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The Overthrow free porn video
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THE OVERTHROW
By Wyrdey
Zaadon the Great sat on his throne, smiling thinly to himself as he
pretended to read one of his books of the Dark Lore.
He always enjoyed days like this, it was why he'd made himself a king.
Around him in his luxurious throne room, his advisers sat, laughing and
amusing themselves in their normal, depraved fashions.
Zaadon despised them to a man. He had never been able to stomach
toadying buffoons, but he needed them as an example of the great
benefits of being in his favour.
The poor of his kingdom - and there were many, he had seen to that -
would do anything to become like them. Pleasing him was the only chance
that they would ever have of any wealth - he had seen to that, too.
That was how he maintained his incredible network of spies; traitors
everywhere who would always keep him informed of every secret
development.
He smiled again.
Zaadon pretended to be surprised when he heard the first sounds of
violence, of shouting and fighting.
He even managed to look vaguely stunned when that rabble came rushing
into the room, swords flashing and voices raised in a battle cry.
"What is the meaning of this!?!" he demanded, trying unsuccessfully to
keep the gloating from his voice.
A tall bearded wall of a man stepped forward.
Zaadon smirked as he looked down at the general of his army. "Herras?"
he said, "Explain yourself!"
"No, it is you who will explain yourself!" the mighty man roared, eyes
blazing. "For years I have been loyal to you! Through all of your bloody
wars of conquest, through all of your killings of convenience, I
remained loyal. But now I can follow you no longer!"
A great cheer went up from the armed crowd filling the room.
"Oh?" Zaadon asked innocently, leaning back casually in his throne. "And
what is this that is more important than your oath of loyalty?"
Herras reddened. "You are a tyrant, Zaadon! You have conquered sovereign
kingdom after kingdom - and for what? Your people suffer in poverty and
toil their lives away in the mud. You have made slaves of your own
people!"
The enraged cheer went up again at his words.
Herras lifted a great hairy arm for silence, glaring at the softly
grinning Zaadon with hate-filled eyes. "And now we have come to take
back what is ours."
"You wish to be king?" Zaadon asked.
A great cry rose up from the assembled army.
Zaadon's advisors stared at him in frozen horror.
"Well," Zaadon said, trying to keep a straight face. "If these men truly
wish you to be king then you shall be."
He rose from his throne and lifted the crown from his head. "Come and
claim your throne, King Herras!"
Herras looked into Zaadon's eyes suspiciously. He knew that it could not
be this easy - Zaadon was trying to trick them somehow.
"Well?" Zaadon called mockingly, "Do you want to be king, or not?"
Knowing that he could not back down in front of his men, Herras stepped
onto the raised platform where the throne sat overlooking the room.
Never taking his eyes from the grinning Zaadon, General Herras walked
over to it.
He was surprised by the weight as the crown was casually placed atop his
head. Zaadon stepped back towards the crowd. "Your Majesty", he called
as he bowed low.
"Your Majesty, King Herras!" the crowd cheered.
Herras looked at the apparently cowed Zaadon curiously. It wasn't like
him to give up so easily - perhaps he was banking on the new king's
mercy if he capitulated gracefully.
But Herras had other things that he had to think about. He crowd was now
silent and staring at him expectantly. He knew that he should say
something.
Suddenly feeling self-conscious, he tried to think of a stirring speech
that he could give.
"Well," he finally began. "I would like to pledge that I will be
more..."
His words trailed off into a squeak.
Herras tried to clear his throat, rubbing vaguely at his suddenly
itching chin.
A strange stir spread through the crowd, Herras noticed his men's
expressions change from exultation to confusion.
He was wondering why when he noticed that his beard seemed to be
thinning. He put both hands to his face just in time to feel the last
hairs pulling back into his suddenly smooth chin.
Looking up in bewilderment, his eyes met Zaadon's. They were blazing
with triumph.
"It is interesting that you said that I make my people into slaves..."
Zaadon began, a look of evil glee spreading across his face.
Herras squeaked and piped vainly as he felt himself growing smaller, his
vast muscles softening and melting away.
"Because you see," Zaadon continued. "When I first came to power, I put
a little curse on anyone who would try to take my rule away from me."
