Grade Inflation Eighth Grade Fellation
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The Eighth God Chapter 7 free porn video
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, places and characters are products of my imagination and used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblances to actual people and events are purely coincidental. All characters are over the age of consent.
The author does not condone the abuse or any untoward treatment of women. Please treat everyone with respect in the real world. Thank you!
Minister Orvon
Orvon walked with the royal family at a brisk pace towards the royal bedchamber. What timing... The minister thought to himself. The royal hall had burst into a muted frenzy when the servant announced that the king had awoken. Orvon noticed that the queen and the first prince did not look particular happy at this latest development. Orvon himself did not know what was going to happen. He’d had many conversations with the king before he became too ill, but never did the king make his intentions clear in regards to the succession. In fact, the king almost purposely avoided the topic altogether.
Just as they reached the ornate doors of the bedchamber, the king’s royal housekeeper, a triple onyx slave, stepped out and closed the door behind her. The slave had the highest gem-rank possible, and had been with the royal household for a decade. She was extremely well trained and beautiful. Her muscles rippled as she moved, attesting to her martial training as a bodyguard, and her movements were fluid and filled with grace. Truly a slave fit for a king.
“The king wishes to see each of you separately.” The slave spoke in a quiet but compelling tone, her words flowing like golden caramel.
Orvon’s eyebrows jumped, and he saw similar reactions from the various members of the royal family. Separately? His mind raced. So he still doesn’t mean to name a successor? He wondered, for if the king meant to announce his successor, he’d need for there to be witnesses to the declaration.
“My queen,” Orvon spoke. “If you please.”
The queen nodded, frowning, and shot a hesitant glance back at the eldest prince, Ravon, before she walked into the chamber, the large double doors thudding shut after her.
A few minutes later, the queen came out of the chamber with a stormy countenance, and made a beeline towards the eldest prince. The pair went down the corridor, and whispered furiously amongst themselves.
“She doesn’t look happy.” General Kalman’s booming voice echoed in the corridor.
“No, it certainly doesn’t seem that way.” Jacob said mildly.
The pair came back, and the eldest prince went into the room. He came out a few minutes later, with an even angrier face than the queen’s. He took Carosa by her arm and the pair left without saying a word.
“Guess it’s my turn.” Jacob went in, and came out with a carefully neutral face. He also left with his twin slaves in tow, with no words exchanged with the rest.
The youngest prince Avery had been sitting quietly by himself, twiddling his fingers nervously. He stood up and entered the chamber, and came out a few minutes later. It was clear by the stains on his face that he’d been crying.
“He’s dying.” He said simply, and burst into tears. His uncle quickly gave him a hug, comforting him for a little while before entering the chamber himself.
Avery sat next to Orvon, still sniffling. “What did he say to you?” Orvon asked gently.
“Nothing, really.” Avery shook his head. “He just told me to take care of myself. He said that there will be trouble to come...” Avery looked up at Orvon sadly. “His voice ... He ... He could barely get his words out.” Fresh tears began to flow from the young prince’s eyes. “I know I never got to know him as well as a father and son should ... But he’s still my father.” The tears rolled down Avery’s cheeks and fell from his face. “I only have the fondest memories of him from my childhood. How he played with me in the palace courtyard ... Bounced me upon his knee...” His voice trailed off as he fell into a silent reverie.
They waited silently, with only the occasional sniffle from the young prince, until general Kalman came out of the chamber. “Your turn, old friend.” The big man said.
“How is he?” Orvon asked as he stood.
“Not well...” Kalman sighed. “I could hardly believe he’s only five years older than me.”
“Did he say anything about-”
“No,” Kalman cut him off. “He only stressed upon me how important it is to keep our borders secure once he’s gone...” He let out a huge breath. “You know there will be a lot of vultures circling around our little kingdom.”
Orvon nodded, bid the big man farewell, and went inside.
