Deleted Monster King scene from Chapter 1

 

 

 

Trigger Warnings:

Dubcon, gratuitous gore/necrophilia

 

Excerpt taken out of the middle of Chapter 1

 

The next week, a woman was brought to the King—the daughter of a lord. Pale white skin. Bright blonde hair. Cold blue eyes. 

She wore white silk and acted as if she was a queen. “You are lucky to play me, your majesty.”

“Am I?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I am known to be the smartest woman that ever lived.”

“Hmmm.”

She sat down in front of him. “We shall play the Serpent’s Path. Do you know it, your majesty?”

“I have read the rules, but this will be the first time I play it.”

“Please, do not be sad when you lose.”

The Royal Court gasped.

The King grinned, enjoying the challenge.

This board was different than any he’d seen before. 

“This is a game from the southern deserts.” She smirked.

The King looked down at the board.

Glass stones were carved like fangs and surrounded a serpent.

“Whoever corners the opponent’s serpent first, wins.” She quirked her brows. “Are you ready, your majesty?”

“I am.”

The game began.

Her fingers were graceful on the stones, sliding them across the spiral with precision. She moved with confidence, her cold blue eyes tracking every shift on the board.

The King watched her carefully.

She was clever, yes. But there was something else—something in the way her hand lingered over certain stones, in the way her sleeve brushed the board just so.

There.

A flicker of movement. Her pale fingers danced across a glass fang, and when her hand lifted, two stones had switched positions instead of one.

Sleight of hand.

The Monster King's jaw tightened. His claws dug into the armrest of his throne, gouging deep lines into the bone.

Around him, the court held their breath, sensing the shift in the air—the way the shadows seemed to press closer, the way the candles dimmed.

She thought she was being clever.

She thought he hadn't noticed.

The woman smiled, leaning back in her chair as though victory was already hers. "You are struggling, your majesty. Perhaps you need more time to think?"

The King’s black eyes fixed on her, and for a moment, the temperature in the room dropped. "I have all the time I need."

He moved a stone.

Then another.

His moves were deliberate now, methodical, each one exposing the flaws in her strategy. He didn't call out her cheating. Didn't accuse her. He simply played.

And with every move, he unraveled her.

Her smile faltered.

She reached for another stone, her fingers trembling slightly, and this time when her hand hovered—ready to cheat again—Kaelith's tail lashed forward.

The spiked tip slammed into the table beside her wrist, cracking the obsidian surface.

She froze.

"Move that stone fairly," he said softly, his voice a low growl that made the courtiers flinch, "or I will remove your hand and use your fingers as game pieces."

Her face went white. She moved the stone—only the stone—her sleight of hand abandoned.

But it was too late.

Kaelith pushed his pieces forward, one after another, closing the spiral with ruthless precision.

He didn't need tricks.

Didn't need deception.

He saw the board the way a god saw fate—every path, every outcome, every move she would make before she even thought to make it.

Her serpent twisted.

Cornered.

Trapped.

The King bared his fangs. “I have won.”

The woman stared at the board, and her cold blue eyes went wide with disbelief. "How—?"

Because I didn't cheat." He leaned forward, his massive frame looming over her. 

His voice dropped to a purr, dangerous and soft. "And you, little liar, are not as clever as you think."

Her lips parted as though to deny it, but he was already moving. He rose from the throne, towering, shadows curling behind him like a cloak alive. His hand caught her throat, not to strangle yet, but to hold, to own.

The bulge at his groin twitched, swollen and merciless, straining the last threads of restraint. He could smell her pussy. Although she was terrified, she’d also gone slick with need.

“So clever.” Behind him, his tail uncoiled. The barb folded away, turning the tip into a velvet-hard curve that slid around her thigh.

She shivered and put her gaze on his tail. “Your majesty. . .I did not cheat.”

“You did.” Fast, his tail wrapped around her waist and turned her body around in one clean pivot.

She faced the obsidian board. “But—”

“No.” He bent her over the obsidian board with his clawed hands.

Glass stones scattered.

Heat rolled from him in a treacherous wave.

With his free hand, he undid his pants and freed his big heavy cock. Some of the women within the court leaned forward, aroused and curious.

Many of the men gasped or looked away.

Soon, his cock pressed against the woman, big, thick, and hard, a weapon as much as his claws. His voice grew low, almost tender. “Do you know what I do with clever prey?”

“N-no, your majesty.” Tears sliding down her cheeks.

“I fuck it until it forgets it was clever.” His claws trashed at her dress.

The straps of her dress fell away. All of that white silk spilled to the floor.

The court inhaled as one creature.

He fisted that silky hair as his tail tightened her stance.

“Are you ready to be fucked by the King?” He growled.

“Y-yes, your majesty.”

“Are you ready for my court to see how much you are a clever little whore?”

“Y-yes, your majesty.”

When he thrust, he did so with the brutal weight of his cock, filling her in one relentless stroke. Her cry rang up into the balconies.

