Kneecap Stealer @dead-end-fanfiction - Tumblr Blog

veni, vidi, futui (Albert Wesker x f!Reader)

Tags: No Use of Y/N for Reader-Insert; AFAB Reader-Insert; Alternate Universe - Royalty; Arranged Marriage; Harems; Light Angst; Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con; Wedding Night; Soft Albert Wesker; Dominant Albert Wesker; Dacryphilia; Kissing; First Time; Loss of Virginity; Masturbation; Biting; Marking; Cunnilingus; First Time Blow Jobs; Vaginal Fingering; Missionary Position; Dirty Talk; Praise; Breeding; Creampie; Pregnancy

Word Count: 8,830

Summary: You are the new addition to Emperor Albert's famous harem. As your wedding night approaches, your mind runs ragged with worries for the future as the rumours about his cruel nature reach your ears and terrify you. What, exactly, awaits you when those doors close behind you and seal you in with a monster for an entire night?

Also on Ao3: Here

Requested (sort of) here (yes, I'm a lying liar who lies and didn't wait to write this like i said i would)

a/n: 100% think I'm hilarious with some of these titles. It's even funnier for me cause in romanian the translation sounds pretty similar but in a tense that's used in certain regions that makes it hilarious to say out loud lmfao

Wrote this in the past tense bc it felt right and period appropriate but omggg do I hate doing that. I reverted to the present tense on accident so many times and had to go back and edit 🙄 // Tried to keep a period accurate vocabulary, dont tell me if I failed. I hated having to use so many euphemisms for genitals cause im a firm believer in calling things what they are even in smut, BUTTTT I couldn't reconcile "old timey royalty au" with the word "clit" in text 😭

I really hope this doesn't suck! And I'm really sorry if this wasn't what you had in mind, Natalie :(

You had been chosen out of a lineup – a tribute from your conquered kingdom to appease your now ruler, Emperor Albert.

Your nation was a small one, but it was strategically placed between the Empire he was building and the Kingdom ruled by King Chris of the Redfield line, the Emperor's sworn enemy and bitterest rival. With barely any fighters – your people were farmers and artists, not warriors – and not many resources at your disposal, your small country had fallen fairly quickly and capitulated even quicker once the promise of forgiveness and protection was issued as long as your people laid down their arms and let the Uroboran soldiers set up camps all around the land.

As was his habit, Emperor Albert issued an order: all girls of noble blood who were of age and not yet married were to be brought before him so that he may take one of them and make her part of his ever expanding harem. This tied all of the smaller nations assimilated by the Uroboran Empire to him and wasn't as restrictive as having to choose one spouse out of all the nations, thus avoiding the risk of upsetting any one population by not choosing someone from their country. It was also an effective method of taking political prisoners that didn't upset people quite as badly as the chopping block and damp dungeons did.

You were the daughter of a minor noble in your country. Not terribly important but not insignificant either. The youngest and thus the only one who had yet to be married off, but freshly turned of age right around the time the invasion started, you had been packed up and sent to the capital where Emperor Albert was waiting to receive the candidates for his harem.

You hadn't even entertained the idea that you might be chosen. There were plenty of better girls to choose from, politically speaking, and your looks didn't make you stand out in any particular way, at least as far as you were concerned. Your parents always boasted of your beauty to any who were willing to listen, but that was what parents did so you didn't take their opinion into consideration when it came to this matter.

Yet even so, you went into it fearing for your safety. Because the Emperor was known to be inhumanly handsome, tall and strong, imposing, quick-witted and silver-tongued, but he was also known to be cruel. Stories of his exploits in battle ran amok amongst all the lands, whether pinned like insects under his iron fist or not, and they painted a gruesome picture. He was said to be a one-man army unto himself; that very few lived to tell the tale of an encounter with him on the battlefield. And that he was ruthless when fighting, sparing none and taking no prisoners, relishing in the carnage and the blood spilled – some even suggesting that he bathed in it after the fighting was done, others that he drank it as if it were water or wine.

And as if that wasn't bad enough, the rumors that abounded about his harem were even worse. Tales of forceful couplings whenever the Emperor desired it with no regard for his harem members, lasting injuries, cruel punishments, torture just for the sake of his sick amusement…

You didn't know what to believe or what to expect when you stepped foot into that throne room, all the girls lined up like cattle to be chosen for the sacrifice. All you knew was that you were terrified and you didn't want to sacrifice your happiness and health for the good of a country too weak to fight its oppressor properly. Your father did always tell you that you were too smart and too opinionated for your own good.

You almost debated sabotaging yourself on purpose just to avoid being chosen. After all, the ‘losers’ were simply sent home as if they had just taken a vacation in their country's capital for a while, no harm, no foul – what were you at risk of losing by, say, showing up badly dressed or curtsying sloppily or burping in front of the whole court?

