Authors: Roxie Noir
Letting the King Watch (Exhibitionism and Voyeurism Erotica): Part Eleven of the Erotic Adventures of Heraklea
First, this book is for adults only. 18+. Come on, guys.
Second, the cover model is only a model and in no way endorses the content of this book.
Want to get long, firm erotica thrust deep into your aching inbox?
Sign up for my mailing list
for a free erotic short story!
Previously on
The Erotic Adventures:
Heraklea stood, still wrapped in her bedsheets, in the largest hall she had ever seen. She wasn't even positive that she was indoors; she thought she saw a vaulting silver ceiling high above, but it could have been the sky. The floor was white marble, polished to a high shine and cold on her bare feet. Fifty feet away was a golden dais, columns on either side of the dais that went so high she couldn't see their tops. The dais had six steps leading up to it, and on it were perched two enormous thrones, gold, the armrests carved in intricate patterns and figurines. Hunters chased deer, boars, lions across the thrones; women swooned; men drank from vases.
What really concerned Heraklea was the two people in the thrones. For one thing, they seemed slightly larger than people should be. Not giants, but slightly wrong, too large by a quarter. For another, they were more beautifully dressed that anyone she had seen before: the man's robes and the woman's dress were shot through with threads of silver and gold, and each wore a heavily jeweled diadem on their head. The man had a gray mane and beard that gave him a slightly wild look, mismatched to his immaculate clothing, the immaculate room; the woman had dark hair and bright violet eyes. Heraklea had never seen eyes that color before.
She didn't need a map to tell her where she was: this was Mount Olympus, home of the gods, and these two were Zeus and Hera, the king and queen. Heraklea pulled her sheet more firmly around her and wished she were properly dressed. Technically, Zeus was her father or, at least, he had sown his seed in her mother's womb under false pretenses. Amphitryon was her
father,
as far as she was concerned. But her feelings on the matter probably weren't going to be much use with Hera, who was notoriously jealous of Zeus' conquests and notoriously nasty to the subsequent offspring.
"First she fucks half of Greece, then you try and marry her off and she fucks her husband half to death," Hera continued, looking down at Heraklea like she was a particularly revolting insect.
Zeus leaned on one fist, ignoring Hera. "What are we going to do with you?" he said.
Silence. Heraklea looked from one to the other and back again. "Is Lykos dead?" she finally asked, her voice sounding tiny in the great hall.
"Not yet," said Hera. "Just fucked into a coma. Never seen anything like it. Have you, darling? You've got more experience in that sort of thing."
Zeus frowned and continued to ignore his wife. "It's unfortunate you turned out female. Everyone expects this behavior of a rich young man."
"Helen never acted like this," Hera said.
"I'm sorry," Heraklea said, tearing up. "I didn't mean to hurt him."
"No," rumbled Zeus. "But still, you must atone."
"King Eurystheus has been having a lot of problems lately, down in Argos," Hera said. "He could use some help killing monsters."
"Hmm, yes," Zeus said. "Maybe that will exhaust you."
Hera smirked, her beautiful face an ill-concealed mask of rage. "He's a very demanding man," she said. "You're to do anything and everything that he asks of you, or you'll be his servant forever."
"Go then," Zeus said, and with a wave of his hand, golden light filled Heraklea's vision again, and when she could see again, she found herself in a smaller room, though still grand, in front of another throne, a surprised-looking king on it.
Heraklea was having trouble sleeping ever since she'd had sex with the last monster.
At night, she'd lie awake in her bed, the fire guttering out, and watch the moon cast its faint light through the curtains over her single window. She'd listen to the fountains gurgling outside, the occasional night guards walking past, sometimes the almost-silent bare feet of lovers, tiptoeing to and from one another's rooms. She'd fall asleep only to wake back up, an hour later or two at the most, the light from the window barely moved across the room, telling her it was still nighttime and that everyone but her was still fast asleep, relaxing in their beds.
Her problem twofold. First, it had slowly dawned on her that, even though she was bound to the king by the gods' proclamation and was technically in the palace as something between a prisoner and an errand-girl, she liked it there. Before this she had been married to an inbred king of a faraway place, someone who thought she was an innocent good girl like most Greek princesses, and whose highest aspiration for her was to bear as many children as possible. Heraklea had always thought that was the only real path open to her, other than a life of poverty and spinsterhood, once her parents were gone. Obviously she couldn't inherit anything.
