Eh

The marriage would be short and sweet, binding our kingdoms together, and I’d wonder if that was it, maybe a little disappointed it wasn’t more. Up until I’m brought to the throne room instead of our shared room afterwards.

At least a hundred orcs would be inside, watching me as I made my way up to the king, my new husband. There would only be one throne, and when I asked where I’m to sit, he’d tell me my seat is on his lap.

I’d understand, then, what he intended to do. And I’d surprise us both when I sink down on his lap, rubbing against his cock, which has already started to harden at the sight of me.

He’d strip me of my wedding clothes by ripping them off me, promising he can get it replaced, he needs to see and touch me now.

He’d flip me around and spread my legs so everyone can see how much I want him, press his thick fingers into me and let my moans echo through the room.

He wouldn’t waste much time with his fingers—we both know what the crowd really wants to see. Still, he’d finger me till I’m shaking with my release, gasping and pleading for more, and he'd give it to me.

With big hands, he’d spin me around and position me over his throne, easily bending me over and holding me in place to push into me.

He’d start off slow, taking his time, but quickly deciding to speed it up when I moan loud at a rough thrust. He’d fuck me hard, laughing when I rocked back against him, desperate for more.

When he’d remind me of our audience, that our subjects are watching him defile me over his throne, I’d gasp, but he wouldn’t let me hide, instead pulling out of me to settle in the throne and pull me down into his lap, sinking me back onto his cock, letting them all watch as he uses me like I’m nothing more than a toy.

Little doodle of the PRINCE of the cryptids, MOTHMAN!