Three days with Ethan had changed everything.
Valeria stood before her mirror, examining the evidence of her betrayal. Finger-shaped bruises on her hips. Bite marks on her inner thighs. A persistent ache between her legs that reminded her of his size with every step.
Tomorrow, Aelindor would return from patrol.
Her husband. Her partner. The elf she'd sworn eternal devotion to three centuries ago.
The guilt sat in her stomach like a stone. She'd spent three days in a haze of forbidden pleasure, and now reality crashed down around her. How could she look Aelindor in the eye? How could she let him touch her knowing what she'd done?
Knowing that she'd do it again.
A sharp knock interrupted her spiraling thoughts. A royal page stood at her door, bearing the King's seal.
"Captain Valeria, His Majesty requests your immediate presence in his private study."
Her blood turned to ice.
The King's *private* study. Not the throne room. Not a formal audience.
He knew.
"Tell His Majesty I'll attend within the hour," she managed, her voice steady despite the terror gripping her heart.
The page bowed and departed. Valeria sank onto her bed, mind racing.
Someone had seen. Someone had reported. The King knew about Ethan, about their three days of depravity, about her complete betrayal of everything she'd sworn to uphold.
She could be executed for this. Exiled at minimum. Her career destroyed, her marriage annulled, her reputation shattered.
But worse than any punishment was the secret shame blooming in her chest—a small, dark part of her that wondered what the King would do to her.
An hour later, she stood outside the King's private study, her armor polished to perfection, her expression carefully neutral.
"Enter," his voice commanded from within.
The study was intimate, lined with books and artifacts. A fire crackled in the hearth. The King sat behind an ornate desk, his presence filling the room despite his relaxed posture.
King Aldric was ancient by elven standards—over a millennium old—but he appeared as a male in his prime. Silver hair, sharp features, eyes that missed nothing. He ruled their isolated kingdom with absolute authority.
And those eyes were currently fixed on her with an expression she couldn't read.
"Your Majesty." She knelt, head bowed.
"Rise, Captain Valeria. We're alone here. No need for such formality."
She stood, unease prickling down her spine. The King gestured to a chair across from his desk.
"Sit. We have much to discuss."
Valeria sat, back straight, hands folded in her lap. The perfect picture of military discipline. Inside, her heart hammered.
"Do you know why I've summoned you?" the King asked, his tone conversational.
"No, Your Majesty."
"Don't lie to me, Valeria." His voice hardened. "You're many things, but you've never been a liar. Until recently."
Her throat tightened. "Your Majesty, I—"
He raised a hand, silencing her. "I know about the human squire."
The words hung in the air like an executioner's blade.
"I know about the three days you've spent in your quarters with him. I know about the sounds you made. I know about every oath you've broken."
Valeria's face burned with shame. "Your Majesty, please—"
"Did you think I wouldn't find out?" He stood, moving around the desk. "Did you think you could corrupt yourself with human filth under my roof and escape notice?"
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'll accept any punishment—"
"Will you?" He stopped in front of her, close enough that she had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes. "What punishment fits a captain of the Queen's Guard who spreads her legs for a human servant?"
Tears pricked her eyes. "Death, Your Majesty."
"Death." He laughed, cold and sharp. "How dramatic. But that would be wasteful, wouldn't it?"
He returned to his desk, opening a drawer. He pulled out a crystal, its surface swirling with magical energy.
"Do you know what this is?"
Valeria shook her head.
"A scrying crystal. Tuned to your quarters." He set it on the desk between them. "I've been watching you, Valeria. For weeks now."
Horror flooded through her. "You... you watched?"
"Everything." His smile was cruel. "I watched you take that human cock the first time. I watched you scream his name. I watched you come harder than you ever have with your delicate little husband."
Valeria wanted to die. Wanted to disappear. Wanted anything but this humiliation.
"Look at it," the King commanded.
She didn't move.
"LOOK."
She forced herself to look at the crystal. Its surface rippled, showing a scene from two nights ago. Her on her hands and knees, Ethan behind her, taking her with brutal efficiency. Her face was visible in perfect clarity—eyes rolled back, mouth open in ecstasy.
"Listen," the King said.
Her own voice echoed from the crystal: *"Harder! Oh gods, harder! You're so much bigger than Aelindor! Don't stop, don't stop, don't—"*
"Turn it off," she begged. "Please, Your Majesty."
The crystal went dark.
"Tell me, Valeria. Did you mean those words?"
She couldn't answer.
"Did. You. Mean. Them?"
"Yes," she whispered.
"Louder."
"Yes!" The word burst from her. "Yes, I meant them. He's bigger than Aelindor. He makes me feel things my husband never could. I'm a terrible wife and I don't care because it feels too good!"
The confession hung between them.
The King's expression shifted—from cold anger to something darker. Hunger.
"Stand," he ordered. "Remove your armor."
Valeria's hands trembled as she obeyed. Piece by piece, her ceremonial armor fell away until she stood in the simple undershirt and breeches beneath.
"All of it."
"Your Majesty—"
"That was not a request, Captain."
She stripped completely, standing naked before her King. His gaze traveled over her body, lingering on the marks Ethan had left.
"Come here."
She approached the desk. He gestured to the surface.
"Bend over it. Hands flat. Spread your legs."
