Dharma and Greg and the Triumph of SO THERE
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Dharma WheelChapter 7 free porn video
Nick continued his Tales of the East Asian islands:
Arriving at the kingdom, Maja watches the prince revert back to his asshole nature, sneering at the security contingent who police the large, busy port while commanding one to send notice to his father of his arrival. Worse are the fishermen and other peasants so much lower than him in status that they may have well been a part of the path in which he walks, flesh and bone crushed beneath his graceful, sandal clad feet. Mostly they are an annoyance to be avoided visually and definitely physically.
Unfortunately he has a god amongst the entourage who parade to the sanctuary of the huge walled residency of the royals. The curious and the awed press towards him, causing him to grow more and more infuriated.
"Someone's calling your name, Prince," he hears behind him. "She seems quite insistent." Looking back at his new lover quiets his temper, but when he looks where she points, she sees him smile. His order to let a lovely young woman through may have been arrogant, but that's just his nature.
Maja likes the woman instantly, even if she obviously holds an intimate friendship with her master. She can see intelligence in the eyes, and mischievousness in the grin.
"Mother may be disappointed that you have come back so soon, instead of Father, but I'm not," the woman says cheekily. "But she will demand news of his well-being."
"The general has expanded the empire most successfully, suffering few losses of his men, and nary a scratch upon his person."
"Capturing a god as well," she grins, studying the fine figure of a god without awe. More a lusty appreciation, which Nick returns.
"One doesn't capture a god, as he would be first to tell you."
"I suppose."
"His presence made things easier in a way, and much different from our usual conquering. I will tell you more later."
"Can I stay with your group?"
"Of course."
She allows the prince to lead the way, encountering Maja when she retreats. "Oh. Hello. Who are you?"
"I am the prince's body slave."
"How intriguing," the young woman giggles.
"As are you. You seem to know the prince well."
"We grew up together. We're best friends."
"I bet you led him into all kinds of mischief as children."
"I did actually. Perhaps I still do. We are promised."
"You will be his wife?"
"As soon as he stops playing soldier."
"He likes playing soldier."
"Oh I know. My father puts up with it." The prince looks back and shakes his head, not the least bit annoyed. Amused would be closer.
"You like teasing him."
"I do. My father likes him actually. He approves of his abilities as a warrior. Except for his problem with chain of command."
"He completely respects your father as commander. I have seen it."
"Really? That's good. He's always respected Father. He always wanted to be him."
"He won't be."
"Probably not."
"He knows it. He will be your father's commander."
The lovely woman's smile disappears a moment. She nods. "That would work. A general's general. Not having to suffer the indignities of the lower ranks."
"He's told you about that?"
"I help calm him. That's your job now."
"Our job."
The grin reappears. "Okay. But it is perfect. I come from generations of commanders. My grandfather in fact advises the emperor of military things. He advised his father. But he has become quite old. And my generation, all female, so it would fit that my husband would take that position."
"Why not you?"
"Me? A soldier?"
"Why not? I'm a warrior."
"A woman warrior?"
"Yes. You'll see later. Me and my sister warriors perform a martial dance. But you needn't be a fighter to advise and strategize."
"The emperor would never take me seriously."
"But the prince does."
The woman looks excited. "True, but it would have to be discrete, just between him and me, like when we were growing up. He used to teach me how to fight too."
"I can teach you more."
"Okay. I'm glad he found you. He needs you."
Maja nods in agreement.
The woman continues. "How did he find you?"
"Nick."
"Who?"
"The god."
"Oh. You'll introduce me?"
"Nick would very much like that."
The woman actually shivers a little, and whispers, "For a god, he's sexy."
Maja laughs. "You don't know the half of it."
