Chapter 1 - Dethroned

Semir “Wrath-born” Tir, Guardian of Darkmoon Keep, Bringer of the Dark Sun, Slayer of the Ascended Hydra, Ancalagon… servant and “masseur” to the Emerald Queen. To receive such a demotion of rank, it was humiliating beyond all things. Tir was once his lady’s champion, an emissary of darkness and violence, a brute magically imbued with sadistic intelligence and inhuman strength. All it took was one mistake, albeit a big one, to be put so low. To serve the dark enchantress was to bring calamity to the world and lead legions of thralls to conflict, not polish her stilettos and paint nails. They were always green anyways.   
 
The imposing warrior stood silently beside the throne, his flickering green eyes lazily gazing from a blackened helm. When her highness wasn’t sitting on the throne he was left utterly alone, bored, tiredly scanning the dimly lit great hall. It left him plenty of time to question various concerns he had harbored for quite some time. Why couldn’t a fortress be somewhere warm and pleasant, it’s always a dank and dreary keep? Why was everything green and black? He understood that it was her favorite color, presumably, but everything? Really? His cursed glaive, Soul-Render, seemed increasingly heavy on days like this; time passed at an Asgarian snail’s pace. His lady had been gone for quite some time, and the great throne seemed so empty, and big. Why did she need a throne that big anyways? He was nearly 8’ tall and would still most likely be able to comfortably sit on it; a cold chill ran down his spine. Just once.
 
“Wrath-born” had slain all manner of beast and man: from peasant to hero, and goblin to dragon. Still, the idea of incurring the rancor of his beloved queen was a haunting prospect, as she was a powerful sorceress of unparallel power. With his own eyes he’d witnessed her transform men into fleas, enthrall legions of undead, and cause great natural cataclysms. The titan could feel his enormous cock swelling beneath the blackened codpiece; Semir was growing admittedly excited by his recounting of her exploits. As much as he loved her he knew she only “loved” one thing, domination; and as seductive as the enchantress was, her voluptuous figure barely veiled by silken robes, the warrior never knew of her to sexually gratify any man or woman. It made lusting after her forbidden; all the more reason to do so. 
 
Speaking of forbidden, the towering iron throne seemed increasingly enticing. Just a moments rest, before she returns of course. Semir approached, armor shifting slightly with each step. Finally, with great care and caution the great warrior slowly sat upon his queen’s regal seat. He looked over the vast hall, emerald flames flickering from the chandeliers above. Her legions of dread knights and undead had taken up another crusade against the mortals of the southern lands, but had they not these walls would be brimming with loyal servants. Now it was just he and the queen, minus the enslaved keep servants of course. 
 
The gothic architecture was stunning to be quite hones-
 
“What are you doing, Semir”? The voice was soft and calm, yet the dread knight could feel the very earth trembling beneath him. Semir slowly turned his head to the direction of her voice. She was standing right besides him, hand gently resting on his armored forearm. Unholy Light! The Emerald Matron’s eyes flickered with curiosity and authority, it was almost as if she herself had been shocked by this series of events. 
 
“You know I’m never far from the keep my love”, she ran her pale hands across the knight’s arm, “what could’ve possessed you to wrong me so”? It was as if she was truly disappointed, but he knew better, she felt nothing more than joy at the idea of dolling out punishment. Long raven hair cascaded down her back, the only thing concealing her pale body was a thin night gown. Green of course. Silver bracers adorned her forearms, bangles of a similar design accompanying them.
 
“My lady”, he shrunk into his armor, “please let me escort myself to the demon pits, a suitable punishment”. Anything would be better than her own chosen punishment. It was comical, a hulking knight of darkness cowering in the great throne, frightened by a seemingly fragile vixen. The queen’s eyes grew brighter. 
 
“I’m in no need of suggestions, Semir”, she grinned, “I know what I want”. She waved her hand, wisp of magic tracing her hand, and the green nightgown fell to the polished steps. Now exposed, the dark warrior examined her naked body in awe and confusion. Her pick nipples were swollen and hard, nearly twitching in excitement. The queen ran her soft right hand down her abdomen, red nails gliding along her pale skin. 
 
