Blood Emperor Throne

Page 65

"Even if you have that kind of perverse taste, it's up to you to have me, the head maid, wearing a pair of crystal high heels filled with your thick white semen, handling state affairs for the Countess and the young lady."

No one knew about the deal she, the head maid in white silk, made with the knight commander Asmodie in the storeroom late at night.

The next day, the maid who was cleaning the storeroom discovered a crumpled white silk apron scattered in a pool of ripe female nectar, a pair of pure white and red strappy stilettos filled with thick, sticky white fluid scattered in the white filth, and the sweet, ripe honey scent that permeated the storeroom.

Since that day, every morning while the other maids were preparing for the castle's morning routine, this elegant and beautiful head maid in white silk would kneel under Asmoder's desk, cupping her two soft, smooth, milky breasts around the beast, her graceful head rising and falling, using her milky breasts and sweet lips and tongue to attend to this man's morning needs.

At lunchtime, while she served the Countess and Catherine their meal, the mother and daughter were completely unaware that in the kitchen just a wall away, this head maid, with a disdainful and arrogant expression, slightly parted her plump, soft, white-stockinged legs, revealing her fragrant, smooth, white-stockinged buttocks.

She allowed the man's large hands to freely knead her smooth, soft, white-silk-clad buttocks, and to drive his ferocious, thick beast to squeeze between her sweet, creamy white-silk-clad buttocks, which were covered by a thin, sheer white pantyhose, violating the white-silk-clad honeyed core of this gentle maid.

After the Countess and Catherine finished lunch, she would walk gracefully out of the kitchen again. However, under the hem of her apron, which the mother and daughter could not see, her soft, plump, white-stockinged buttocks were already filled with thick, sticky white fluid by this man.

In the evening, after enjoying the seductive flesh of the Countess and her daughter, and the seductive flesh of the noblewoman, in Asmodée, she would wear a cool, bare white maid's dress that reached her hips, her soft, jade-like legs wrapped in white lace-trimmed stockings that resembled a wedding dress, and her fragrant white stockings hooked onto transparent crystal pointed ankle-strap suspender shoes, as she walked gracefully into Asmodée's room.

Her elegant and graceful head maid, dressed in a white silk gown resembling that of a newlywed bride, would step onto Asmody's bedside in a white silk gown with a bridal-style waist-length halter-neck design, her crystal high-heeled shoes catching the eye. She would look down at the man with an arrogant and disdainful air, and with her white silk gown-clad hands wearing lace gloves, she would slowly lift the hem of her white silk gown.

The soft, plump vulva dripping with sticky nectar, and the tender, moist stamen about to be freely violated and filled by this man, were all exposed to the man's overwhelming gaze.

For the rest of the night, she maintained this haughty and disdainful demeanor, lifting her skirt to reveal her soft, plump vulva and tender clitoris, raising her white-stockinged, crystal-heeled feet to step on Asmodie's ferocious beast.

She arrogantly punished the man's savagery with her delicate, soft white silk-clad feet and pointed, shallow crystal heels, until he filled her transparent, pointed, shallow crystal heels with his thick, sticky semen.

And she would slip her soft, fragrant, milk-cake-like white silk-stockinged feet into those crystal high heels filled with thick white fluid, then, with an arrogant air, press her two soft, ripe, and fragrant buttocks, clad in white silk-stockinged suspenders, against Asmodie's hard and firm waist, while her beautiful white silk-stockinged hands supported that ferocious and massive beast.

After collapsing her voluptuous waist and offering her fragrant breasts and honeyed lips, she willingly lowered her white silk-clad, soft buttocks, allowing this thick, menacing phallus to spread open her tender, smooth honeyed core, so that she could ride him and let this man freely enjoy the honeyed flesh of her soft breasts and buttocks.

This daily routine has continued since Asmodeus unified Castellía and moved into the castle.

In other words, this still virgin head maid in white silk stockings was violated by this man far more times than the maids who were taken advantage of by Asmodie every day.

After days of repeated assaults, she could no longer distinguish whether her mature, soft, and yielding flesh was part of a deal to help the Countess with this man, or whether she had become somewhat infatuated with this steady and reliable man.

