to her wondrous breasts and the volume and quality of her milk!

As he nursed, his thoughts drifted wistfully to the possibilities of a new, boldly-changed future. One in which he ended the old dictates, freed all the concubines, turned away all the catty, gold-hungry noble-born suitors, and looked only to his most-favored Nourrir.

The two moved to cushions and laid together, with little but soft murmurs between the two to be heard.

<Months Pass>

The King sat high on his throne before a large audience of his subjects. Next to him sat a woman with enormously-jutting breasts. They glanced at each other almost constantly with evident love and affection.

Horns blared and a man in multi-colored regalia shouted to the audience: Behold! His Majesty King Affame XI and his Noble Queen, Nourrir the First!

Fin. 🙂