It turns out meeting the emperor proves disappointing to Nick. He has an inkling upon their arrival at the capital port city. The division between the haves and have-nots has a cruel demarcation. Rags and rich clothes. Hovels and elegant homes. The few disregard the many, shoving them aside arrogantly, disdainfully, just as the prince has done, with perhaps somewhat less obviousness. Any in between, like fishermen or traders, who provide for themselves and their families with their occupations, look much healthier and better dressed than the unwashed masses, but not nearly as elegant as the elite, and are shunned just as much. Europe had been like this too often, and Northern Africa, but there seems to be an extreme here.
Before entering the room in which the emperor awaits, a much plainer version of the prince confronts them. "You know better," the man scolds his brother.
Though bowed by the scolding, the pretty faced prince argues, "This is a unique situation, my brother, calling for unusual circumstances."
"Commoners. Foreigners. Women," the older brother responds, his disgust much better hidden than his younger brother, but nevertheless obvious. "None can be welcomed into the emperor's inner chamber, no matter the circumstances."
"My apologies, Prince," the general's daughter says. "Seeing your brother, a most happy surprise, must have clouded my mind. I will guide them to the servant's commons for them to wait."
The older brother nods at her and at a guard. Nick's entourage, including his companion and the two gay actors continuing their work guarding the beautiful islander from being sullied, as well as Maja, follow the general's daughter. The man whom the older brother chooses and another well-armed and serious looking man accompanies them.
"And who is this who does not follow them?" asks the older prince.
"A gift, Prince," Nick finally speaks. "If I presume right, this is the place where visitors bring tributes to the emperor."
"Correct."
"She is such a tribute."
"Look at her, brother," the younger prince insists. "Is she not a most beautiful gift?"
Nick's daughter smiles, and the stoic brother reveals awe and steps back before recovering. "Fine, but better make your reason clear to the emperor."
"I will have much to make clear to him, brother," the pretty-faced prince admits.
They enter the chamber. Three more guards entering with them. The emperor sits on an overly lavish throne, a dark wood inlaid with a green stone in the shape of a dragon with red jeweled eyes which seems to create an aura around the emperor's head. A large crystal orb sits at the top, resting in a cup, with a convex length beneath it, carved out of the dark wood, looking like a scepter. Two much older men frame him. The head priest, Nick figures, and the young prince's future grandfather through marriage. All three look intelligent, especially the emperor, who also looks much more vital. Middle age and abundance of food has made him plump and on the verge of being fat.
He smiles with abundant confidence, but with surprisingly little arrogance.
"We do not bow here to a god," he says, his voice both rich and soft.
Nick smiles. "For that I am relieved." They share a laugh, the emperor containing some surprise. "But I'm afraid a god does not bow to anyone."
"Understandable. What is the woman doing here?"
"A gift. A tribute. A trade. She is yours."
"Let me see her."
His daughter has shyly clung to Nick. He gently urges her forward. "How much do you wish to see of her?" Nick asks.
"Turn around," the emperor orders and Nick translates unnecessarily but purposely. Her leather outfit clings to her body, and leaves most of her limbs exposed. Though repressing a leer, the emperor obviously enjoys the view, especially her face when she finishes the graceful turn. "A most extraordinary gift," the emperor approves. "I will see more of her later. But what is this you say about a trade?"
"Emperor, if I may," his youngest son bravely intrudes.
"Please. I have looked forward to your report since hearing of your quick return here."
"As predicted, we made an easy conquest of the island. Even easier than predicted. We crushed their fighters, leaving none left to crush. Your warriors survived almost to a man. The island's chief has been killed as has his priest and his advisor. With them ended, resistance ended. We made truce with the rest."
"Truce?" the old military advisor grumbles. "Truce suggests equals."
"Perhaps truce isn't the right word. An agreement? Confronting Nick changed things."
"Nick?" the emperor responds.
"Me," said Nick.
"We know you by another name, warrior priest."
"Legends change as they move from tongue to ear over so many generations. Heroes become more heroic. Villains become more villainous. And names as well. You actually call me 'Warrior Priest God' but a much shorter version, the words sort of smashed together until they are barely recognizable. You can call me that or Nick or whatever. Anything but Master. That word grates on my nerves."
