The Queen (Size Theft)

Story by MrGreyMan

The Queen was coming.

Looking into the mirror he shaved his youthful face, but he was distracted by that thought. His busty blonde betrothed looked adoringly at him from the oversized doorway as the razor scraped across his handsome face. This was the last day his sexy bride would be a maiden. At eighteen years of age, today they would be wed.

Wiping his chiseled face he went to his betrothed and stared into her blue eyes. Then, with firm tenderness he held her to his chest. Her lithe frame seemed to fit perfectly into his, as if they were one being. Together, they just breathed. They knew they needed to savor this time together. Earlier, she had promised to be forever his. Vainly, he wished it could be true. After a few moments, he clasped her slim shoulder and held her away from himself so he could fully view her physique. She looked back with nothing but admiration in her large bright eyes, as if pledging again with her gaze to be faithful forever, body and soul. With something akin to a shutter he again desperately pressed her against his muscular chest in an unyielding embrace.

As they held each other, he looked at his intended’s ponytails and heart shaped butt in the mirror on the wall, knowing this would be last time she could show him such innocence. After tonight, she would never be like this again; he knew this in his soul. The Queen would soon be here to claim her tithe and her jus primae noctis. Finally, the two tore themselves from one another.

His leggy bouncing bride finished tidying their cozy home with its enormous door, as he buttoned his shirt, which only barely contained his muscular chest. Sighing, the two waited at the door to greet their illustrious guest. As the clock neared twelve, they could feel the Queen approaching. Her majesty could not be hidden. Her presence came in stages. The husband-to-be opened the vast door to their house in anticipation. It, like all doors in the Kingdom, had to be built disproportionately large. The Queen would not be denied entry anywhere, and any door that could not accommodate her regality would not long exist. The soon-to-be newlyweds back away from the capacious portal. Holding hands, their hearts fluttered with young love and apprehension. The Queen could be seen coming miles away, but they wanted to great her properly and not prematurely. Nervously, they glanced at the clock; almost time. The Queen was never late when collecting what was owed her. She would come alone, no entourage was necessary. She could not be harmed and no one would wish to try. All were the Queen’s willing servants and followers; she didn’t need to bring extra as she made her rounds.

As the well-oiled clock started to strike twelve, the Queen’s angelic immensity squeezed through the huge open door. The two intended fell to their knees in utter acquiescence, abasing themselves before this unopposed and imposing ruler. It is not that the Queen demanded such actions, it was simply that in her presence only prostration and servitude could be expressed. The Queen was a statue of superiority carved out of metaphorical marble. She was magnanimity made manifest. Her substantial supremacy supplanting all.

The Queen loomed over the two betrothed as they groveled in her glory. She was massive in every conceivable way, easily overcrowding the room with her surplus splendor. The Queen’s pale physique was as smooth and glittering as cut glass. Her only adornment was two long translucent bejeweled sleeves ending in one opulent finger-ring on each of her sophisticated hands. Her gravity-defying immeasurable breasts moved in hypnotizing ways as they bulged before her, swelling with each of the Queen’s heavenly breaths. Her long, dexterous, and powerful legs made up much of her heroic height and multiplied the Queen’s regality. Below her porcelain shoulders and beneath her lucid sleeves, her ultrafeminine arms betrayed undreamt of force. Her rock-hard waist seemed outlandishly thin compared to her flaring hips, which the Queen’s bulging butt in turn eclipsed.

Under the Queen’s flawlessly smooth skin her muscle writhed with each of her fluid movements. Her eyes shown with untempered charisma and the Queen’s voluminous hair was a fiery halo wreathing her peerless face. Her countenance was predominant perfection. The Queen’s very presence seemed to warp reality around her, as if the gravity of such authority couldn’t be contained.

While she was known as “the Queen,” unlike lesser beings the Queen was complete, having both female and male parts. Like the rest of her boundless being, her cock was no less sizable. Its girthy circumference and inhuman length stood loftily before her, menacing the powerless pair crouching on the floor as a towering harbinger of the Queen’s magnificence. Soon, the Queen would use this meaty monolith to claim jus primae noctis with his maiden fiancée. B

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