Castella has witnessed the changes in herself these past few days.

It can be said that without this man's assistance to Castella, Castella would have already become a subordinate territory of the Earl of Dorne, and the Countess and Catherine, whom she respected, would have become slave women, mother and daughter, wantonly ravaged and humiliated by that fat nobleman.

As for her, the elegant and beautiful head maid in white silk, and the other maids in the castle, they would naturally be treated as playthings by this greedy and lewd fat pig nobleman. After he was tired of playing with them, they would be thrown into brothels to be humiliated and violated at will, or given to his knights to serve as military prostitutes, where they would be enjoyed by those dirty and barbaric men every day.

Compared to this tragic fate, Asmodie, a steady and reliable man, always kept his promises and commitments to her. Although he was savage and passionate, he was not a brutal and tyrannical beast. On the contrary, he could even be described as gentle when dealing with his female slaves.

At least, Rowling knew the moral character of the nobles in the Carolant Empire well; when they treated women who had become slaves, they basically used them as sex toys to be used at will, or even as bargaining chips to appease their subordinates.

But... that's what they say.

As she listened to the seductive, soft cries of spring in the listener's ears, Rowling's disdain and arrogance deepened, tinged with a subtle, indescribable allure. (The last two lines are a series of seemingly unrelated characters and are left untranslated.)

This man has far too many female slaves around him.

From the initial Purple Nightingale Knights to the current Dawn Princess Knights and Platinum Rose Princess Knights, the number of maids in the castle has increased daily, and the number of noblewomen has grown even more. Even this charming and alluring duchess has become his female slave.

This displeased the head maid, who always held the initiative, and she snorted coldly, carrying her tea and snack tray towards the open lawn where the seductive spring cries were coming from.

"Eeoh oh oh?~~ Going?~~ Going to become a slave noblewoman?~~~ Ee ee ee?~~ Me, the wife of the Grand Duke of Bordeaux?~~ Going to be with a man other than my husband?~~ Gurgle umm umm umm?~~~"

On the open lawn, the charming, elegant, and sophisticated Duchess now resembled a glamorous lady enjoying afternoon tea, as if Asmodée, this barbaric bandit, had broken in and forcibly violated her.

The Duchess's plump, mature body, with its ample breasts and round buttocks, was pressed down by Asmodie's body, which was as hard as a marble sculpture. Asmodie lifted one of her plump, voluptuous legs, which was covered in glossy black stockings, and positioned it in an extremely assertive, defensive posture, allowing Asmodie to violate her at will.

Her plump, fleshy, and soft legs, clad in glossy black stockings, were stretched out, one held down by Asmodeus, the other hoisted high over his shoulder. Her beautiful, smooth black stockings could only softly hook onto his pair of elegant and seductive black and red-soled spaghetti strap pointed-toe high-heeled shoes, draped over Asmodeus's shoulder, swaying lazily with the man's extremely forceful thrusts.

From this angle, the white-stockinged head maid, Lorraine, who had stepped into the room, could clearly see how that ferocious, burly beast repeatedly forced open the Duchess's two plump, ripe and juicy vulva exposed outside her black pantyhose, violating the Duchess of Bordeaux's wife until her nectar flowed like a bursting spring, completely transforming into the grotesque shape of a beast.

The Duchess at this moment is less the charming, noble, and mature wife of the Grand Duke of Bordeaux, and more the mature noblewoman having an affair with the knight commander under her command. She is being violated by this tall and strong knight commander until her clear, bright eyes are rolling upwards with hearts, and her soft, sweet tongue is half-protruding.

Those two soft, plump, and fragrant breasts were violated by Asmody's rough and ravaging, causing them to sway up and down and create ripples like creamy spring honey. Asmody's large hands then grasped and kneaded them as if kneading milk cakes, his fingertips sinking deep into the smooth and soft flesh.

"Gurgle...no...I can't take it anymore?...I'm going to be...dispossessed by a man other than my husband?...Dispossessed in front of the maid?...Eee ...