He watches, amused, as the high priest and the emperor confer, quietly but heatedly. The emperor reports, "It seems my priest wishes to test you."
"Not the first time," Nick sighs. "Though a dialogue would be better. Maybe learn something from an eternal version of yourself, priest?"
"What of this so called agreement?" the old advisor gruffly reminds them.
The prince looks to Nick. "Go on, young prince. It is your commander's efforts."
The prince begins, "I understand our purpose. This is not my first invasion. We claim new land for you, Emperor, and to make the empire even greater. We destroy the strong and make the weak our slaves, including any of the women who might appeal to us. We possess them, just as we possess the land, doing what we wish with it and them. We accomplished this, but made it better."
"Better? How?" asks his future grandfather.
"By helping us instead of hindering us. By making it easier capturing the rest of the islands and making use of the islanders instead of killing them all. By them showing us the resources available and working for us to get those resources."
"Them," the advisor grumbles. "Slaves?"
The prince nods. "Slaves. Some even volunteered to be slaves here."
"Son," the emperor responds slowly, "Why would a people allow themselves to be peacefully enslaved? And why would we want them here?"
"They prefer working for us than dying. And the ones coming here would be like this beauty. Or they would do things our people don't wish to do."
"There are many here who would to the worst work to at least have some work."
"Are there? Even the lowest refuse the worst work, or do a terrible job at it, or complain and grump and argue. These people would never do that. They want to be here, in this great civilized place, and their gratefulness would show in their compliance in doing whatever we want them to do."
"These islander women, they are as beautiful as my gift here?" asks the emperor.
"Not as beautiful, but quite attractive. And willing."
"Willing," the old advisor grumps.
"We dominate," the emperor reminds his son. "We don't need help from others, from foreigners. We take. We don't ask. We don't coddle. We don't negotiate. Others tremble in the wake of our power as we stake our claim literally. Penetrating all we confront. Men and women. No mercy. No weakness."
"Yes emperor," the prince bows, shamed by his father, but showing little of it on his face.
"Good. Pull together another force and return. We have warriors?" he asks his military advisor.
"A small group rests after a northern success."
"Their rest is over."
"And we have some being trained itching for battle."
"Good."
"Excuse me," Nick interrupts. "You plan to do as you originally planned? Slaughtering and raping my people?"
"Your people?" asks the emperor.
"Your most revered god's people, yes."
"How are these your people and not us?"
Nick laughs. "How long since you've witnessed my presence, or any of my fellow gods. Only legends, isn't it? But these people I have lived with. Some are even my progeny."
"Sons and daughters?"
"Generations."
The emperor looks thoughtfully at Nick's daughter, whose smile disguises her anger. She supposedly doesn't understand. Nick tamps down his own smile when the allure of the beautiful island woman seems to convince the emperor not to go with his suspicions concerning her lineage.
"You are protecting these people," the emperor finally says.
Nick nods, "And yours."
"You stopped our invasion."
"In a way. I demonstrated my power and my invulnerability. I had to twice because your general's second wasn't convinced. He tried to continue your invasion by getting rid of me. A bad choice."
"I wondered why my son came back and not him."
"That's why."
"You're no longer there."
"It doesn't matter. The lieutenant had two trusted men with him for his misguided attack. I only killed him. None of your warriors know who killed the others."
"You threaten us."
"I do." Nick notices the guards tense. "No one here. But you understand how vulnerable you are?"
"You threaten me?"
"I just told you I won't threaten you. What good would that do? I can tell your heir is no better than you in terms of the disregard for people not of your ilk. Even most of your people suffer because they are so much lower than your elite. Your son looks to be a stiffer version of you. At least you appreciate the arts your highly civilized culture has cultivated. The finest performances I have seen, not to mention your exquisite and meticulous ceremonies. I doubt he appreciates these fine things like you and I do.