The chamber was dark, and was thick with the smell of medicinal incense. Orvon approached the large bed, and the royal slave held open a thin curtain to reveal the frail King Wymer Volk, the fourteenth of his line. The king had once been a strong, vital man. Orvon thought about the days when he rode side by side with him on the battlefield, watching the great man wreaking havoc amongst the barbarian lines with his greatsword. What a sight he was then. Jet black, long flowing locks and eyes that twinkled like stars in the night sky ... Yet here he laid on his bed, the disease making him look twenty years older. His once black hair was now pure grey, and Orvon could barely make out his eyes in the deep hollows of their sockets.
“Orvon ... Old friend...” The king gasped and lifted a shaking hand.
Orvon took the man’s hand and grasped it. “I’m here.” He said.
“I feel ... so tired...” The old man rasped.
Orvon looked at the man helplessly. “What are the physicians saying?”
“Nothing that I don’t already know...” The king said. “I don’t have long, Orvon. I wanted to ... Apologize to you.”
“There’s nothing for you to apologize for, Your Grace.”
“No ... I have not been a good king...” The king wheezed. “I was only good for the battlefield. But you were the one who kept the kingdom together.”
“I only did my duty.”
“I ... I should have paid more attention to my sons.” Wymer coughed. “Look at them now ... An imbecile, a cruel man who would never place the good of the kingdom above his own, and a child who’s still wet behind the ears...” He sighed. “I can’t name any of them as my successor.”
“But ... There must be someone, Your Grace.” Orvon stammered. “General Kalman, then?”
The king laughed, a chalky, guttering sound. “He’d never take the job, we both know that.” He sighed again. “I simply don’t know what to do. And I’m too tired now to think about it.” He turned to the minister, his eyes filled with sorrow. “I’m sorry, my old friend, but I must place one final burden upon you. I’m leaving you with this mess of a kingdom that you must sort out.” He said. “My first two sons would tear this kingdom apart in order to take this throne ... Even if I had named any of them as my successor, I doubt that would change.”
Orvon bit his lips. As much as he’d like to disagree, he could not think of a solution for the situation either. I should’ve paid more attention to the princes. He berated himself. He paused, and then asked, hesitantly. “What about your daughter, Princess Isabel?”
“Don’t mention that name!” The king sputtered violently, and fell into a coughing fit. The slave quickly fetched a cup of water, and held it to the king’s mouth. Orvon helped the old man lean forward slightly, but the water still spilled slightly as the king drank, rolling down his unkempt, grey beard.
“She is dead to me.” The king gasped as his cough finally subsided. “Here I lay on my deathbed, but she still hasn’t come to visit once!“
Well, it’s no wonder, considering how things ended between the two of you. Orvon thought to himself.
The princess had been secretly in love with an extraordinarily skilled but lowborn knight named Saledos, and when the great wyrm Nalzrydis terrorized the kingdom, he had been the one to slay the beast in a duel, with the help of magical equipment from the royal armory. In elation, the king had not only given the man the equipment he used to slay the dragon and a large plot of land complete with a tower, he also promised to grant any wish the knight would ask of him. Saledos had asked for the princess’ hand in marriage before the entire court, and King Wymer, while furious, could not renege on his promise in front of all his lords. And so the Dragonslayer, as he became known, whisked away the King’s beloved daughter to live with him at his tower, and the king became bitter and angry at what he perceived to be his daughter’s betrayal.
“Enough, old friend.” The king wheezed on his bed. “I’m sorry ... But I leave you with much to be done.” He said. “Now leave me to die in peace.”
Orvon nodded and quietly exited the room. He wanted nothing more than to sit down with his old friend again and reminisce about the past before his passing. But the King was right, He had a lot of work to do.
The royal slave followed him out of the room, and closed the door behind her. “Please wait, Minister.” Orvon turned and looked at her curiously.