As her seductive cries grew louder and more alluring, this noble and charming duchess, in front of Rowling, was violated by Asmodie until she gave birth. Her oily black stockings trembled and dripped with nectar, and her pair of clear, spring-like eyes, filled with a hazy, peach-colored heart, kept rolling upwards.

"Boom——"

"Ee-hmm?~~"

With a soft pop, Asmodie ended her afternoon tea, put on the white shirt handed to her by the maid, and met the head maid's clear, deep eyes, which held a hint of disdain and strange emotions.

A moment later, after recovering from their honeyed bliss, the Countess and Duchess glanced at Asmodie with their alluring eyes, still brimming with languid sweetness, and then, with languid and elegant steps, headed to the banquet hall to prepare for tonight's dinner.

Meanwhile, the elegant and graceful head maid, Lorraine, in her white silk dress, led Asmodie on a leisurely stroll through the garden, gradually leading her deeper into the garden for an afternoon rest.

Chapter 116 White Stockings and Crystal High Heels (First Update, 4k words)

The garden, fragrant like orchids, was exceptionally tranquil.

Asmodelle picked up her teacup, took a sip, and glanced down at the city below.

After a period of conquest and expansion, Castella's capital castle has grown from a small stone-built castle that could be breached by a minotaur leading a herd of horned beasts to a large city that can now accommodate three thousand people.

The original castle of Castellaia's capital had an outer wall made of stone bricks and barbed wooden stakes. It relied solely on wooden arrow towers for sentry duty and ranged firepower. It could only defend against ordinary beastmen attacks. It was barely able to defend against siege equipment, but it would crumble at the first touch if it encountered heavy siege firepower such as catapults and behemoths.

The city walls were easily breached by a single minotaur; if they were to encounter a behemoth like a minotaur, they would likely crumble at the slightest touch.

At present, the city of Castella has not only expanded outwards by dozens of times, but even the city walls have been transformed from simple brick walls into walls made of limestone and adhesive mud after he hired nearly twenty stonemasons from the Earl of Dorne and spent two months on the project.

This city wall is about five meters high, with enough space for three people to walk side by side on top. It is equipped with crenellations and arrow slits, and a dwarf craftsman from the Dwarf Mountain was hired to design hinged iron lattice gates and hanging gates. The moat has not yet been dug, but the barbed wooden stakes and chevaux-de-frise piled up at the base of the city wall are enough to deal with a sudden beast tide.

Inside the city, an inner wall was erected around the towering castle, allowing the castle to overlook the entire city and serve as a sentry post.

With the protection of this city wall and the trade routes between the four territories, the number of civilians settling in the city has been increasing day by day, and the capital city alone has almost reached two thousand people.

With this capital castle as its base, and with the surrounding beastmen all eliminated, the castle, which was originally the front line against the beast tide, is now surrounded by groups of farmers who clear the land and develop 5,000 acres of fertile farmland around it.

The wheat in the fields has gradually sprouted, and the lush green scenery of the woods, the farmers driving their oxen to clear the land, and the green sea of ​​wheat swaying in the breeze as the leaves rustle through the trees, suddenly evoke a medieval pastoral atmosphere in Asmodée.

Under the scorching sun, a cool breeze ripples across the wheat fields, the windmills turn with a soft clatter, and the occasional bleating of oxen plowing the fields creates a idyllic scene.

Castles, wheat fields, knights, noblewomen, lords, swords and magic—it's just like the vividly depicted medieval windmills of my previous life.

However, the difference is that the farmers who cleared the land in those medieval farmlands did not have such an easy life. The church's tithes, coupled with the lord's harsh miscellaneous taxes, almost made these farmers unable to lift their heads while they were busy cultivating the fields every day, and they could only get a little bit of food that was barely enough to survive.

Castells now only retains tithes and basic taxes, abolishing a large number of harsh miscellaneous taxes. Coupled with a stable security and business environment, even the poorest farmers living in the wheat fields can obtain a full and warm harvest.

Not having to worry about the next meal, not having to eat raw, sawdust-covered black bread, and not having to fear being punished by the lord's tax team for failing to pay taxes and having their land and houses confiscated—this was already considered a luxury throughout the entire Carolant Empire.