What? He would’ve moved, left the room, saved himself for whatever punishment that was about to follow, but as he attempted to dethrone every muscle in his body constricted in agonizing pain. 
 
“Don’t move, otherwise your muscles will contract until they break your bones Semir”, she spoke with concern, as if she was not the one paralyzing him. 
 
“It’s easy to rule a great kingdom alone, to acquire power and decimate life. But to create life, that is a miracle I have not yet perfected”, her eyes grew soft yet still flickered with dark magic, “as easy as it is, ruling alone can become quite tiresome”. She glanced towards her own stomach, rubbing it tenderly. 
 
“M-Me”? The Guardian of Darkmoon Keep was trying his hardest to even say that without shattering his own jaw. 
 
The Matron laughed, “Of course not, Semir you couldn’t even get me the right colored dress I ordered”; to the root of the problem. Goddammit it was one mistake! She said “green”, there are a lot of greens in the world to choose from. Plus he had traveled across land and sea to find the famed silk master, he wasn’t going back for another color! She moved to his other side, “As much as you have disappointed me it is undeniable that your seed is strong”. Her majesty gave him a quick examination, yes, he’d be suitable. With a flick of the wrist the armor around his waist was quickly deconstructed, removed for ease of access; with another she tore away the fabric underneath. 
 
The beast of a man’s cock jutted upward, thick veins protruding as his muscles constricted. “I thought you’d be bigger”, she teased while examining the 13” pole. In reality she was serious. Semir couldn’t tell whether his eyes were about to pop from the pressure or not, but what he was seeing he had to believe to be true. To feel those porcelain hands stroke his monstrous member would be a lovely way to go out; little did he know she had other intentions, and could sense his.
 
“Sully my hands”? She looked at him in amusement. “No”. A magical hand made of raw mana appeared between them, shimmering a translucent green. The magical hand reached towards his shaft, gently at first then securing a firm grip, and began to milk the dread knight with vigor. His lady bit her lower lip as she watched, amused by both his pain and her own new found pleasure; this was a new form of torture in some sense, and gratification in another. The specter-like hand twisted and tugged as it stretched the enormous cock, doing well to extract every drop of his dark seed; Semir could feel his spirit leaving his body in more ways than one. What a grand fate indeed. To know such pleasure was entirely unfamiliar to him, and regardless of the bone shattering pain, he felt at ease to serve his queen. 
 
“Not yet”, she spoke in a coy manner, “I’ll ease your pain my love, if it’ll help you”. She approached, and with both hands spread her perfect breast to sandwich his girth between them. The hand picked up its pace now just in front of her face. She smiled in anticipation and wonder, how many batches will this be? The cock throbbed against her bosom, twitching as it was handled in such an unholy manner; she would have her prize soon enough. The Emerald Matron opened her mouth, now slathering the enormous member with saliva; just to hurry things along of course. That said, she could feel her own womanhood growing warmer, her timeless body responding in an unfamiliar manner. Unbeknownst to her it craved the thick load that resided inside the great warrior’s loins, ready to bear children that would rule kingdoms and conquer men.
 
The titan felt a surge of energy and courage, it had all become too much by this point; he would find some glory in this ordeal. Snapping his wrist Semir lifted both of his arms, gripping his lady’s shoulders lightly, but just enough to keep her pressed against his cock. “What is the meaning of thi-“, she was interrupted as thick strings of spunk we’re released onto her tiny figure. Too in shock to move she simply stood still, letting the cum cover her round breast and sultry face. The disbelief quickly dissipated, and was replaced by a form of...gratitude? The queen ran her tongue along Semir’s manhood collecting a considerable amount of baby gravy in her mouth; red lipstick now smeared  across the shafts pulsing length. 
 
She took a step back, admiring her work. He would make a good donor indeed, good boy. Her eyes flickered with dark intent and lust, as there was no way that this would do; she would need a sample via a more “direct” approach. A wicked grin spread across her semen soaked face. They would be spending a great deal of time together from now on. 
 
The slayer of Ancalagon was nearly dead, his body broken and battered, but his mind racing in ecstasy. Had he known this would be the punishment, he have brought her a lime dress a long time ago.