The King and the Spirit

The hooves of the white steed kicked up storms of dust in their wake as she carried the valiant King toward his fateful encounter with the Spirit. Thunderous sounds and a moist breeze announced the arrival of the moment. The King could feel his mare tremble as she negotiated the final bend. The stunning sight left him breathless. Before him, an ocean of water hurtled down at a fierce pace from a source concealed behind a veneer of mist and clouds. Dismounting his mare, he approached the waterfall with tremulous steps.

The mare raised her forelegs and began to neigh, puzzling the King, when a female voice spoke.

“What brings you here, King Agnes?”

The King gave a start. “Who speaks?”

“I am Swati, the Spirit of these waters.”

Astounded about the prospect of a duel with a woman, the King answered, "I've come for you, O Swati. Drought ravages my kingdom, Mytia. The rains have failed. Hundreds die daily because of starvation."

Bestowed with the strength of an elephant and the heart of a lion, tales of Agnes’ valor made him the object of worship of many a fair maiden. Accustomed to the admiration of womenfolk, the King felt perplexed when his belligerence disappeared on hearing the Spirit's dulcet voice. He genuflected and prayed, “The dry river beds in Mytia are a testimony to those ancient times when your waters blessed us. I entreat you to accompany me."

"I changed my course to punish your people when they started disrespecting women."

“That is but our shameful past. I have restored women the glory they truly deserve. If I mislead, take my life by all means."

“Rise, O King."

When Agnes raised his head, he beheld an embodiment of feminine perfection and purity. Golden hair cascaded over the swell of her breasts and reached until her waist. Atop her head rested a crown of marigolds. A girdle of jasmines shielded the jewel between her thighs. A celestial luminescence emanated from her milky white being.

King Agnes rose to his feet in a trance and went near the Spirit that he sought to conquer. For centuries, many brave souls had tried. Not one had returned alive. Smitten, he reached out for her.

"No!" she shrieked, but Agnes had already touched her.

Astonishment marked her features. She stretched her hands and felt his jacket. It tore open, and she gasped to see the symmetric birth marks on his arms and shoulders. With a wondrous expression in her blue eyes, she bowed filling Agnes with bewilderment.

She grazed his barreled chest with her nail. "Instant death awaits any man that touches me, but you're the Chosen one. These are the marks of the water God, Hydros." Framing his chiseled face in her hands, she gazed into her eyes. "You're destined to be my Lord."

Amazed with her words, Agnes folded his powerful arms around her. She raised her head, and he kissed her deeply. He caressed her face and touched her hair, the sensations making his skin tingle with desire. Slowly, his hands moved down her shoulders and roamed over her bare back. They traced the contours of her hips and drew her closer as his throbbing manhood grinded against her belly through his breeches.

Her mouth tasted like honey and her hair smelled of fragrant flowers. The thunderous sounds of the waterfall lulled into a melodious music, echoing, perhaps, the pleasure of their mistress. Releasing her from his grasp, Agnes shed the remainder of his raiments. Shyly, she grasped his engorged tool, making him shudder. He brushed aside her hair and exposed her creamy breasts. Cupping one soft orb in his hands, he lowered his mouth and sucked and nibbled upon the puckered bud. Reveling in the sound of her moans, he enjoyed both her rounded jewels by turn, while she pumped his arousal.

They lay down next to the stream. She spread her legs, and he positioned himself between them. Grasping the base of his shaft, he inserted its swollen head inside her. Feeling the barrier of her hymen, he thrust with greater pressure. His heart overwhelmed with tenderness when her innocence yielded, and her face contorted with agony.

He continued to burrow her deeper, watching the pain on her face transform to delight. Rotating his pelvis, he stretched her folds to the hilt while the base of his penis rubbed her clit. Her copiously lubricated vaginal muscles collapsed upon his member like a velvety vise. The exquisite friction of her clutch released all his floodgates, and he spilled his virile milk into her womb. Gratified, Agnes pressed against her soft curves while she clawed his back. Immediately, her body tensed and she scaled the heights of fulfillment.

Unmindful of the passage of time, Agnes clung to his lover's soft body, unwilling to release her even for a moment. The musky smell of her sex thrilled his senses. The opaque traces of semen and virginal blood on his groin cocooned his mind with happiness. "Please be my Queen, Swati. Let's rule together."

She kissed him. "I shall always be by your side, my Lord. The dry river beds of Mytia will once again bubble with life."

Word Count: 866