Or rather, this kind of life, living in the medieval or even ancient dynasties of the past, could be considered a luxury for farmers at the bottom of society.

but……

Asmodé turned his gaze elsewhere. About two kilometers outside the capital of Castellania, a solemn and majestic stone church stood tall.

Around the church, a shallow river flows slowly, and nearly a thousand acres of fertile farmland have been cultivated on both sides of the river. However, although the wheat in these farmlands has begun to sprout ears, its growth is uneven and disorderly, overgrown with weeds, and large areas of farmland have even fallen into a state of desolation.

In contrast, the fields around the capital of Castellía are not only neatly tended with wheat, but also cleared of weeds daily. The fields are arranged in an orderly fashion without any disorder, and are managed with great care by the farmers.

The stark contrast between the church-controlled farmland and the farmland cultivated by farmers clearly demonstrates the church's utter lack of interest in tending these worthless fields.

After all, even if they did not engage in farming, these lowly commoner farmers still had to pay tithes for them. So why bother hiring tenant farmers to manage the fields?

As for opening up farmland to farmers, that was utterly absurd to those greedy priests, who, like the nobles, would rather let the land and resources rot in their own hands than open them up to farmers.

The church in this world is no different from the church in the previous world.

The difference is that the church in the previous life had limited military power and relied entirely on the influence of secular faith and the spontaneous response of believers. In contrast, the church in this world truly controls the powerful Templar Knights and Dragon Knights, capable of flattening a duchy, as well as the use of divine magic.

In contrast, the church in this world, having gained control of powerful military force, discourse, and divine arts, is far more greedy and depraved than the church in the previous world. It has continuously monopolized the dissemination of knowledge and divine arts, and has even used the name of faith to carry out heretical punishments.

Anyone who was branded a heretic by them either fled into the deadly Ankar Forest and the Northern Ice Plains, or was burned at the stake.

The determination of heresy is entirely up to the bishops, which means that if a bishop deems you a heretic, then you are.

After this banquet, we can first go to this church to take a look, and while we're at it, carry out our plan to corrupt the nun.

He remembered that, at Countess Osalia's request, the church was usually maintained by a gentle and intellectual nun in black stockings, three fighting nuns, and a bishop with five monks.

Starting with these four nuns, it would be feasible to carry out a plan to erode the church.

"In two more months, the wheat in the fields should be ripe." Rowling bent her slender waist slightly and added two sugar cubes to the black tea in Asmodio's cup, her soft voice very calm.

"However, judging from the current situation, the number of civilians gathering outside Castella City will continue to increase, and it is unknown whether the land of Castella can support so many people."

Since news of Castellia's low taxes, mild policies, stable security, absence of beast tides, and lack of exploitation by nobles spread among the merchants, the number of commoners and merchants gathering there has increased daily.

Among these people, a considerable number were refugees who had been oppressed to the point of starvation by lords and nobles and came here with their families to settle down. Some gathered in the more prosperous Earldom of Dorne, while many more settled in the villages surrounding the capital castle and cultivated the land.

This impact has both positive and negative aspects. The positive aspect is the continued growth of Castella's population, which is an excellent thing for any territory, because population represents tax revenue, labor force, the territory's war potential, and the territory's potential for resource and land development. No lord would complain about that.

However, there are also downsides, such as security issues brought about by population migration.

The refugees who gathered here were of very different backgrounds. Most of them were farmers who could not survive and migrant civilians. Some were scoundrels and scoundrels, while others were spies planted by the lords of the encirclement network.

However, Asmodie didn't need to worry about these things. After all, the fleshhounds had an extremely keen sense of smell. These thugs who disturbed the peace and order, as well as the spies and scouts planted by the lords and nobles, silently became food for the fleshhounds.

"After the wheat harvest, beans can be planted. After the newly reclaimed land is plowed, winter wheat can be planted, and the land can be left fallow the following year." Asmodé took a sip of black tea. It was smooth and warm, but it lacked some of the sweet and creamy aroma, yet it was still fragrant and sweet.