“Pardon my insolence, but...” The slave hesitated. “We all know the king doesn’t have much time left.” She said, her lashes dipping in deference. “Some of the slaves around the palace are uncertain about the future.” She walked closer to the minister. “I have my own concerns as well.”
Orvon nodded. He wasn’t sure how much the slave knew. She was the personal slave of the King, and Orvon knew that slaves often had the most intimate knowledge of their masters.
The slave came even closer. “Once the king is gone ... A slave like me will simply be passed around to whoever has the power to take me.” She paused, and whispered. “I think most are expecting one of the older princes to take the throne in the end. And I, for one, do not wish to serve either.”
The slave put a hand on Orvon’s chest. “Please, my lord. I know you have never taken a slave, but I can be of good use to you.” She slowly ran her hand down the minister’s chest, still muscular and broad even though he’d put the battlefield behind him many years ago. “No one would object if you claimed me as your own once the king passes. I’m sure the king would even agree if you asked him of it.”
Orvon could not help but be aroused at the sight before him. He was a man, after all, and he was not always the stoic man that he was now. The slave before him was a beautiful creature. Her creamy, blemish-less skin shone gold in the soft light of the corridor, and her almond eyes were large and glowed like enchanted ponds in children’s tales. “What is your name?” He heard himself ask.
“Sinda, your lordship.” The slave answered, batting her long lashes. She leant close to the minister, and her buxom chest squeezed against Orvon’s. “I’ll attend to all your needs...” She pressed against the minister and whispered in his ear, giving him a view of her back ... and her voluptuous ass. “And I’ll fuck whomever you tell me to fuck.” Her hand swept down to the minister’s cock and was pleased to find that it was hard and at the ready.
Orvon breathed deeply. The lovely brunette before him practically oozed sensuality. Her thick lips glistened with aromatic balm, and were open just enough for Orvon to imagine his cock sliding in between them. He controlled himself, and cleared his throat. “Ahem. Not here. Come with me.”
He led the slave to a side room, and latched the door. Sinda pounced on him as soon as he lowered the latch into place. She kissed him passionately, and said. “Mmmmm ... Thank you, your lordship.” The slave licked at Orvon’s neck and ears. “Now ... If I might be so bold ... I need your cock, my lord. I haven’t been fucked since the king had fallen ill.”
Orvon was happy to oblige, and took off his trousers as he kissed the beautiful slave. Her scent was intoxicating, and the taste of her lips even sweeter. Gods ... Royal slaves are truly in a class of their own. He thought to himself.
Sinda slinked down to kneel on the carpeted floor in front of him, took his hard cock in her warm hands and licked at the tip. “Would you like me to do anything special, my lord?” She asked, looking up to him, her eyes wide with lust. “I’m well trained in all sexual acts.”
“Just keep going...” Orvon sighed. He’d not been with female companionship for some time now, being so laden down with affairs of state. Violet, his lovely agent, had always been happy to provide him with such “stress relief”, but he had not had release since he’d sent her off on her mission.
Sinda took Orvon’s cock deep in her mouth now. Her technique was unlike anything he’d had before. She swirled her tongue around his head even as she bobbed her head up and down his shaft, deep throating it without any issue. Wymer ... You lucky old man... He thought, and groaned in pleasure.
“Mmmm ... Does this please you, my lord?” The slave took his cock out of her mouth long enough to say, and played with his bollocks with one hand all the while.
“Ugh ... Yeah ... Your mouth is incredible.” Orvon groaned.
The slave responded by shoving his cock back down her throat, taking it to the hilt. Orvon was overcome with the wonderful sensation of his cock buried deep in her hot throat, and the sight of her thick, juicy lips pressed up against the trimmed hairs of his abdomen put him over the edge. He pulled his cock from her mouth and began to cum, his orgasm long overdue.
Thick ropes of cum jetted out from the end of his dick, and splattered all over the slave’s perfect face. Thin bridges of seed draped over Sinda’s long eyelashes, causing her to blink. The minister had dispensed a huge load, and Sinda’s face was almost entirely covered.