Herras looked up at him, a stunned look in his suddenly big eyes.
"Gentlemen," Zaadon cackled, turning to the mob. "Behold your king!"
He lifted a hand and Herras felt his clothes instantly torn away. He
gaped down at himself, taking in his now hairless, gawky little body.
He looked like a boy of fifteen.
As he gaped back up at the crowd, he saw their eyes bulging as they all
stared fixedly at one point.
He suddenly felt the tingling in his crotch and knew what had caught
their attention.
Whimpering with concern, he stared down at the now hairless area between
his legs and saw his manhood dwindling before his eyes.
He squeaked and grabbed at it, feeling the skin softening and tightening
as it shrank down to a nub.
A deep chuckle started.
Herras looked up to see Zaadon laughing down at him. As if a signal had
been given, his advisors started snickering along, getting louder and
louder.
Herras sniveled as he pulled vainly at his vanishing little stub,
already comically small.
Despite his best efforts, the flabby little bump eventually slipped from
his fingers and melted back into his body. He gave a little gasp as he
felt his flesh shifting and opening and becoming something new.
The raucous laughter increased and King Herras's men stared down in
horror and disbelief.
He slipped a delicate little hand down between his silky thighs and
gaped as his long fingernails brushed up against the lips of the
familiar thing now nestled there.
He looked up, dumbfounded, and was glancing around pleadingly when...
He almost bent over double as he felt his buttocks bulging out. He cooed
through full lips as his hips widened and waist narrowed sexily.
He was murmuring with concern, unable to see the progressive softening
of his face as he felt a sudden pressure building in his chest. It soon
became intolerable, he screwed his little face up and forced the palms
of his hands to his bosom, trying to relieve the pain.
He felt like he was being crushed.
Then he gave a quick little squeal of relief and ridiculously huge
breasts, the size and shape of watermelons, exploded from his chest,
knocking his little hands aside.
Herras gasped at the sensation as his immense new knockers bounced about
freely before him.
The laughter grew even louder as he stood, forcing them far out in front
of him for all to see as he stared down dumbly at them.
In shock, he vaguely felt his hair sliding down his back and brushing
against the top of his immense buttocks. The crown slipped down over his
delicate head, falling at angle just above his big, bewildered eyes.
He cooed in surprise as he gazed blankly at all of the faces staring
back at him.
"You make quite a king", Zaadon sneered down at the tiny girl standing
before him.
She looked up at him in shock, her pretty little face whorishly made up.
She couldn't have been more than sixteen, though her incredible,
jiggling body attested that she had already reached the full bloom of
womanhood.
"But wait!" Zaadon cried in mock confusion. "Where are your kingly
vestments?"
Herass looked down at herself and then quickly back up to her men. They
were staring at her with a look of horror and... something else.
She watched as one, very red in the face, let his gaze slip down to her
freely swinging chest, joining the gawking of many others.
She suddenly noticed the increasing bulge down the front of every pair
of pants.
With a girlish shriek, she grabbed at her crotch and tried to press a
concealing hand into the mountains of creamy, yielding flesh bouncing
before her.
"Stop that" Zaadon commanded her with a smirk.
Without her volition, her hands obediently flew to her sides.
"Appropriate clothes will be provided for our new king" Zaadon said.
Suddenly, tiny jeweled buttons appeared on Herras's nipples, barely
covering them and leaving her big, red areole in plain sight. She let
out a little gasp as she felt her nipples swelling against the cold
metal pressed around them.
Under her crown, she felt her long hair being pulled back and styled as
ornaments appeared in it. A cold, golden band suddenly slid around her
chest, just below her bosoms. It didn't conceal them at all, but rather
raised them and supported them and somehow made her mouthwatering assets
look even more prominent than they already were. A tiny girdle raced
around her hips, leaving her swollen buttocks completely bare. Herras
felt a wisp of silk brush against her womanhood as it spilled down from
the girdle, slipping down her sensitive thighs and hanging between her
legs.
Big heavy earrings dangled from her ears and delicate jewelry appeared
on her long, bare arms and legs.
The laughter increased and the shocked glances grew as Herass now stood
before them dressed as a slavegirl.