Indeed, at this moment, Countess Osalia and Duchess Orissa had returned to the banquet hall to prepare for the allure dinner that evening, but there was no one left to continue feeding him milk.

"Your three-field system is indeed a novel farming method," Rowling said casually, glancing at the warm black tea in Asmodie's cup with her cool, intellectual, emerald-green eyes.

"Dividing the farmland into three plots, one for wheat, one for beans, and one for fallow, and rotating them annually, is a farming method that no other lord in the empire has ever used."

"However... this farming method should greatly help improve the harvest."

Rowling set out the black tea, seemingly unaware of her own plump, voluptuous body, clad only in a cool, hazy white lace apron. With her back to Asmodie, she bent slightly, her slender waist wrapped in sheer white stockings reaching her waist, and gently lifted her soft, fragrant buttocks, resembling ripe peaches, while brewing tea on the tea cart behind her, speaking softly.

“I have seen many lords and nobles who, for the sake of a good harvest, disregard the harvest season of the land and plant crops to the maximum extent every year, causing the fertility to decrease year by year, resulting in a situation where the harvest is halved in the end, yet they still impose the same tax burden on the farmers.”

The elegant and graceful head maid in white silk seemed completely oblivious to Asmodian's teasing and passionate gaze, which followed her plump, fair back down to her soft, creamy, white-silk-clad buttocks.

It was as if Asmody was allowing himself to embrace her soft, white-stockinged buttocks from behind and violate her at will. She slightly straightened her plump, fleshy legs in white stockings, and tremblingly raised her two soft, creamy, and fragrant buttocks.

The white silk-clad vulva, exuding the fragrance of ripe female honey and dripping with sticky, glistening nectar, and the soft, moist stamens wrapped between the two soft, ripe silk-clad buttocks, were completely exposed to the man's burning gaze.

What agitated Asmodée even more was that when this beautiful head servant bent down to brew tea, her two mounds of white, smooth, and creamy breasts, like soft, ripe peaches, trembled and rippled like two drooping cream peaches. They were softly wrapped in a hollowed-out lace apron and drooped with gravity, allowing a clear view from the side of her white breasts adorned with a beauty mark.

This scene was almost like an invitation for Asmodie to slip his hand under the lace apron from behind, grasp the two soft, moist breasts, press the proud and elegant white-stockinged head maid down, and thrust his penis into the already overflowing white-stockinged soft vulva to violate her.

“Crop rotation is secondary; the priority right now is industry.” Asmodie’s lips curled into a playful smile as he tapped his fingers lightly.

"I know very little about industry," Rowling said disdainfully, glancing arrogantly at Asmodie's imposing and ferocious beastly silhouette with a hint of peach in her soft, emerald-green eyes.

"What a savage, vile beast! Does he really think he can violate me, his head maid?"

The elegant and graceful white-silk head maid, with a haughty demeanor, lightly hooked her already cool and hollowed-out white lace apron. Her two mounds of soft, snowy white breasts, like creamy peaches, exuded a sweet and mellow milky fragrance like afternoon tea. They then jumped into Asmodie's fiery gaze, wrapping the thin, hollowed-out apron between the warm, milky cleavage, where the two tender peach-shaped breasts oozed drops of milky honey.

After removing her lace apron, she resumed her elegant posture of bending over and raising her hips to brew tea, her soft, supple buttocks, clad in white silk, raised high.

Her beautiful white hands, adorned with pristine white lace maid gloves, arrogantly and disdainfully parted the soft, peach-shaped vulva dripping with sticky, ripe nectar through the thin, sheer cream-white pantyhose, like parting two soft, creamy peach petals, exposing the fragrant spring of nectar to the man's overwhelming gaze.

"Since you, you savage and lowly beast, are so eager to pounce on me and violate me while I'm making tea?" She slightly turned her pair of arrogant and contemptuous emerald green eyes, speaking languidly as if an elegant and graceful head maid were bestowing a reward upon a lowly and uncouth soldier.

"So, before the banquet begins, I'll allow you, this savage and brutal wolfhound, to freely violate my white-silk maid?"

