CHAPTER 3: The Coronation!
1199 Words
Amidst the lavish chambers of the palace, a female omega’s sultry movements ignited the room with passion.
The low grunts of pleasure echoed through the bedchamber, which served as a sanctuary for Zarim's concubines. Each female omega yearned to fulfill his desires.
One such Omega arched her body in ecstasy, her moans barely audible above the rhythm of their encounter.
"Your Majesty, more," the omega whispered, her voice laced with longing. "Harder, your Majesty.. Ugh!."
Zarim's hands roamed over her supple curves, his touch both firm and harsh. With deft precision, he teased her breasts, nibbling and sucking at her hardened n*****s.
A symphony of pleasure erupted between them, leaving the Omega breathless and begging for more.
"Mmm... damn! This feels good." He enjoyed the sensation as he held her hips, guiding her movements atop him.
Unsatisfied, he abruptly laid her on the bed. Without hesitation, he thrust his manhood into her delicate frame, eliciting a piercing scream.
His forceful and rapid thrusts sent shivers down her spine. Each surge of his hips evoked loud moans from the omega. His big full length filled her entirely.
"Aaaahhhh, y-your Majesty. Ooh. It hurts. Ahhhhh." The omega pleaded for him to stop, her thighs trembling.
Ignoring her cries, he intensified his rhythm, his movements growing more forceful and violent.
He buried her face in the bed, his hand gripping it tightly while the other supported his thrusting hips.
"Fuck... aaahhhh!" He groaned.
As his orgasm neared, he withdrew and grasped the woman's hair, positioning it before him.
"Open your mouth, Omega. Wider," he commanded.
Without hesitation, he thrust his full length into her mouth, continuing his frantic movements.
With each thrust, the head of his manhood grazed her throat, narrowly avoiding splitting.
"Ahhh! Your mouth is so f*****g hot, Omega. Ahhhh..." He ignored her gagging and the saliva mingling in her mouth. "f**k, so tight. So hot."
Vulgar words erupted from his lips as he continued to dominate her mouth, his face contorting with pleasure.
"Argh," the omega uttered, her face slick with sweat and saliva.
The king moved harshly, his hands gripping her hair and matching his hips movement. As the sensation peaked, he released a torrent of c*m, filling the omega’s mouth.
"Uhmmp! Aaaahhh," the king growled, thrusting his full length deeper into her mouth. He gazed upward, his lower lip clenched, savoring the taste of ecstacy.
Withdrawing his full length, he lifted her chin to look at him. "Swallow it, Omega. Don't waste a single drop," he commanded, his grip tightening. "Don't waste it," he repeated firmly as she gagged.
He glanced at her, then averted his gaze, disgust evident in his expression. Her sweat mingled with tears, coating his face in a cold, nauseating mixture.
The sight filled him with revulsion. The omega's mouth dripped with his sweat, tears, and saliva, presenting an unappetizing view that disgusted him.
"Clean yourself," the King commanded, turning his back and leaving her alone.
The dama gathered the clothes as he exited the room.
Outside, he met his Beta, who had been waiting.
"Your Majesty, the ceremony awaits," the Beta announced.
The King promptly returned to his room, his Beta having prepared his attire for the occasion.
.......
"Long live the King! Long live his Majesty!" The attendees hailed him with cheers and salutes as he emerged, bearing witness to the transfer of the crown.
They paid their respects, kneeling before him.
In the throne room, King Ghassan sat upon the grand seat reserved for the sovereign, a seat that would soon belong to King Zarim upon his inheritance.
When a piercing siren blared, signaling his arrival, he knelt before his grandfather and uttered, "May you reign long, Your Majesty," bowing thrice.
Small firecrackers crackled nearby, their smoke prompting his grandfather to remove his crown and approach him.
Rising, he straightened his posture.
Solemnly, his grandfather unfurled a cape from his back and draped it over him, securing it at his neck.
Another siren signaled the completion of the cape, to be his eternal attire. After one deafening blast, his grandfather lifted the crown.
Breath held, he watched as it was gently placed upon his head.
"Long live the king," the audience proclaimed as his grandfather crowned him. Gracefully, he rose and fixed his gaze upon her.
A small cane was bestowed upon him, marking the coronation's end. Without words, the old king patted his shoulder, nodded. He turned to the witnesses of his ascension, preparing to face his new subjects.
Behind his calm demeanor lay a secret: he had disfigured himself for authority over the whole of Syria. His ambition fueled his desire to control and establish himself as the supreme law.
His body bore the scars of countless lashes. His soul had faced countless trials. And above all, he had fought his cousins relentlessly, proving his superiority and earning the right to rule.
Now, he possessed the throne that had once driven him to suffering and strife. He had overcome his grandfather's test and claimed his place as the kingdom's sovereign.
"Long live your Majesty," the audience roared once more. Stepping out of the Temple, he stood tall before presenting himself to the people at the castle's entrance.
"Long live the new King," they hailed him as he emerged.
They promptly knelt before him, bowing thrice in customary fashion.
"Long live the new King," they proclaimed again as he lifted the cane bestowed upon him by his grandfather, signifying his accession to the throne.
The proclamation echoed throughout the crowd, and cheers erupted from every corner.
Gazing around, he surveyed the multitude now paying him homage.
Though the confines of the kingdom's grounds denied entry to some, others patiently awaited news beyond its walls.
Amid the throngs who revered him, one individual caught his attention.
Amongst the crowd gathered at the vast castle gates, he stood out like a solitary wolf, his posture unyielding as the others kneeled and proclaimed their worship.
Who was this defiant figure?
Her unwavering stance had captured his attention, setting her apart from the others. Her courage to refrain from kneeling had drawn his gaze like a magnet.
As if sensing his scrutiny, she swiftly disappeared from her position. Despite his desire to pursue her, the presence of the multitude prevented him. Would fate reunite them in the future?
The king's entourage continued their procession while the offerings were presented to him. As they retreated to the Imperial hall, his grandfather remained behind, his role fulfilled.
The remaining ministers quickly responded. The kingdom had twenty-three ministers tasked with different duties.
Tomorrow, each minister would offer a gift as an act of worship. The highest-ranking minister would present an offering specifically for the king's spouse.
Despite having ample women in his palace harem, where he contentedly spent his time, the king was obligated to follow tradition and wed. He could marry again if desired, as it was customary.
As the ministers debated the coronation preparations, the king remained silent. He listened attentively, only interjecting when necessary to express approval or disapproval or to provide consent.
With the coronation behind them, the day drew to a close, and the palace fell into a peaceful silence.
- Writer