But your pride wouldn't allow you to give such a bad showing and bring shame upon your family name, easily overlooked as it was amongst the nobility. And then, when he walked through those imposing double doors that seemed much more menacing now, surrounded by his Empire's flags and coat of arms as they were, all thoughts of impoliteness and bad etiquette fled your mind.

All you could do was stand up straight and watch him in trepidation, feeling frozen to the spot, too big yet too small at the same time, as he walked right past you in a flurry of black leather robes that seemed made of darkness itself – his battle armour, never taken off even during feasts and celebrations – before pivoting on his heel and taking all of you in with a critical eye. Eyes that were blood red and inhuman, slitted like a serpent, and which seemed to be able to pierce through any armour, through flesh and bone and sinew and get to the very marrow of a being just by looking at them.

You could hardly breathe when he looked at you. You didn't know what he saw – what he could possibly see when faced with someone so ordinary as you, so weak and unremarkable, so plain. Because standing there in front of your new Emperor, you truly did understand why so many people called him a God, blasphemous as it was. Everything about him was electric and carried this aura of otherness. His hair, sun-kissed and a perfect contrast to the darkness he surrounded himself with, was perfectly swept back with not a single strand out of place. His robes were precisely drawn about him to hug his body well enough to protect yet not too tightly so as to restrict his movements. His posture was impossibly straight and he had a sway to his hips when he walked, a certain something in his step, that made all who were present take notice of him and know that they were in the presence of greatness.

Everything about Emperor Albert screamed superiority. Magnificence. Divinity, perhaps. A terrible, cruel divinity – but were not all Gods as cruel as they were kind, in the end? As terrible as they were merciful?

Usually, this process of choosing an addition to his harem lasted days, at the very least, as far as you had heard before coming here and been informed by the Emperor's staff upon your arrival. He had high standards for his partners and wouldn't so easily procreate with just anybody – which was curious, considering he had still yet to produce an heir with any of his several wives, a fact which had sparked some rumours about impotence but which hadn't taken off quite so enthusiastically for fear of invoking the Emperor's wrath – so the choosing of a new wife was thought out and properly considered before he made his final decision. Sometimes he even spent time individually with the prospects just to get a feel for their personality and nature, if he was so inclined.

Yet something curious happened on that day when all the viable candidates your country had to offer waited with bated breath to be judged or dismissed.

The Emperor's eyes landed on you and his head tilted as he eyed you up and down curiously. He took a deep breath into his lungs, as if savouring a scent or trying to decipher it, then stepped forward. One step, two steps, three steps, four. He leaned closer to your frozen face, ruby eyes looking unflinchingly into your terrified ones, and then he pointed down to the floor.

You had no way of knowing what he wanted you to do. Of what he meant by that. He never spoke a word – not then, not afterwards, not until the day you married him officially and he spoke the vows of your people in a bored, drawling tone that sent shivers down your spine that, to this day, you couldn't tell if they were from fear or something else. So you didn't know what he wanted you to do but that didn't matter. In that moment, you didn't think. You acted. You did the first thing that made sense in the presence of a God who held the fate of so many souls in the palms of his gloved hands.

You knelt.

You dropped to your knees so fast they smacked against the marble floors of the throne room, bowing your head and laying your palms flat on your thighs as if in prayer, and you murmured just two words.

“My Lord.”

Somehow, he knew your words meant more than just a subject addressing her ruler by the wrong title. You were addressing your God, your Lord, the being in charge of your destiny and continued existence. When even you didn't know what any of it meant, he did. He always knew.

He walked away from you then and you thought that was it. He'd found you lacking, nothing more than a simpering idiot or a cowardly fool, and had moved on to better prospects. But then you heard murmurs rising up as those footsteps kept retreating farther and farther away. But then a soldier came to a stop in front of you and extended a hand towards you. But then you lifted your head and saw a blonde woman with grey eyes staring down at you impassively and offering you a helping hand so you could rise to your feet.

You did so and looked around in confusion. Where was the Emperor? What was to be done next?

Your questions were quickly answered after that by a man named William, the Emperor's advisor and closest friend, if it could be believed that a man such as Emperor Albert could ever have something as ordinary as friends. You had been chosen. The process was done, the rest of the prospects would be sent home if their families weren't on the list of guests for the upcoming wedding, and you were to be given a room in the palace and be attended to by the Royal Household while being prepared for your nuptials.

Your family was to be notified as soon as possible, both officially by the Emperor's staff as well as informally by your own hand.

For days, you lived in a sort of limbo. You couldn't quite believe it. You? A member of the Emperor's harem? Why? You had made a fool of yourself, kneeling like that and bowing your head in prayer like an idiot! He was no God, no matter what people said. He was a man like any other, who could bleed and die just like any other.

But... was he? Was he really?

You never interacted with your betrothed again until your wedding day. He was a busy man, preoccupied with state affairs and securing his hold over his new lands; he had no time for wedding preparations or getting to know his future wife. But you saw him from a distance often. Across the massive ballrooms and hallways of the palace, talking to various advisors and staff members, sometimes looking bored, others barking orders with a vicious, angry snarl on his face that brought terror to your heart as you imagined being on the receiving end of it.