Before her marriage she'd been insatiable, willing to fuck nearly anything that moved, something she knew she got from her father, Zeus, and in her current situation that had proven to be the most useful thing, though whether that was by accident or design she didn't know. But her time here was running out, and that was her second problem: she could count. She had only been assigned twelve tasks, and the monster Geryon--part human, part lion, part dragon--had been number ten. After two more, she'd have to go back to her parents and pretend along with them that a tragic accident had befallen her husband, but Heraklea wasn't dumb. She knew she was damaged goods now, already married once.
In short, she didn't have a lot to look forward to, and it was slowly dawning on her that right where she was--in the palace of King Eurystheus, her taskmaster--was probably the very best place for her, but she also didn't know how she felt about him. Sometimes he was high-handed and domineering; sometimes he seemed almost nice and relatable. Sometimes she wanted to fuck his brains out and sometimes she just wanted to stab him through the heart.
It was really a lot to think about, and so she stayed awake.
The next few days stretched into the next few weeks, then nearly a month. It was the longest she'd ever gone without a task from the king, and though she tried to act normal on the outside, continuing to spar with the guards, take meals, go to the baths, all the normal things a Greek noblewoman did at court, on the inside she was increasingly uncertain about what was going on. She assumed that, if he wanted her to leave, the king would let her know, but what if she simply hadn't gotten the memo?
Then again, she began to wonder if this was a complicated scheme for her to stay: if she never got another task, technically, she would wait there at the palace for the rest of her life. It was house arrest, but it was better than the house arrest of being some idiot's wife and mother, though it meant she'd never leave Rhodes again, never see the world beyond the borders of this fairly small kingdom.
Klea went to target practice. She showed up in court. She sparred with the guards, she went for long walks around the palace grounds, she even took up needlework . She was terrible at it.
Then, one day, she turned a corner in the gardens and there he was, sitting on a bench, looking around at the flowers and plants, two guards a respectful distance away.
"Heraklea," he said.
"Your majesty," she said, surprised. She'd never seen him this casual before, anywhere that wasn't carefully designed by him to give him an air of authority over her, to make her uncomfortable and him kingly. Right now, sitting on the bench and contemplating nature, he just seemed, well, normal.
"The birds are beginning their annual migrations," he said. "It'll be autumn soon."
"Yes," she said, still not sure what he was getting at.
"Harvest time is soon," he said. "Then, winter. The clock of the world spins round again."
He was getting poetic. She had no idea how to respond.
Then, he swung his head to look at her, sharply. "Do you enjoy your tasks?" he asked.
She opened her mouth, then closed it. Every task he'd sent her on had turned into sex: sometimes with men, sometimes with women, sometimes with monsters, two or three of them, the most depraved things anyone could imagine. She
had
enjoyed it, and she knew she enjoyed sending her away on these missions, but should she give him the satisfaction?
Heraklea stared at the king for seconds on end.
"Yes," she finally said.
"Ah, good," he said lightly, looking away again at a bird landing on a branch. There was another long pause. "I need the apples of the Hesperides," he said.
"I see."
"For the festival. In two weeks."
Klea just nodded. For one second she thought they'd been about to have a heart-to-heart, where he asked her if she wanted to stay on at his court and she'd said yes, she'd like that, and if he ever needed a monster taken care of he'd do it, but he'd just been sitting in the gardens, not thinking about her at all other than as a way to get something he needed.
She stared at him, disappointed. For a moment she thought she might cry, but she blinked back tears. There was still one more task after this one, a few more weeks, maybe, of getting to stay at the palace.
"I'll get them," she said, and turned away. She didn't see whether he watched her leave or not.
***
The king watched her walk away, that beautiful ass swaying beneath the translucent material of her long white dress. Once she was gone, he stood and walked the opposite direction, out of the gardens, back to his chambers where the captain of his guard was waiting.
"Tell me when she's preparing to leave," he said.
"Yes sir," the captain responded.
The Hesperides were at the literal end of the earth, fruit that grew on the tree that held the sky, the tree that the titan Atlas guarded. To get the apples she'd have to go through him.
The king knew exactly how she'd deal with Atlas. He knew exactly how she'd dealt with every single problem he'd put in front of her. The knowledge kept the jar of olive oil in his bedside stand half-empty, his hands well-moisturized.
When she met the titan, the king finally intended to watch it with his own eyes.
***
Klea went back to her quarters, trying her best not to cry. There was this task and then one more, and then...? She hadn't even planned that far in advance. She'd go back to her parents' kingdom, she assumed, and prepare for one of two lives, motherhood or spinsterhood, and she wasn't sure which was worse. Maybe she should try to be a wandering mercenary, who'd kill monsters and other problems for pay, but that also meant a life with no creature comforts, begging food off of innkeepers, and being destitute the first time she got a bad injury.