She looked up at Zaadon, now well over a head taller than her, with her
eyes big as if she wanted to plead with him.
But he just sneered down at her and clapped his hands - "Dance, slave"
Herras couldn't help but lift her hands above her head and begin to sway
her big hips sensually. She danced like an expert, showing great
enthusiasm for her erotic maneuvers - only the most shameless and brazen
of dancing girls could do the things that she did so effortlessly with
her bulging body. She stood there, oblivious to the hilarity of Zaadon
and his cronies, just staring down and cooing in horror as she spun her
immense hooters around in circles for her audience's enjoyment.
The big crown looked completely out of place on the gaping little
strumpet's head as she wiggled and jiggled herself wantonly. She leant
forward and played with her breasts, cupping and kneading them sexily.
She leant forward against the throne and jiggled her bulging rump to
cheers from Zaadon's advisors.
Even they rarely got to glimpse a slavegirl this talented at flaunting
herself.
Herras ended her little dance by climbing up on the footstool standing
before the throne and dropping to all fours, her legs spread and her
buttocks thrust high in the air.
She waited there, still cooing her astonishment, while Zaadon came up
behind her.
"Oooh, good girl!" he whispered mockingly. "You know just how I like it,
don't you?"
The little slavegirl whimpered as she felt his hand squeezing at her
bare cheeks. She gasped at the strange new sensation as his hand
wandered lower and he traced a finger along a different area that she
was meekly presenting to him.
As she felt herself getting moist, she tried to move her legs together,
but found that she had to stay just as she was.
Her big, painted lips parted in concern as she heard pants falling to
the floor. But before she could make a sound, a big pair of hands
grabbed her around her waspish waist and she suddenly felt...
Her gasp of pain ended sharply as she felt him sliding into her, filling
her completely. Her eyes bulged as he thrust into her again, harder. She
could feel his hairy body slapping repeatedly against her jiggling ass
cheeks as he drove into her again and again.
She had never felt anything like it - the warm, rock-hard organ forcing
its way deeper, deeper into her, rubbing against her, the fire deep
within her building, building...
She exploded.
She stared at the slack, furiously blushing faces of her men and
suddenly heard a high, shrill squeal of pure girlish delight echoing
throughout the room. As her pleasure somehow built further, she vaguely
realised that the scream was coming from between her own swollen lips.
Her shrieks grew louder and louder. Soon her eyes were closed, her face
was screwed up into a ball of pure bliss, and her big lips were forced
into a circle as she screamed her pleasure to the room of watching men.
She swayed forward with the impact of each powerful thrust, her vast
breasts swinging beneath her, a mixture of blood and moisture trickling
down her legs.
Zaadon, smiling between his little grunts of exertion, reached a hand
down and grabbed a soft handful of one of her huge tits. She liked that
even more, feeling her nipples tingle and swell in their tiny, jewelled
enclosures as he roughly squeezed at her breasts, rubbing his fingers
across her big areola.
"You like being fucked like this, don't you, my little slavegirl?" he
shouted, still thrusting hard.
Gasping between screams, she found she couldn't help but answer. "I DO!
MASTER, I DO!" she shrieked.
"Sing to me, girl!" he shouted. "Tell me of how much you love this!"
Unable to stop, Herras tossed her head back and, in a sweet, super-high
soprano, began to sing. She sang of her lowliness and her girlish
delight that her master would deign to take his pleasures in her
'unworthy flower'. She sang of the excellence of his organ and how much
lust it inspired in her, she sang that bending over and being filled
with his 'royal nectar' would bring honour to her unworthy family for
many generations to come.
Her song was interrupted by her little squeaks and gasps of pleasure and
sometimes by her breathlessness, but she did a wonderful job anyway.
She was rhapsoding on the deliciousness of his cum when she felt an
explosion of warm gooeyness deep, deep within her. Her voice lifted to
an operatic trill and then to a sustained full-throated squeal of
delight as they both came spectacularly.
She sat there, panting, for a moment before Zaadon got his voice back.
"Clean me, girl" he commanded.
Still too weak to move voluntarily, Herras nevertheless found herself
turning on all fours towards her master. As she turned her back to them,
she showed her audience that she was no longer a virgin.