The sound of her pussy taking him was wet and obscene.

He drove into her hard, hips slamming.

A beastly groan left him.

His claws dug into her sides as her sobs broke into moans.

“You’ll hate this and like this, my little whore.” Towering, he bent over her and grazed her shoulder with his fangs. His growl dragged over her pulse.

“You’ll beg for death as you come.” His free hand palmed her breast, squeezing the nipple before sliding down, to tease the peak of her clit with his claw.

“Oh!” she screamed.

The court leaned closer. Silk rustled. Whispers turned into muffled groans. They could all see how her body gushed, how the slick heat of her pussy ran down her thighs to mark the black board.

“So much confidence.” The King snarled and set a harsher tempo, his cock pounding her open with measured cruelty. “Yet you’re nothing but a vessel for my cock.”

“Yes,” she sobbed.

He continued to take her, right in front of the Royal Court.

Brutal.

Unrelenting.

Each thrust was a claim.

Each moan dragged from her throat as involuntary as the gasp of a dying soldier.

Her body arched, wracked by waves of ecstasy that blurred into pain.

“Do you like this, whore?”

“Y-yes,” She moaned as his thrusts began to drive her into delirium. His heat, his weight, the monstrous girth pounding inside her—it was everything, it was all she wanted.

For a time.

Then the edges sharpened.

What had been pleasure began to feel jagged.

And her cries broke into ragged screams caught between rapture and fear, echoing like shattered glass. “Ow! Ow! Ow!”

“Yes. Take it, my clever little whore. Take all of me.” The King groaned deeper. “Your suffering feeds me.”

Crimson beads welled where his clawed grip tightened.

She screamed, “Ahhh!!”

“Oh yes.” The King licked his lips with that purple tongue. “Now we’re beginning to have fun.”

His rhythm turned savage.

His thrusts grew more violent.

His cock went deeper than any mortal man could.

“NOOOO!!!” She felt the tearing as though her soul itself were splitting apart.

“Mmmm.” The King grunted.

“AHHH!!” Her scream rose into a shriek, and her body convulsed beneath him.

Her thighs became slicker too, not just from wet desire but from the tearing bloom of pain. Blood dripped down her legs as his cock began to split her pussy more.

“AHHH! HELP ME!”

More blood spilled fast now, staining the floor in obscene patterns.

“HELP ME!” She clawed at the board, trying to break free from the King’s grip. “H-HELP!!”

“No. No. Clever one.” He kept thrusting his cock deeper into her pussy, shoving his bulbous mushroomed tip well past her cervix. “Take it all.”

The Royal Court only watched.

None dared to intervene.

And still he fucked her.

Still he used her, breaking body.

His groans came harder, throat thick with hunger, every thrust making the wound worse.

Flesh split.

Blood pulsed.

The air reeked of iron.

“AHHH!!!” Her eyes rolled white, her nails snapped against stone. She could no longer tell if she was moaning or screaming.

Her body was now the King’s altar, and he was the god tearing sacrifice from her living frame.

“Mmmm.” He began to further pound merciless into that torn, ripped pussy, chasing a brutal primal release.

And her screams faltered into silence.

Her heart no longer beat.

Her breaths no longer came.

Blood pooled beneath her, steaming in the cold air.

Groaning, his grip on the corpse tightened. “So close.”

His cock slipped in and out of the torn pussy.

Wet, squelching sounds echoed in the room.

A few courtiers gagged. Some in the Court turned away, while others watched in horrified awe and arousal.

And still his monstrous cock throbbed inside her, pumping and aching soaking in the bloody ruin he had made and fucking the corpse until finally came.

A beastly groan left him.

His body shuddered with a monstrous wave of pleasure, yet a shiver of repulsion crawled up his spine too as he pressed his cock further into the cold, lifeless shell beneath him.

He licked his lips as he spilled thick, white cum into her.

All the while, the court watched, their faces masks of horror and fascination, their eyes glued to the atrocity before them.

He withdrew his big cock slowly, thick and glistening, the monstrous weight of him still twitching with satisfaction.

With the separation, her limp body rolled off the obsidian board and dropped to the floor.

There was a collective intake of breath through the Court.

The King straightened and stepped back from the board and the corpse. His tail coiled behind him.

The silence after her death was heavier than the screams and moans had been.

Blood steamed against the cold marble, seeping in ribbons that traced the cracks of the floor. Her broken body lay spread in ruin, yet no one dared touch her.

Without putting his cock back into his pants, he went back to his throne and sat down.

At once, his servants rushed forward, skirts brushing the blood. They carried bowls of steaming water and cloths. Their hands trembled as they knelt in front of him, yet their movements were practiced.

One woman pressed cloth to his thighs, careful, reverent.

Another slid trembling fingers along the huge, thick length of his cock, wiping away the cum and blood. Her breath shuddered as she avoided his gaze.

They worked slowly, and the King got comfortable, parting his big legs and draping his claws lazily over the armrests.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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