“Of course,” she continued, then with an air of haughtiness, she lifted one of her soft, white silk-stockinged feet behind her. The translucent white silk-stockinged foot, exuding a warm, sweet, and delicate fragrance, softly hooked up her exquisite, elegant, low-cut, open-toed maid crystal high heels.

She glanced at Asmodeus with disdain, her white silk hand arrogantly lifting the white lace strap of the delicate, crystal-embellished, open-toed sandal, gently swaying it in front of Asmodeus. This revealed the smooth, glossy crystal surface of the sandal, along with the arch of her soft, creamy white silk feet and her delicate, bamboo-like toes, all to Asmodeus's view.

"Before fulfilling our promise and agreement, you lowly, savage beast have no right to defile me, your head maid, with your thick, filthy semen. You can only vent your filth and savagery with your honeyed essence, these crystal high heels, and these white silk-stockinged feet?"

Chapter 117 The White Silk Queen

The aroma of tea lingers, mingled with the sweet scent of milk.

The refreshing aroma of black tea gradually develops a hint of milk, but it's not the sweet taste of milk; rather, it's a rich, creamy milk aroma combined with the sweet scent of honey.

The atmosphere deep in the garden had lost some of its tranquility; instead, it was filled with the languid, soft moans of the elegant and beautiful white-haired head maid and the slapping sounds of milk cakes falling to the ground.

Deep within the pavilion, the elegant and graceful head maid, with her soft, honey-skinned breasts and buttocks, was leaning on the dining table, gently biting her soft, ripe lips, and uttering sweet, spring-like moans. Her lips were filled with the sweet fragrance of ripe virginity, and her proud, aloof, emerald-green eyes were now slightly filled with a dreamy, peach-heart-like allure.

The tea table, laden with tea sets and snacks, was now swaying rhythmically, causing the porcelain plates and teacups to gently collide.

Under the tea table, the head maid's soft, white silk-clad feet were trying to hook onto her delicate, elegant, white, low-cut, open-toe suspender-style crystal high heels, which were being parted by the man's long boots.

A pair of white silk legs, seemingly sculpted from milk and honey, stretched straight back under this rear position, trembling slightly. The delicate and smooth insteps were raised high, and the white silk toes, adorned with emerald green nail polish, were wrapped under pure, translucent creamy white silk, sometimes scratching and sometimes stretching.

"Hmm?~~ Hmm?~~ What a... lowly and savage beast?~~ Ugh?~~"

The gentle and intellectual head maid, Lorraine, despite her soft, white silk buttocks, as tender and ripe as honey peaches, being pounded by the man's hard and solid waist behind her, causing her soft buttocks to tremble wildly, was stretched to its limit by the man's waist each time, turning her two soft, ripe silk buttocks into soft, sweet cakes like creamy honey cakes.

She maintained her arrogant and disdainful demeanor, seemingly oblivious to the man's advances and intrusions from behind, while gently biting her full, soft lips and sipping warm red tea.

"If it weren't for... *gurgle*... for the Countess... you lowly, savage beast... you're simply... eh?... unworthy of enjoying me, your head maid... *mmm*...

The white-stockinged head maid, who always maintained a dignified and aloof demeanor towards men, arrogantly and disdainfully allowed the tall and strong Asmodian behind her to embrace her soft, fragrant white-stockinged buttocks and wantonly violate her soft, plump white-stockinged nipples, while his large hands blatantly kneaded her two fragrant, ripe breasts.

The man behind her thrust his hard waist repeatedly, causing her soft, peach-like buttocks to tremble and quiver. Her plump, white, peach-shaped vulva splattered nectar as the massive, monstrous beast increasingly violated her clitoris, staining her already thin, sheer white pantyhose with glistening rice grains.

Despite her haughty and disdainful demeanor, and her aloof and elegant bearing, her mature body, already shaped like Asmodie, had been completely ensnared by the ferocious beast that had squeezed into her soft, white-silk-clad buttocks and stretched open her tender, moist core. The sticky, soft flesh, already developed as Asmodie's exclusive property, obediently and tightly bound itself to the beast.