Sometimes you watched him from your balcony while he trained in the courtyard. He had such a grace about him that reminded you of that holy experience in the throne room, making you remember exactly how you'd felt in that moment, what feelings had led you to kneel in front of him without a first thought, let alone a second. He rarely trained with other people but even alone he was magnificent. Awesome. Almighty.

Such power, however, terrified you. What were you to do now? How could you ever escape this terrible monster in front of whom country after country, kingdom after kingdom kept falling like they were nothing more than domino pieces standing between him and total conquest? You shuddered to think of your wedding night or of all the nights that might follow. Would you be nothing more than a bruised, used vessel for his seed? Is that what you would be reduced to in a few short weeks?

You didn't have anyone there to assuage your fears either. The Emperor's advisors were busy and didn't bother interacting with you for more than to ask colour preferences for tablecloths and if you had any allergies to certain flowers. William was constantly running around doing the Emperor's bidding when he wasn't plastered to his side. And Jill, the soldier who had helped you to your feet that fateful day, was a loyal guard to you, escorting you everywhere you went and keeping a careful eye on you at all times, but not much of a talker. You'd only just barely gotten her name out of her and that had taken days of pestering.

The harem wasn't here, so you couldn't ask any of your future sisters-in-arms what to expect, how to behave, what to do and not to do to minimise the pain. The Emperor didn't cart his harem around when he was constantly on the move, going from war camp to war camp around the region as he met with allies and conquered new lands. Not only was it cumbersome, but it would be foolish as well – anyone could just snatch a member of his harem and do what they pleased with her as revenge on the Emperor, be it rape, torture, murder, or simple kidnapping for leverage or ransom.

It made sense, of course, but you lamented the women's absence. If only you could ask just one person what would befall you come your wedding day!

Yet, in spite of all your fears and worries, the day came just as it was always bound to do. Your father gave you away with tears in his eyes and silent apologies on his lips while your mother watched from the sidelines, stoic and stone-like so as to not break down in front of half the Royal Court in the face of her youngest daughter being given away like a pig for slaughter.

And there, waiting for you, was your handsome, terrible groom. Wheat haired, crimson eyed, and tall and imposing like a tower rising up above the sea to loom over all, Emperor Albert took your hands in his and recited the vows of your culture while you were bound together in holy matrimony. And when it came to drawing up your veil to reveal your visage to his gaze, he did so slowly, almost reverently, as if unwrapping something precious like a present, and your breath caught in both terror and attraction as your naked eyes beheld him as your husband for the first time in your life. Because he was terrifying, yes, but he was so beautiful, so handsome, it made your knees buckle.

When his soft lips touched yours in a kiss to seal your union, everything else faded away until only his touch and his scent lingered in your senses, nothing more.

He pulled away much sooner than you would have liked, but as he did, the spell was broken and reality rushed back in to the sound of thunderous applause and joyous cheers that felt more like jeers in your ears in that moment.

The sacrifice had been accepted. Rejoice all who have survived.

You remained silent at your husband's side the entire evening. You danced with him as was appropriate, dined at his left as was expected, and smiled, tight-lipped and proper, whenever someone walked up to you to issue congratulations or present a wedding gift for the newest Royal couple.

But while people ate and drank and revelled, you worried. The Emperor's body so close to yours was like an unattended flame licking up and down your side, scorching you and slowly cooking you alive. Would it hurt much? Could you, perhaps, lose yourself in his touch the way you'd lost yourself in that kiss and make it happen without even realising it did? Or would he want you present and feeling every agonising second of his torture?

Perhaps that was the real reason he took a wife from each country he conquered – to take his frustrations out on them for all their country's infractions. It was a terrifying thought that wouldn't escape you no matter how hard you tried to banish it.

And so you passed the evening in this manner – worrying yourself into a panic while trying not to let it show, and dreading what was to come. But regardless of your fears, you did not let anything slip as you bid your parents goodbye, hugging them tightly and promising to do your best to see them again (they would be leaving early in the morning, before you woke up). Nobody was coming to save you and there was no reason to worry your poor parents. Perhaps this would be the last time they ever saw you alive and so you wanted them to remember you like this: a beautiful young woman, smiling at them happily on her wedding day; not a terrified girl preparing for her execution.

You walked the corridors leading to your marital chamber in silence, Jill ever faithful at your side. You were thankful your husband's side hadn't insisted on the tradition of observing your first coupling, as was the norm in a lot of other neighbouring countries – if you were to be weeping tonight, you would prefer the privacy of only being witnessed by your husband.

You were also glad he had sent you ahead while he wrapped things up and said goodbye to the guests, who would be continuing the revelries long after the two of you left the party.

“Will I see you in the morning, Jill?” you asked when the two of you stopped in front of the heavy doors leading towards what you felt was to be your coffin tonight.