Sinda could not help but be a little disappointed in the minister’s early release, but she let nothing show on her face but a bright smile, the well trained slave that she was. However, her disappointment soon dissipated as she realized that the minister’s cock was still rock hard. She stood up and led him to the large bed, and laid on it with her ass hanging off the edge, her legs akimbo. “Please, my lord.” She moaned, every word dripping with passionate sensuality. Her face was still covered with the minister’s thick cum, which began to drip down her face onto the sheets. “Put it in me, I can’t wait any longer.”
Indeed. Orvon thought, for in fact, the slave’s pussy was already overflowing with wetness. He shoved his cock into her without a second thought, and groaned at the wonderful hotness that now surrounded his shaft.
“Oh gods yes! My lord! Fuck me!” Sinda didn’t need to feign her arousal. She’d long admired the handsome, older man. The old and weak king could never satisfy her, even when he wasn’t ill. She’d often fantasized about the tall, stately minister taking her in all her holes whenever he came to visit the king.
Orvon looked deeply into the slave’s eyes as he fucked her. Her face, glistening with his seed, was flush and rosy. Her eyes were filled with lust and glazed with pleasure as they stared back at him. He fucked her hard and deep at a comfortable pace, enjoying the velvety pleasures of her lovely hot channel.
Sinda wrapped her legs around the minister’s waist, and pulled the man deeper into her on his thrusts. “Your cock f-feels so good inside me, my lord.” She moaned lustily. “F-fuck me hard, my lord ... Make me yours!”
Orvon put his hands around her waist, and pulled her against him, fucking her ever deeper. The slave’s huge tits provided an enticing view as they jiggled and bounced with each impact of their bodies.
The room filled with the high pitched moans of the hot slave and the minister’s muted grunts. After a few minutes of hard fucking, Sinda’s moans turned into frantic shrieks as she approached her orgasm.
“O-Oh gods, my lord! I-I’m cumming!” She grunted in ecstasy, and Orvon felt her walls squeeze around his cock with incredible tightness. “Oh gods!” She screamed as she came, and sighed her satisfaction after it subsided.
Orvon pulled out of her sweet pussy, and laid down on the bed. “Ride me.” He said.
Sinda was mildly surprised, but she did as she was asked. The king had never allowed her to be on top, even though it was her favorite position. She straddled the minister, positioning herself above his cock which glistened with their combined juices, and impaled herself upon it in one smooth motion.
“Ooh yes ... Do you like that, my lord?” She stared deeply into the minister’s eyes as she rode him passionately.
Orvon grunted his approval, and reached his hands up to fondle the huge orbs that were her breasts, ignoring the slimy strands of his cum which had dripped from her face onto her tits. Sinda was indeed extremely well trained. She swung her hips in circles as she drove her cunt up and down his shaft, and occasionally slammed herself down hard to drive his cock into the deepest recesses of her cavern.
“Oooh ... Oh yeah...” Sinda worked hard to bring the minister to a climax. Her techniques were exquisite, and after a few minutes of hard riding, she felt his hips tighten, and knew he was close.
“Ohhhh yes, my lord.” She moaned. “Cum for me ... Fill me up with your seed.”
Orvon groaned as he let loose and spurted a second, still considerable, load into the slave’s eager cunt. “Mmmmm...” He grunted as he came down from the greatest orgasm he’d had in his life. “You’re incredible...” He murmured, as he sucked on Sinda’s perky nipples.
“Thank you.” Sinda said with her silvery voice. “And so are you... Master.”
Prince Jacob
Jacob was feeling particularly irritated as he rode his carriage on the way to see Countess Eliana. His meeting with his father the day before had been short and meaningless. He remembered the way his father had looked at him when he entered the bedchamber. The old man’s baleful eyes glinted with contempt that Jacob could see clearly even in the dimly lit room.