She didn't sleep that night, either, and though she thought about putting it off, she set out early the next morning for the Hesperides, armored, sword and bow in hand even though she was positive she wouldn't be using them. First thing in the morning she rode out of the palace, headed for the port, where she got on a ship headed to the ends of the earth, trying the entire time not to worry too much.
***
"Sir," said the guard after coming into the king's chambers, "She's on her way out."
"Where is she now?"
"In the stables, sir. Getting a horse. She'll be leaving within the half hour."
The king nodded, dismissing the man.
He was prepared for this, even as he stayed an extra moment in bed, wondering if this was a good idea. After so much time thinking about how she defeated the monsters, about how she completed the tasks he set her, did he really want to see her in action? Was that sort of thing best left to the imagination?
Besides, when was the last time he'd been out of the palace and unguarded? He hoped he remembered the niceties of being out in public. He wasn't sure he did.
In a chest near the king's bed was a set of traveling clothes, a long hooded clock, and a satchel with plenty of money. As he was dressing, a guard knocked on the door and handed him a quantity of cured meats, cheeses, and bread, all for the journey.
Twenty minutes after his men reported that Klea had left, he sneaked out a side door of the palace, took a horse from the stables, and began following her.
***
Since it was paid for by the king, Klea took a small cabin on the ship. She probably could have gotten her own quarters regardless, since she was a woman and no one wanted to be
improper
with her, but it was nice to be able to pay for it.
As she opened the door, readying herself for the voyage, she saw a man wearing traveling clothes and a long hood talking to the ship's cabin. She couldn't see his face, but there was something oddly familiar about him.
Klea took a mental note and closed the door. She didn't see the odd man for the rest of the voyage.
***
Staying under wraps during a sea voyage was easy: the king just pretended he had severe seasickness, and no one wanted to know anything else. He disembarked well after the others and followed Klea at a long distance for two days, always staying in a different inn than she, a different town if he could help it. Finally, at long last, they closed in on the Hesperides, where an apple tree held up the sky and a titan guarded it.
***
Klea had been so distracted by her life circumstances that she'd not given much thought to how she was going to get the apples, right up until she approached the orchard where the famous tree grew. She rode through the trees slowly, looking around. How would she know the right apple tree when she saw it? What if a tree holding up the sky looked just like every other tree in the orchard, and that was the best defense of all? If that were the case, couldn't she just take some apples and take them back to the king? He wasn't here. He'd probably never seen apples of the Hesperides before. He'd be none the wiser.
That plan was sounding better and better to Klea when, finally, she saw it in the distance: a tree that dwarfed all other trees, four times as high and wide as a building, branches striking out toward the heavens. Honestly, she'd been hoping to just take some apples from a regular tree and be done with the task, but no: now she had to go get special apples. Klea sighed and spurred her horse onward.
Leading up to the tree itself was a fence, then a clearing with bushes all around the edges. In the center, directly under the trunk, sat an enormous, powerful-looking man in a rocking chair. He was fast asleep, his heavily muscled chest rising and falling. He had a short-cropped gray beard and gray hair, and Klea wondered how old he was, though she knew it was pointless to know the age of a titan. They routinely lived to be a thousand; this man could be anywhere from five hundred on up.
She dismounted and looked at the three. The lower branches were all ten feet from the ground, easily, but she'd climbed worse; if she could climb it without waking the man up, she could easily get the apples and then leave.
As she walked toward the tree, he didn't wake. She put one hand, then both, on the tree trunk: nothing. She looped her arms and legs around it and began to climb, monkey-like, and he stil didn't wake.
Maybe this won't be so hard
, she thought.
At almost exactly that moment, her foot slipped. She didn't fall, but didn't regain her footing until she'd already shaken loose a flurry of dead leaves and tiny branches, right onto the titan's head.
Of course
, she thought.
The older man shook awake with a start, brushing the twigs out of his hair before looking up, directly at her. For a moment, she locked eyes with the titan, and then he spoke, his voice a deep, earthquake-like rumble.
"What on earth are ya doing up there, lass?"
***
The king had followed her, close, waiting for the right moment to hid behind a bush, and then it came: as she scooted up the tree, he made his move. As she moved upward and along the branches, he contemplated throwing pebbles at the giant to wake him. Nothing would be worse than coming all the way here and not getting to watch her in action.
Luckily, she did it on her own. The old man woke up. The king settled in to see what might happen, though he had a very, very good guess.
***
"I was sent for the apples."
Atlas, the titan, looked at her for another moment, and then stood. He was eight feet tall, easily. "You cannot just take those."