She looked at you strangely, as if you'd asked something out of the ordinary, before nodding resolutely. You smiled. Well, at least as far as Jill was concerned, there would be a morning for you – how bad could it be if the prospect of you not living to see the dawn was foreign?

“Then I shall see you then. Have a good night, my friend.”

You offered her a sad smile, full of trepidation, then walked into the room.

The interior was bland and impersonal, as was to be expected from a room whose only purpose was for the Emperor to consummate his marriage in. You looked around nevertheless, trying to spot any torture tools or get a hint of what you could expect, but nothing jumped to attention and so you were left sighing as you took a seat on the edge of the bed and settled in to wait. Perhaps he wouldn't even need a tool – a man such as him could surely break you in ways you hadn't even thought possible just with his bare hands.

Tears welled up in your eyes at the thought. You hugged yourself tightly around the middle and sniffled, trying to stop the onslaught but unable to put a lid on it once the dam broke. You'd been holding everything in for a long time, been pretending everything was fine and you could handle this bravely. But suddenly all you wanted was to flee through that door and find your parents, sink into your mother's embrace and beg her to not do this to you, to not let them ruin her daughter, to take you back with them and start a war if need be – just not let you go.

Before you knew it, you were crying properly, sobs and pathetic sniffles escaping you, the sounds of your own misery so loud that you almost missed the opening of the door behind you. Almost.

You whipped your head around, eyes red rimmed and face most likely a mess, and stared wide eyed as your husband swept into the room and shut the doors behind him before turning to face you with an expression you could not decipher even if you hadn't been despairing on the inside.

“I– I'm sorry, My Lord!” you hastened to apologise, rising from your seat and curtsying as was proper (and resisting the urge to kneel again, if only so the punishment for your transgressions would be lighter). “I–”

But you didn't know what to say next nor were you given the opportunity to find out. Your husband lifted a hand to stop you with a frown and he took a step closer to you, then another, until you were face to face in front of the marital bed – well, face to chest rather, as you had to crane your neck to look up at his impossibly tall person.

Your breath caught in your throat as you stared up at him and you remained immobile, a scared mouse in the underbrush while the vicious snake rose up in preparation to strike, while the Emperor's hand rose to cup your cheek and gather your tears on his fingers. You watched, transfixed, as he then brought those fingers to his mouth and tasted your tears.

Your mouth went dry at the sight. And, humiliatingly enough, your core throbbed as well. Getting aroused at the sight of your husband swiping his tongue over his gloved fingers covered in your tears was such an inappropriate reaction and you wondered what was wrong with you.

He hummed at the taste as he let his hand fall to rest at his side.

“I was expecting to taste your tears when the ecstasy of my cock brought them to your eyes, but this will do as well, I suppose.”

Your eyes widened at the crass remark but your cheeks warmed as violently as your stomach lurched with perverted interest at his words. You gasped near silently but your husband still heard you, if the small smirk that graced his features was any indication.

“Are these tears of joy, my dear? Are you so filled with happiness at being chosen that you could not contain it any longer?”

You felt mocked, which wasn't helped by the arrogant look in your husband's eyes when he looked down at you, but you couldn't muster more than a tiny shake of your head in response to his question.

“Then is it… sadness? Homesick already?”

“No, My Lord,” you managed to answer verbally this time, gulping when he started circling you then, like a hungry wolf eyeing his prey and gauging how many strikes it would take to immobilise it before the feast could begin.

“Then– oh! Fear, is it? First time jitters? I promise it doesn't hurt that bad, that's just an old wives tale. I promise I'll be gentle,” he reassured from behind you, his voice low and dark in your ear as his breath fanned across your nape and made you shiver, “at least at first.”

Your heart jackrabbitted in your chest then, tears springing to your eyes again as he all but confirmed that he would hurt you, his quietly amused tone telling you just how much enjoyment he would take out of it. Still, you shook your head and forced your trembling voice to answer, fearing how much worse your punishment would be if you didn't indulge him. Surely, he already knew what was bothering you and was just taking delight in drawing your pain out.

“No, My Lord. I… I heard… But it doesn't matter. I will take whatever you will give me, as is my duty as your wife.”

You couldn't look him in the eye when you felt him circling right back around to face you and the silence that descended felt oppressive, but you bore it with as much dignity as you could, refusing to let your tears spill again, at least not before the pain actually happened.

The hand on your chin was unexpected and it made you choke on your breath momentarily, but its gentleness was even more of a surprise. Gloved fingers, long and elegant and hiding the power to rip a man's heart out of his chest if the rumours were true, gently grasped your chin and lifted your head so you could meet your husband's gaze once more. You let yourself be led, quietly fearing what you would find when your eyes met his, and ended up gasping anew when soft lips you'd tasted once already landed on your own and pulled you into a sensual dance that made your head spin and your stomach swoop.

You grasped at your husband without realising it, needing an anchor as he swept you away with his expert mouth, and your hand found his armoured forearm as you clung to it for dear life during the entirety of your kiss. When he released you after long minutes of shared intimacy, you were breathless and dazed as you looked up at him with tingling lips and a racing heart – this time for an entirely different reason.

