The Prince's Throne

Sigvald sighed and let his head loll back against the plush throne. A good slave girl took up her que and gently poured wine into his openned mouth, even as she gasped and rode his fingers harder. He did love that, how the young ones were so full of energy. Speaking of, the elf between his legs was certainly earning her keep today. He chuckled to himself as he watched her perfect lips run up and down his perfect length.
He turned his attention elsewhere, looking about the throne room, strewn with scores of women. they roiled and writhed on their pillows, enjoying the taboo pleasures of each others company. Those few men among them, for indeed Sigvald's lust knew no bounds, showed plainly that they'd never have such a magnificent time for the rest of their lives. They all moved in such erotic unison, like a wave of flesh. the mirrored walls surrounding the grand room only served to amplify the effect, making it look like an endless sea of perverted pleasures.
"Fiend!"
the word cracked the atmosphere of moans like thunder. at once, everyone stopped their ministrations. Sigvald bent around the bodies atop him to stare at the doorway. There stood three men, all heavily armed. he couldnt repress the quizical look that warped his divine features.
"gentlemen," he called sensually from behind his women, "come, make yourselves merry. there's more than enough fun for everyone."
"Demon!" one of the intruders called. Sigvald couldnt tell which one, as he'd gone back to more important matters. "you took our daughters, defiled them! our sons you perverted! they're only shadows of themselves, thanks to your immoral devilry! Ensorcelled them, you did, you --"
"yes, that's all very interesting," The Prince of Pleasures finally spoke, detaching his lips from the pert breasts in front of him, "but did you have a point?"
a moments silence was held taught in the air, durring which Sigvald made sure to induce various verieties of groans in all the bared nymphs around him.
"you will pay," the men finally spoke up. "we will end this witchcraft at once, and take your damned blade as proof to our lord sovereign that you will not plague this world again!"
The Prince withdrew his fingers from their current affairs, dropping one hand down beside the throne to grasp the pommel damply. he held the blade up, careful to cut the nearest tit only enough to produce a moan. the blade was exquisite, crafted by the God of Dark Pleasures herself. Forged from her own skin.
He withdrew his other hand, and with it, pushed gently at the third girl atop him. the elf. she would be his again. with a quick flip of the cloth about his waist -- which did nothing to hide his manhood's prominence -- he stood.
"there's been a misunderstanding," he said calmly, walking slowly, sensually towards the men. as he moved, his slaves crawled beside him, purring and mewling with absolute need. "you seem to think that i've taken your wives, your sons and daughters. i've only set them free." he gestured to the multitude of animalistic perverts about them. "they stay because i accept them for who they are. i free them, and feed their need. i give them what they truly desire, in their heart of hearts, where no god or man can break them."
as he reached the men, each now shaking off a handful of women who clawed at their clothing and armor, he planted his sword in the ground. He looked the leader of these ruffians in the eye and carressed his cheek lovingly. his fingers still smelt of sex. he looked into the man's soul, deep inside. he smiled at last, and gently kissed the man. he felt the peasant's shock, but there was no retreat.
"i understand," he whispered against the man's chapped lips.
and with that he turned and strode back to his throne. the doors slammed shut, and the intruders were pulled down into the throng to be taken, driven mad by the infinity of pleasures they'd endure, or killed through their own perverted means. he smirked and drank a hefty gulp of wine. now, where was that elf?