"And if I was to sweep away your entire family, chopping the head off your empire so to speak, only terrible things would follow, violence and mayhem and chaos. Everything beautiful would be destroyed. Yes, the strata of your society has a deep ugliness to it. Those that aren't lucky enough to be born amongst the elite or in a family of artists or artisans or priests are looked upon with the disdain if looked upon at all. Perhaps a few can rise up and be seen. Those with remarkable talents. Those willing to die for their emperor. Most remain invisible. Too uncivilized. Too uneducated. Too dirty. Too ugly. But to break your fragile structure, your hierarchy, the vast ugliness you hold down would take over, if only for spite, or to covet what they could never have, and this bright civilization with its dark core would become all darkness and ugliness. So no, I'm not a threat to you."
"You think you could topple an empire?"
"I know I could."
"Alone?"
"Yes." To demonstrate, Nick moves so fast he can barely be seen. He extracts every weapon he notices, on the guards, on the younger prince and on the old advisor, and piles them in front of the emperor. Pulling the halberds from the guards sends them to the floor.
The emperor's protectors want to do something, but don't know what. He salves their concerns, shouting, "Stand easy. I am fine." And then he laughs. "I will have to rethink who I bring into this room with my heirs and the future of my empire all here."
"I thought you had a middle son," says Nick and watches the power elite all shudder.
"Things really would get ugly," says the emperor. "I like my pleasure. But a mind seeking only pleasurable sensations isn't really a mind at all, but a useless pile of flesh. Your demonstration on the island changed my intentions through my representative there. What do you hope to gain through this latest demonstration?"
"I like to think I brought reason to your general. Unlike here, a catalyst of mine did chop the heads off the leadership there, assuring their beliefs in fighting to the last man, woman and child before succumbing to the rule of a lesser people would not happen. And yes, the chief and his entourage truly believed his were the great people of the world. It kept a god, his brilliant friends, and even some of the finest of your people shoved to the side and barely tolerated."
"I have heard the exiled troupe ended up on your island. I saw them as a child, and never agreed with my father about exiling people whose very philosophy, though counter to ours, by its nature could never be a threat. And in fact it was seeing them that began my love of performance, and their exile made me want things different, as far as that specific attitude of ruling."
"You are in luck, emperor. Your youngest knew this, and allowed them to return home to perform for you. Mostly second generations from those you saw, but they have been well trained and well-rehearsed, and you will not be disappointed."
"Excellent. They can open my new theater. I imagine they can't have brought any sets."
"Never had anything but the most rudimentary. Part of their magic is to suggest places."
"But to have something behind them would make it better, wouldn't it?"
"Of course. There's another group. More movement than telling a story, but very exhilarating."
"Sounds interesting."
"Thing is, it's women. Only women though. No mix with men."
"You do like to change things. You understand why only men perform."
"A fear of lewdness I imagine."
"Yes. To start. And I think men have a greater strength on stage, even playing women."
"Well, neither will be a problem with them."
"Oh?"
"They couldn't be stronger, and only a man wanting to be thoroughly dominated would ever consider their performance a lewd seduction. And even then, they might fear for their genitalia. It's an acrobatic martial dance with knives and swords."
"Women warriors?"
"Yes. It may seem strange to you, but I know societies where women fight alongside men. They can be the most ruthless. Quicker, more agile, cleverer, making up for the disadvantage in strength."
"If nothing else, it sounds amusing. Let them perform. What else do you want, Warrior Priest God?"
"Aside from the safety of my people?"
"I will think on that."
"Then think about this. Think about the difference between rape and mating. Only the most brutal or the most lost in blood lust imagines fucking a dry pussy, causing great trauma and anguish could possibly be better than a woman welcoming the fuck, enjoying it, and returning the enjoyment, making it wonderful instead of horrible. If you consider women lesser beings compared to men, as I'm certain you do, wouldn't that make it like a slave making things better for her master? Not only is that specifically what is happening on the island, but also it is a model for the islanders benefitting their new owners by rewarding benevolence with harder work, greater and more diverse resources, and enabling a much easier conquering of all the islands of the archipelago."
"And if I don't go along with this, you will make it very difficult for us there."