“You, my dear, will take exactly what I give you, yes. But don't fret about silly rumours and embellishments. I am a generous lover and I do not enjoy needless force for the sake of it inside the bedroom. Let me guess – you heard that I will hurt you? Maim you? Force you and revel in your screams?”

You wanted to avert your gaze the further he went along, as he laid out all your fears like it was nothing, but the hand on your chin was holding you in place still and so you couldn't do more than nod shallowly in his grip.

“Yes, My Lord,” you answered quietly, ashamed to admit it yet even more afraid that the rumours were true.

Your husband snorted in reply and shook his head, sliding his palm up your face so he could cup your cheek and stroke the skin under your eye so very tenderly.

“I don't need to force you. A single kiss from me during the ceremony was enough to make you want to jump me in front of everyone, was it not, my dear?” he questioned rhetorically and rather smugly. You flushed in embarrassment at the apt observation but nodded obediently when the Emperor gave you an expectant look. “And just now, when I tasted your misery – you liked that. You got wet, I could smell it. Do you deny it?”

“N-no, My Lord,” you stammered, feeling like you could catch fire with how heated your skin felt at him calling you out so bluntly.

“Then what do you have to fear? The only screams I enjoy in the bedroom are ones of pleasure, dear heart.”

“I… I don't know… We never spoke and I didn't know what to expect… I had no one to talk to, to prepare me or…”

“You poor thing,” your husband tutted condescendingly, but his touch was gentle still as he wrapped an arm around your waist and drew you into him, pulling you to his chest and tilting your head even further back so he could keep looking into your eyes. “You have nothing to fear from me, my dear. I take very good care of what's mine and you – well, I think you might just be something very special indeed.”

“Me, My Lord?” you questioned incredulously. You and special had no business being in the same sentence together, it just wasn't possible.

“Yes, you. Do you know why I chose you, out of all the others, without even bothering to assess them all?”

You shook your head, feeling breathless when the hand on your waist traveled to the small of your back and dipped downwards, cupping a handful of your buttocks and squeezing tightly.

“Because you smelled divine and looked so scared and innocent standing there without breaking eye contact, like a little mouse staring down the jaws of a predator,” the Emperor explained, bending down to trail kisses down your neck while his hand kept groping you and making you gasp. “And then you knelt for me. Without hesitation. Without a word of command from me. And you looked so very sinful avoiding looking up at me like I was the God you were praying to, kneeling in supplication like a good, devout little worshipper. Do you know how hard I have to beat people into submission to accept me as their ruler? How much harder it is to make them see that I am no ordinary man?”

You shook your head or at least tried to, letting out an involuntary moan when your husband's other hand let go of your face to cup your breast through your dress instead, fondling the flesh in tandem with your ass while his mouth kept lighting up small fires on your skin as he went along, pulling down the shoulders of your dress with his teeth so he could lave at your collarbones and suck proprietary marks into the skin.

“And you did it without thinking,” he continued, gripping the front of your dress with both hands and tearing it down the middle, revealing your chemise but for a moment before he tore through that as well. “Right there, in front of everybody. I got so hard watching you all I wanted was to bend you over the throne and take you in front of the entire Court.”

You gasped, moaning softly when your husband grabbed your breasts in both hands and squeezed hard before leaning down and taking one nipple into his mouth so he could roll it around and suck on it greedily.

“I knew I had to have you. None could compete, not in front of such beautiful, exquisite submission such as yours, my dear. So you see? You have nothing to fear from me, darling.”

You blinked up at him when he let go of your breasts so he could cup your face in both hands instead. You felt dazed, swept away by the tide of his desire, of his words, of his touches, and you didn't know if you would sink and drown or rise up to the surface to draw breath again, but you knew that you wanted more of this. More of him.

“Yes, My Lord,” you murmured, not knowing what else to say. Your heart was in your throat from the anticipation, eager this time as opposed to frightened, and your core felt like it was on fire – no one had ever made you feel like this before in all the years you'd been alive.

“Remove your clothes and lie down for me,” he ordered then, stepping away from you and giving you back your space.

Yet even with him gone from your immediate presence, his eyes lingered on your disheveled body and the weight of his focus was like a real thing pressing down on your shoulders.

You disrobed slowly, pulling the tattered remains of your clothes down your legs without looking at him to gauge his reaction at your nakedness, too flustered and self-conscious to not worry that you might find disappointment in his gaze once you were laid entirely bare for him. Once you were naked as the day you were born, you climbed on top of the marital bed, sinking your fingers into the plush, expensive material under you for just a moment while you calmed your nerves down, then turned around and lied down as instructed.

When you looked back at your husband, you found him watching you with rapt attention, his blazing eyes filled with so much desire and covetousness that it made you squirm in place in the face of such unrestrained hunger being aimed at you. You had the urge to cover up, to hide your breasts and cunt from his appraising eyes, but you knew without being told that the gesture would displease him. You were his wife, were you not? He had a right to behold you in all your sexual glory.