Are you still trying to be king? The old man had asked him, and he had nodded. At least you’re not even pretending to be good. Those were the last words the king had said to him in that room. Oh how he just wanted to strangle the old man then and there.
The old man was right though, Jacob shrugged. But in this world, all one needed was power, and Jacob was prepared to do anything to get it.
Jacob met with the countess in one of the houses he owned on the far side of the city, where he was confident they would be safe from prying eyes. A mage was there as well, to perform the ritual. Jacob was not confident that the mage would keep their meeting a secret, but it would be messier to have him killed. Jacob was accompanied by his twin slaves, Ava and Ada, as always. He bade them to wait at the doorway as he approached the mage and the countess in the middle of a room, next to a small round table topped by a single, irregularly shaped stone.
The countess stood in the center of the room next to the mage, and she somehow managed to still look incredibly sexy even in a hooded black cloak. Jacob’s cock twitched at the sight of her, remember the feeling of pounding the noblewoman’s tight ass. Oh yes, she would certainly make a fine queen. He thought to himself.
“Ahem...” The mage cleared his throat. “My prince, are you absolutely certain you wish to go through with this blood ritual?”
“Are you not confident in your ability to perform it?” The prince turned to the mage.
“No ... The ritual itself is quite simple, but it is very powerful. And the consequences should either party break the oath ... is quite severe.” The mage said haltingly.
Jacob waved his hand. “You don’t need to remind me. I’ve seen what happens first hand.” He sat down next at the table, motioning Eliana to do so as well. “Let’s get on with it.”
“My prince...” The mage pushed on. “If I may be so bold, as I understand it, your side of the oath is considerably more difficult to uphold than the lady’s...”
Eliana began to open her mouth in protest, but Jacob waved to interrupt her. “I understand, mage. Now please, start the ritual.”
The mage gulped, and understood from the tone of Jacob’s voice that he did not wish to hear anything else. “Very well, your highness. Please take these knives,” He said, handing out two silver daggers to the countess and the prince. “And draw a bit of blood to place on the stone. A mere drop or two will suffice.”
The pair did as the mage asked, and the mage began to chant. The words which flowed from the mage’s mouth were ancient in origin, dating back to an era even before the God Wars days. The oathstone began to glow with a faint blue light, and rose, trembling slightly, a few inches off the table.
“Now, hold each other’s hands directly above the stone, and say your oaths.” The mage said, his eyes closed in concentration.
“I, Eliana Vero Eryon, swear to give the prince Jacob Volk the information I have at my disposal, for the purpose of him becoming king. As long as the prince fulfills his promises, this oath shall hold.” Eliana recited her prepared oath, her voice trembling slightly with nervousness.
“And I, Jacob Volk, swear to take Eliana Vero Eryon as my queen, and do her no harm. As long as the countess proves useful in my becoming king. As long as the countess fulfills her promises, this oath shall hold.”
“Very good.” The mage said. “And it is done.” The stone fell to the table as the mage finished chanting, and crumbled into dust.
“That’s all?” The countess asked, surprised.
The mage shrugged. “As I said. It is a simple ritual.” He said as he cleaned up the table and prepared to leave.
“Wait.” The countess said. “I have some questions.”
The mage stopped and turned to her expectantly.
“What if I come to harm by the prince by accident or unintentionally?”
“The magic reads your oaths through your intentions, not your words. It’s a very intuitive spell, really. It’s not a legal document.” The mage said. “It’ll only turn on you if one of you betrays the other with full intention of doing so.” He paused. “In that way, it’s really one of the safest spells out there.”
“Very good, mage.” The prince said impatiently. “Be on your way.” He nodded to the twins behind him, and they brought out a large pouch of gold. “For your troubles.” The ritual and the oathstone were certainly not cheap.
After the mage nodded his thanks and left them, Jacob turned to the countess and asked. “Satisfied? Now tell me what it is that you think was worth all this.”
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