Herras whimpered when she saw the huge, dripping manhood thrusting at
her face. Despite all of her efforts, she couldn't stop herself from
opening her mouth, licking her full lips and slowly leaning forwards to
kiss her master's organ. She stopped a moment to lick at the still
bleeding head, tasting his thick cum melting in her mouth, before
sliding her mouth down along his shaft. She felt its throbbing warmth
against her tongue as she locked her lips tightly around it and sucked,
rubbing at it with her tongue and the skin of her cheeks, tasting the
saltiness filling her mouth.
Her muffled whine was inaudible as she hungrily cleaned away.
She thrust her nose hard into his pubic hair as she slurped, smelling as
well as tasting the sweat dripping down his hairy body. The crown that
she was still wearing rubbed against his belly.
She pulled back and concentrated on the wrinkles near the tip,
investigating them with her tongue, forced to follow her master's orders
and clean him off as perfectly as she could.
"That's enough" Zaadon called, placing a hand on her forehead and
pushing her away.
She fell backwards off the little stool and lay in a heap, her immense
breasts bouncing, cum dripping from her mouth and down her legs, the
crown dislodged from her soft little head.
"Now, tell me" Zaadon demanded. "Which among you little peons still
wants that sniveling whore as your king?"
The roomful of men just stood silently.
Some stared down at their former leader as she tried to clean the oozing
cum off her face.
"I didn't think so!" Zaadon brayed in triumph. "I'll let you stupid
whelps in on a little secret - I've known about your silly little
'revolution' from the beginning! My spies are everywhere, and I knew
everything that you were up to! Everything!"
He snapped his fingers and suddenly an army of guards burst into the
room from doors hidden behind the tapestries that lined the walls.
"Some of you may escape with your lives. Maybe" he smiled cruelly. "I
will spend many days considering what to do with all of you. Maybe, like
your little leader here, you will end up being used to entertain my
loyal troops. Maybe I will think of something even..." his voice trailed
off into a squeak.
Zaadon was trying to clear his throat when he suddenly noticed that
everyone was staring bug-eyed at his still-exposed genitals. He was
about to retrieve his robes, when he suddenly felt an unusual tingle.
Glancing down in horror he saw his manhood dwindling away to
nothingness. "But! But!" he squeaked pathetically in his new high-
pitched voice.
He heard laughter.
As he felt his new genitals taking shape, he glanced up.
The rebels were laughing uncontrollably, holding their sides. His own
men were staring at him in wide-eyed horror.
As Zaadon's remaining clothes flew off to reveal his softening figure,
one of the rebels called out: "We knew that you were watching us. Even
your own spies hate you, they never told you the most important thing.
We knew about your knowledge of the Dark Arts and that you would try to
use them. That's why Herras traveled so far to find a Warlock who could
cast a protection spell".
Zaadon, gaping in disbelief, suddenly raised his arms above his head and
began to dance like an unusually sluttish dancing girl. Shaking his
swelling hips and kneading the mountainous breasts that popped from his
delicate chest.
"Whatever spell you tried to put on us would rebound on you..." he
looked around at Zaadon's slack-jawed minions "...and your men."
They all gave little squeals as they began to change too.
Zaadon, looking incredibly sexy in his new role as a slavegirl, cooed in
horror as he glanced around the room. He wouldn't have thought that
things could get any worse...
Until...
A tall, bearded, wall of a man picked himself up from the floor at
Zaadon's feet.
Herras looked down thankfully at his restored, naked body. He picked up
the crown where it lay nearby.
"All hail King Herras!" the rebels shouted triumphantly.
The king smiled down at them. "Before I don my royal robes, I think that
there's one little thing that I should do..."
Zaadon the Great squealed as Herras's hand slid around her waspish
little waist.
"I think someone needs a spanking... and more" Herras smiled down at the
whorish little girl. "And after that, I think I'll put you all in a
special community harem, so that everyone can come and fuck you just as
hard as you've been fucking us all these years. You'll like that, won't
you?"
Zaadon pouted up at her huge master.
"Why don't you sing us a song about it?" Herras said as the slavegirl
obediently dropped on all fours in front of him.
Maris
- 12.12.2020
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