“Excellent. Lie back on the pillows and open your legs for me. I want to see you while I undress.”

You did as you were told even though your movements were shy and reluctant. You felt exposed and judged, examined down to the smallest flaw, while the Emperor started taking his armour off one piece at a time, the movements methodical and deliberate while his eyes never strayed from your naked body. Something in the way he looked at you or perhaps in the unintentional show he was putting on for your eyes as he revealed himself to you bit by bit made the wetness in your pussy increase exponentially and you bit your lip as arousal coursed through you, resisting the urge to close your thighs to relieve the pressure.

Your husband's eyes were glittering in the dark room lit only by the fire crackling merrily in the fireplace as he looked at you and saw the effect he had on you.

“Touch yourself,” he ordered, still busy taking off his armour. “Pleasure yourself while gazing upon your God.”

Biting your lip even harder, you did as you were told once more. Your touch was hesitant, clumsy what with you being unused to pleasuring yourself even though your older sisters had encouraged you to try it on several occasions while you waited for your parents to marry you off. You didn't really know what you were doing, but when your fumbling fingers petted over that bundle you had explored curiously once or twice before beneath the covers, your nerves lit up with pleasure and you moaned in surprise at the feeling.

“Eyes on me, dear,” your husband commanded and you opened them slowly, circling that wonderful pleasure button all the while, and your mouth dropped open on a breathless sigh when you were greeted with the sight of his naked torso, white, porcelain skin on full display. His muscles flexed while he discarded his padding and started taking off his pants, making your mouth water with the urge to lick over every inch of skin and bite down on the plushness padding his chest and biceps, but when he finally removed the last piece of clothing and straightened up under your half-lidded gaze, you almost stopped completely, forgetting how to breathe entirely.

Emperor Albert was the single most attractive man you'd ever had the pleasure to lay eyes on. That was a fact. But as he stood there, naked and looking somehow even more powerful and imposing without his battle armour, he was utterly breathtaking. Your heart pitter-pattered in your chest when your gaze flicked down to his manhood and saw its impressive size and girth, worrying for a moment how that could possibly fit inside of you, but most of your thoughts fled your mind when he climbed on top of the covers and started crawling towards you, a panther approaching its prey.

He began by kissing your calves, your knees, your thighs, before he parted your legs properly and bared you in all your glory for his assessing gaze to take in. You couldn't take your eyes off him even if you tried. Most people would have felt powerful with an Emperor, a self proclaimed God, lying between their legs while they gazed down on him from above. But not you. You felt like an offering, all spread out and waiting to be devoured while the wild, dangerous animal below you got ready to strike.

He kissed your inner thighs then, biting into the skin and rolling it between his teeth before sucking down on it to make it bloom with colour. You moaned as your eyes fluttered shut for a moment but you forced them open without needing to be told, remembering your previous instructions very well.

When his mouth closed over your cunt and he started kissing it, sucking on the hard nub you'd been touching before, flicking his tongue over it in dizzying strokes, at speeds you didn't think could be achieved by a human tongue, it didn't take you long to lose yourself in the pleasure being gifted to you. Your husband took your hands and placed them on his head, encouraging you to sink your fingers in his hair and tug, and you were helpless to do anything other than obey.

“Oh, that feels so good, My Lord,” you moaned, eyes flying open wide to stare at the ceiling for just a moment when your husband's tongue dipped down to your opening and started exploring the untouched territory. You felt like an overflowing mountain spring, gushing everywhere while your Emperor drank every drop that left your fluttering pussy.

His response was to redouble his efforts and attack your cunt even more viciously, making your breath hitch on every other inhale and hold on to his blonde strands like they were the only thing standing between you and unadulterated loss of the self.

You didn't know what that building pressure in your lower half meant, only that you needed to chase it to its completion, that to let it slip through your fingers would be an agony almost akin to death. When your husband flicked his tongue just right, pressing it flat down on your pearl with a deliberate motion, your mouth dropped open on a drawn out whine you couldn't recognise as having originated from you as pleasure the likes of which you'd never felt before exploded in you and made your vision go white for just a moment.

The man – the God – seated between your legs kept caressing your thighs and sides in a soothing pattern while you desperately tried to get your bearings and return to reality.

“There you go,” he quietly praised, sounding pleased with your performance. When you let your head fall back against the pillows and looked down at him, he had a satisfied expression on his face and a small smirk adorning his lips that were slick with your wetness and whatever had gushed out of you upon that wonderful explosion of pleasure. “Still terrified of what I'll do to you?”

You shook your head with a small, breathless chuckle. “No, My Lord.”

“Good,” he said, kissing your hip in a gesture that was so affectionate it made your heart skip a beat, before he climbed up your body slowly, touching and caressing your heated skin as he went, before he captured your lips in a kiss once more.