"Yes, but that's not what you should consider. My threat is not a challenge. It's simply a natural response to a being protecting itself and its own. My people just happen to be better at defending themselves than any you have encountered before."
"I will think on it. What else?"
"I wish to impregnate one or more of your wives or concubines."
The emperor laughs. "A true trade."
"If you like. But I see it as improving the royal stock. Not in just the children produced, who, though not gods, would be healthy, good looking and intelligent. But in giving safety to the wombs I impregnate, allowing safe births in the future. I have heard your wives had life threatening pregnancies. None died, thankfully, but none were able to give birth again. I can change that."
"I will trade. Any one of my concubines. She will be yours and no longer mine. A stranger of such beauty. You have changed me with this exotic gift and the desire she provokes in me."
Nick smirks, "I may be a god, but I am less than the best of your people, meaning you. I take it your wives prefer such indifference towards your concubines."
The emperor laughs. "A wise guess."
"I believe you to be a strong ruler. For that you must need wisdom. But I see it lacking in some things. You have a chance to sire more royals."
"You would be the sire."
"Of course."
"Anything else?"
"No."
The emperor laughs. "My youngest never instructed you on addressing me properly? I figured you being a god made it unnecessary, so I made no comment."
"You figured correctly. Your son did instruct me. I told him I address a man as a man, no matter his station. I found his response interesting. Concerned of course. Maybe a little worried. But amusement mostly. I think he wanted see how you'd react."
Another laugh and the emperor asks his son, "Did I disappoint?"
"No emperor," the young prince smiles. "Your anger at his rudeness lasted but a second. If I was amused, you seemed doubly so. I'd like a word with you in private."
"Tomorrow. Show our guests their quarters. For respected visitors of course, or better yet your brothers if he is off as usual passed out amongst his dissolute friends and their whores. If any of his whores are there, give them to the servants as they deserve such for their bad taste."
The prince bows to his father, as does his brother.
"Everyone leave," his father orders. "I wish to be alone with my gift."
As soon his command is granted, he gestures for her to come to him. He stands in front of her, no more than an inch taller than her. He is on the tall side of medium height compared to his people, and she is as tall as any woman he has known. Unlacing a wide belt defining her shape above and below it, both having full and firm form, he removes the hold it has on her robe, and it opens to reveal soft skin darker than he expects, the color of wetted sand. Not the pale, almost fluorescent white of his women, an ideal of femininity. A powder often covers faces which have been tanned by the sun. And yet seeing her full breasts and buttocks defiantly holding their shape, and the amazing smoothness of her skin as he pulls on her waist to turn her around, her luscious femininity has never been matched. And lifting his eyes to her gorgeous face, even with the tension there with her tight smile and the slight wrinkle between her eyes, it leaves him breathless.
"Ssh," he quiets her worry, his fingers smoothing out the wrinkle. This simple gesture calms her, and her smile lifts, no longer restricted by tension. Her lovely big eyes seem to share in that smile. She reaches out carefully, and strokes his strong oval face. Hands lower, stroking across his proud chest, until it reaches his sash and unties it. He laughs. His hands move lower as well, and find wonderful purchase, for both him and her, on her breasts. Teasing nipples at the center of small dark areolas, he discovers a length, not freakish but exceptional, and a sensitivity, as her breathing deepens.
He pauses his ministrations in order to shed his clothing, leaving a cloth hiding his cock similar in material to his sash. It doesn't hide his excitement, creating a draped pole pointing at her just as her nipples point at him, but of course in a much more demonstrative way.
When she kneels, her eyes finally leaving his, and takes hold of his erection, he gasps at her forwardness. She smiles up at him, her eyes mischievous and excited, before returning them to his engorgement, pulling down the hiding cloth and giggling at the bounce of his cock. Not a people of large members, his is, like his height, a little longer than average, maybe six inches, but has some girth to it, making it more impressive. He gasps much louder when she takes it into her mouth. Again she looks up at him with smiling, excited eyes. Her gaze never shifts as she watches him succumb to her blow job. She has been trained well, sucking and stroking perfectly, even squeezing his balls gently until she feels them contract and their content shoots into her mouth. She swallows the bitter, slimy essence of an emperor, tasting its unpleasant flavor, hiding as best she can the distaste.