"Your Majesty, what are you—"
"You've been fucked by human filth," he said coldly. "Now let's see what damage he's done to you."
His hand touched her, clinical and examining. Fingers traced the bite marks on her thighs, the bruises on her hips. Then he slipped between her legs, finding her already wet.
"Your body responds to authority," he observed, pushing one finger inside her. "Even after three days of debauchery."
Valeria bit her lip, trying not to react. But her body betrayed her, clenching around his finger.
"He stretched you," the King continued, adding a second finger. "I can feel it. Your tight little elven cunt, ruined by human cock."
"I'm sorry," she gasped.
"Are you?" He curled his fingers, finding a spot that made her knees buckle. "Your body says otherwise."
He withdrew his fingers, and she heard him move. Then his hand fisted in her hair, yanking her head back.
"You want to be punished, don't you? You want me to hurt you for what you've done."
"Yes," she admitted.
"But that's not what you need." He released her hair, moving to sit in his chair. "Turn around. On your knees."
She obeyed, kneeling before him. He was already unlacing his breeches.
"You've tasted human," he said. "Now taste your King."
When he freed his cock, Valeria's eyes widened. He was larger than Aelindor, though not quite as massive as Ethan. But there was something different about it—the authority it represented, the power it held.
"Open."
She parted her lips. He guided himself into her mouth, and she tasted her King for the first time.
"All the way down," he commanded. "Show me what you did for that human whelp."
She took him deeper, gagging slightly as he hit the back of her throat. His hand tangled in her silver hair, controlling her movements.
"That's it. Choke on it." He pushed deeper. "This is what happens to corrupted guards. They serve their King's pleasure."
Tears streamed down her face as he used her mouth, but she didn't resist. Couldn't resist. The humiliation mixed with something darker—arousal.
"You're getting wet again," he observed, his other hand reaching down to touch her. "You enjoy this. Being used. Being degraded."
She moaned around his cock, unable to deny it.
He pulled her off suddenly, and she gasped for air.
"Stand up. Turn around."
She obeyed. He bent her over the desk again, positioned behind her.
"Tell me," he said, his cock pressing against her entrance but not entering. "How many times did the human make you come over these three days?"
"I... I don't know. Too many to count."
"And your husband? How many times has he made you come in the last year?"
Silence.
"Answer me."
"Twice," she whispered. "Maybe three times."
"Pathetic." He pushed just the tip inside her, making her gasp. "And how does this feel? Your King's cock at your entrance?"
"Different," she admitted.
"Different how?"
"Powerful. Commanding. Like it owns me."
"It does own you." He pushed deeper, stretching her. "The moment you spread your legs for that human, you became mine. My property. My corrupted little slut."
He wasn't as large as Ethan, but he filled her completely. And the psychological weight of it—being taken by her King—made it more intense than anything she'd experienced.
"Please," she begged, though she didn't know what she was begging for.
"Please what?" He set a slow, torturous rhythm. "Please fuck you? Please punish you? Please make you forget that pathetic husband of yours?"
"All of it," she gasped. "All of it, Your Majesty."
His hand came down hard on her ass. "You don't call me that when I'm inside you."
Another slap.
"What do you call me?"
"I... I don't know."
"Call me what I am." He thrust harder, making her cry out. "Your owner. Your master. Your King who can do whatever he wants with you."
"Master," she sobbed. "Please, Master."
He fucked her harder, each thrust sending the desk scraping across the floor. His hand wrapped around her throat from behind, squeezing just enough to make breathing difficult.
"Come for me," he commanded. "Come for your King and prove you're mine."
The orgasm hit her like lightning, tearing through her body. She screamed, not caring who might hear, as pleasure obliterated thought.
He didn't stop. Didn't slow. Kept fucking her through it until a second orgasm built.
"Again," he demanded.
She came again, harder, her legs giving out. Only his grip kept her upright.
Finally, he pulled out. His hand in her hair dragged her to the floor, forcing her to her knees.
"Open your mouth."
She obeyed, and he finished on her face and breasts, marking her with his seed.
"Don't clean it off," he commanded. "Not yet."
She knelt there, covered in her King's cum, trembling from the intensity.
"Look at me."
She raised her eyes to his.
"Tomorrow, your husband returns. You will greet him. You will let him touch you. You will pretend everything is normal."
"Yes, Master."
"But tomorrow night, after he's asleep, you will return here. And I will show you what it truly means to serve a King."
He tucked himself away, composed and regal once more.
"You may dress and leave. Remember—don't clean yourself until you're back in your quarters."
Valeria dressed with shaking hands, his seed still wet on her skin. As she reached the door, he spoke again.
"Oh, and Valeria? You will continue servicing the human squire as well. I want you bred. I want to see you swell with child. And I will be watching to ensure you obey."
She turned, confused. "You... you want me to keep fucking Ethan?"
"Of course. He's useful for breeding. But you serve me for pleasure." His smile was cruel. "Now go. Your husband arrives tomorrow. Best get some sleep before you have to fake devotion to him."
Valeria fled, his laughter following her down the hall.
She made it to her quarters before collapsing, the reality of her situation crashing down.
She was trapped. Bound to serve two men while married to a third. Required to breed like livestock while maintaining the appearance of a dutiful wife.
And the worst part?
The dark, shameful part that made her stomach twist?
She was already wet again, thinking about tomorrow night.