A slightly salty, acidic taste exploded on your taste buds when your husband invaded your mouth with his own and it took you a second to figure out that you were tasting yourself on his tongue. A surprised moan spilled out of you at the realisation which made him laugh into your mouth as he pulled away to look down at you with dancing eyes and a grinning mouth. He looked gorgeous.

“Little virgin girl discovering the wonders of sex,” he teased, nipping at your bottom lip and making you flush from embarrassment. You couldn't help being inexperienced! He had how many wives already? He was your first and only husband, it made sense to not know these things! “Worry not for I will teach you. Thoroughly.”

That declaration had your stomach swooping with arousal again and he gave you a knowing look before he pulled away from you. He seated himself next to you, lounging back on the mountain of pillows at his back, then gestured for you to come to him. You rolled over and approached on all fours immediately.

“I want you to suck my cock now, darling.”

You swallowed, eyes straying to the length you had been ignoring successfully until now, but you didn't want to say no, no matter how intimidating a sight it was. Lots of wives did this for their husbands, right? You could do it too. Nodding and trying to hide your trepidation as much as possible, you settled between your husband's parted legs just like he had done before, and gingerly took his cock into your hand.

It looked huge as you tried to wrap your hand around it fully, your fingers unable to touch around the impressive girth, and you thought about what to do now as you stared at it in lost confusion.

“Like this,” Emperor Albert instructed, enveloping your hand with his much bigger one and demonstrating a stroke up and down his shaft before letting go. “Use your mouth and take in as much as you can. The rest you can stroke with your hand.”

“Yes, My Lord,” you agreed readily then did as he instructed. You licked the tip hesitantly, testing the waters and finding that they were much tamer than you had anticipated. The liquid pearling at the tip was salty and a tad bitter but not unpleasant, and beneath that, his cock just tasted like skin. Warm, velvety skin that you couldn't get enough of as you started swirling your tongue around the head in a pattern that felt right, which proved to be correct when your husband buried his hand in your hair and hummed in approval to get you to keep going.

You sucked on the tip and teased the underside of his cock with your tongue, then licked up and down the shaft to get it wet and to ease your way when using your hand. And then, when it was pretty much drenched in your saliva, you started sucking as much of it as you could, stopping when you felt like your entire body was rebelling against the intrusion and using your palm to stroke the remaining length beneath your lips.

Every gasp or moan or groan you pulled from your husband lit you up from the inside and made your chest almost explode with the pride you felt. To bring him the kind of pleasure he had brought you only minutes prior was an honour, a duty you took very seriously. Even though your efforts were clumsy, they seemed to be well received, and it brought you hope that your marriage might not be as much of a disaster as you'd initially feared.

“Good girl,” he praised when you pulled away briefly to catch your breath, spit and precum clinging to your lips and the head of his cock from where it lay in your grasp. “That's enough for now. Come here.”

You crawled up his body eagerly, relishing the tight grip he had on your hips as soon as they were within reach, and sank into his body without issue when he pulled you into another messy kiss, this time being the one being tasted instead.

Your husband flipped you over with surprising strength and speed once he released your lips once more, but you didn't have time to dwell on it before he was parting your legs again and prodding your entrance with his fingers. He sank a digit into your channel then, making you moan and try to clamp your thighs down on instinct, but he had a proper hold on you already, likely anticipating your reaction, and he kept your legs open while he started thrusting that finger in and out of you.

This new activity confused you, as you had expected him to deflower you now after all the kissing and sucking that had happened, but whatever he was doing to you felt too good to question it much. He did this for a while, adding one more finger, then another, and stretching your opening in a way you feared would tear you apart. But when you voiced your concern, your husband only chuckled and assured you that his cock would be much bigger than a few fingers.

The words did not reassure you in the slightest.

Finally, at long last, after you turned into a panting, moaning mess as your husband fucked you open on his fingers without giving you the release your body craved, he pulled out of you for good and settled between your legs. You looked down at your lower half, where his cock was resting on top of your mound and weeping continuously that salty, bitter liquid you could still taste traces of on your tongue, and bit your lip.

Your husband cupped your face to lift your gaze to his own crimson one before he spoke.

“It will hurt but only for a moment. Afterwards, I'll drive you so insane with pleasure you won't even remember the pain.”

He captured your lips in a kiss before you could say anything in response and it was almost enough to distract you from the unrelenting pressure of the blunt head of his cock pushing inside your tight channel. You whined against his lips, squirming at the discomfort and wishing you could get away, but the Emperor's hold on you was absolute and he kept pushing no matter how much you whined. Then, something seemed to snap inside of you, making you yelp and clutch tightly to your husband's shoulders, before he pushed all the way in, much more smoothly this time around, and sheathing himself entirely inside of you.

You took deep breaths at his urging, feeling so full it was a wonder you had ever felt complete before, and bit by bit the pain faded away and left in its wake a burning need for him to move. You didn't need to tell him for he already seemed to know when you went from frightened and in pain to ready for his cock, and oh. When he pulled out of you, dragging that thick length against your walls just far enough to then shove it back in, again and again and again, you thought you might just die right then and there. Surely you wouldn't survive to see the morning after all.