He collapses onto his throne, panting. A wet pop announces the release of his dwindling cock from her mouth. "Are you a demoness, sucking my soul out through my penis?" he asks, but his smile shows no worry of such a thing.
Leaning down, he pulls up at her armpits and she stands. Moving hands to her marvelous buttocks, he brings her closer, until her legs straddle his. Her amazing breasts become available, and he suckles each one, tasting her for the first time, and thoroughly enjoying the flavor and the texture. She moans at his attention.
His fingers move down and discover the moist fissure of her cunt. Exploring her slick petals, he winks at her when she moans louder than ever, the exploration finding the pearl nestled just above. A finger goes deeper, and then another, stroking and exploring that most mysterious and stimulating chamber. Pushed into the second knuckle, he discovers the barrier of skin revealing her virgin status. The amazing blow job suggests experience. The hoped for barrier suggests otherwise.
Not since his youth, whore mongering or raping the vanquished, has he entered a woman for the first time who has had any other cock inside her. Any woman, wife or concubine, knows only his cock. He tells her this in his relief, even knowing she does not understand. "I would have fucked you anyway, my demoness. You have that much effect on me. But it would have been brutal. Rape. Like old times perhaps. As would be fitting, you being a foreign creature. I would be the invader once again, destroying all who once owned this territory."
He keeps fingering her, his other hand taking over for his mouth on her tits, with occasional nips and tongue laps. She reaches down and pulls on his hardening cock.
"Look at me getting hard. You might think it was the memory of rape. It's not. I admit in the heat of things, of invading, of conquering, my spear covered in the viscera of young warriors, an altogether different spear, one that could feel the penetration, wanted nothing more than to complete the conquest. It demanded ravishment. Thrilling victory becomes lustful need. My status provided the loveliest creature to sate it. No one near your beauty of course. But like our god Nick, a fellow warrior or two would find the best of them, hoping for future favor probably. They held her down until I penetrated her. Once in, and taking control of the woman, I demanded to be left alone. I fucked her until I came. Only then did I see her pain and suffering. I know her brethren had probably received greater pain, but not nearly the suffering.
"Most lay there, acting as dead as their warriors, my flesh spear wounding them as much as my wooden one had done. Except for their faces. A few kept struggling. I know most of my fellow warriors would kill such bravery, but I just didn't have the heart for it, calling my providers back to do whatever they wanted with the woman, leaving them to it.
"So I would have raped you just as I did them, to take ownership over those that had come before, to conqueror their territory, making it mine. I would have enjoyed it, no less because I could stare at your amazing body and your gorgeous face. And there's the friction that makes me cum. And afterwards, you might have not even looked angry or suffering or in pain. It doesn't matter. I wouldn't have liked it.
"I have a weakness. Its name is woman. My women specifically." He laughs. "My wives get away with a lot because of it. But I love nothing more than looking at them. Even hearing their higher voices. Especially when they are cumming. Nothing thrills me more, not even my orgasms. You might think it's against our ways, practically worshipping women. It's not. We cherish beauty and grace. What could be more beautiful and graceful than a woman? Especially you my demon slave. Males dominate. We own our women. Just like we own other objects of beauty. Except of course, you're so much more than that. No object. You're us, but a lovelier version. No rude jutting appendage, or hard chests and faces. So much softer, especially those endlessly fun and excitable breasts. And cunts, a place of infinite mystery and exploration, exactly meant for our appendages, our favorite place for them, and a place from which, after we enter into it, we all exit from it, a different version of us, and take our first breath of life.
He becomes hard and pulls her onto his lap. She guides him into her well-oiled cunt. After careful entry, opening her up and coating his glans, she suddenly drops, sending him deep.
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