“That's it, dear heart. Look how well you take it. I knew you would be a slut for my cock,” your husband praised filthily in your ear, biting down on your neck and shoulder while he drove his cock into your pussy relentlessly, making your tits bounce on every thrust and your voice break on every other moan as you clung to his broad back and took it all.

“It feels so good, My Lord,” you cried, screaming when he changed the angle of his hips and started hammering into you at a higher speed, with more force than before. How had you gone your entire life without this? How had you survived?

“It'll feel even better once you come on my cock.” His hand snuck down between your bodies, finding that sensitive nub yet again and pressing down on it in precise circles and flicks, all the while he kept pounding into you like he was trying to reach your organs. “Milk me, sweet girl, come on. You want my seed, don't you? You want to be the one to give me an heir, to carry my babies and stand at my side, right? Then come for me and show me how much you want it.”

Those words made you clamp down on your husband's cock and squeeze before you even realised what was happening to you. You had never dreamt of being in this position, of being chosen by the Emperor who conquered your land and subjugated your people to be part of his ever expanding harem, of being spread out on his bed with your legs wide open to welcome him into your body and into your womb. But suddenly, all you wanted was to make his words a reality. You wanted to be the one to give him what he wanted, to be the one with the privilege of carrying and raising his children, the heirs of a terrifying, impressive Empire, the children of a God.

“Please, My Lord,” you moaned, clinging to him and wrapping your legs around his waist as tightly as you could while he fucked you into the mattress ceacessly and drove you insane with that insistent thumb on your bud. “Put a baby in my womb, let me be the one who carries a God's children!”

Your husband groaned, messy hair hanging in his flushed face while those flashing eyes looked down at you almost ravenously, and when he bit down on the junction between your neck and shoulder with a particularly hard thrust into your cunt, you let your eyes roll back into your skull and seized under him as pleasure overtook you once more and made you see stars exploding behind your eyelids.

“Good fucking girl,” he snarled as his teeth detached from your neck, lapping at the blood you could feel welling up in the wake of his bite, before he grasped your legs by the thighs and nearly bent you in half as he lost himself in the pleasure of your spasming, weeping pussy for long moments before he drove himself into your channel as far as he would go and spilled his seed into your womb with a drawn out groan and muttered cursing under his breath.

You lay there, spent and exhausted but full of satisfaction, while he filled you to the brim with his essence, and you felt like your very skin was glowing with pride when he pulled out and praised you for a job well done as he collapsed on the bedding next to you. You could feel his semen dripping out of you while you tried to catch your breath and had the irrational urge to pick it up with your fingers and shove it back inside.

Something of your thoughts must have shown on your face because your husband rolled you over until you were pressed up against his side, your chin propped on his pec so you could look up at him properly, and he gave you a cocky smile.

“I'm not done with you, my little worshipper. You will be filled many more times by the time I'm satisfied. And if it doesn't take this time, it will the next. As many times as it takes for you to start growing me an heir.”

“Yes, please,” you murmured, exhausted and sleepy but so eager to fulfill your role as the Emperor's newest wife, and went so easily into his arms when he pulled you up until you were straddling him, kissing you like he was trying to devour you and spreading your cheeks with his hands so he could feel his mess dribble out of your used hole onto his belly.

By the time the sun rose and a new dawn arrived, you had been thoroughly educated on all manners of sex, at least the really important bits all beginners should know about. You lost count of how many times your husband had made you come, let alone how many times he had filled you with his seed. And you did scream a lot that night, that was true. But you never once prayed for anyone to come save you while your throat went raw from your endless pleas and wails – you only prayed that your torture never stopped.

Weeks later, while you were travelling with your husband and his army towards his seat of power where the rest of the harem awaited, William, who doubled as his Majesty's court physician as well, declared you pregnant with the Emperor's first child after he concluded his examination in the wake of your sudden sickness and unexplainable bad disposition. You cried happily at the news and shrieked with joy when Albert – as he had given you leave to call him when it was just the two of you – spun you around in his arms and kissed you deeply, telling you how proud he was of you and that he had known you were the one who was truly worthy of giving him an heir from that first moment your eyes met in the throne room, he – a terrifying ruler, you – a scared and naive girl in way over her head.

Although everything you knew was over, ripped away from you between one blink and the next, you didn't feel much remorse now for leaving everything behind and enjoying your place at your Emperor's side as his most favoured wife and soon to be mother of his children. You were happy like this – happy to be favoured and pampered, happy to open your legs for your God, and happy to give him something he had been putting off for years simply because none of his choices truly satisfied him.

Well, you satisfied him just fine now. And you knew that as long as you were at his side, everything would be alright. Nothing could stand in his way, after all, and who knew that better than yourself?

Trending Blogs

Recently Viewed Blogs

Kneecap Stealer