--- CHAPTER 17: (R18) The Humiliated Queen of the Fallen Kingdom ---
My head... gods, my head is pounding like a relentless warhammer against my skull. Where... where the fuck am I? This isn't my bed—the sheets are too damn fine, silkier than anything in my personal quarters, smooth and luxurious like they're woven from clouds. And that scent... jasmine? It smells like... pure royalty, feminine and intoxicating? The room around me swims into focus, ornate tapestries depicting Stormwind's golden lions hanging on the walls, a grand four-poster bed enveloping me in its opulence. This is no ordinary chamber; it's fit for a queen. Panic surges through my veins as memories of last night's revelry with Varian flicker back—too much ale, too many toasts to the alliance. I must have stumbled here in my drunken haze.
Arthas cracked his eyes open just enough to let the dim candlelight filter in, revealing the sheer panic etched across her beautiful, mature face. Oh, Light above, it's her. Queen Taria—Varian's mother, the exiled queen of Stormwind. How the hell did I stumble into her room drunk off my ass? Smooth move, you absolute idiot. But fuck... just look at her. Those massive, heaving tits spilling out of her thin nightgown like forbidden treasures begging to be claimed, her thick, curvaceous thighs peeking seductively from under the rumpled sheets, practically inviting me to dive between them. Her long, dark hair cascades over her shoulders like a silken waterfall, framing a face that's a perfect blend of regal poise and vulnerable beauty. eyes, sharp and intelligent, now widened in terror. I've been horny as a feral beast ever since that damn System quest popped up, my cock throbbing like mad, veins bulging with years of pent-up frustration and reincarnated lust. And now? Here's a queen, vulnerable, alone in this unguarded chamber, no servants or knights to interrupt. Primal instincts are kicking in hard—my blood's boiling, my mind racing with depraved thoughts of conquest and domination.
She knew exactly what it was—the unmistakable, rock-hard press of a man's insistent arousal grinding against her thigh. Turning her head in wide-eyed terror, she locked eyes with the intruder. No... Light preserve me, it's not my son Varian, but his closest friend—Arthas Menethil, the Crown Prince of Lordaeron himself! How did he get in here? We're completely alone, no guards at the door, no one to hear my cries. This can't be happening—my heart's racing, a cold dread spreading through my veins like poison. The alliance between our kingdoms hangs by a thread; one scandal could unravel everything. I've known Arthas since he was a boy, playing with Varian in the courtyards, but now... now he's a man, his body hardened by training, his eyes burning with something dark and hungry.
"Arthas? What in the Light's name are you doing here?" Queen Taria whispered harshly, her voice trembling as she pulled the sheets tighter around her body, her sharp eyes wide with shock and fear. The candlelight dances across her skin, highlighting the soft curves that time has only enhanced, making her look like a goddess displaced from her throne.
Arthas blinked, still groggy from the hangover, but the sight of her fueled his arousal. He shifted closer, his hand reaching out to brush against her arm, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath the thin fabric. "Queen Taria... I must've wandered in here last night after too much ale with Varian. But now that I'm here... gods, you look incredible. I've always admired you—from afar, of course." His voice is low, laced with a hunger that's impossible to ignore, his body pressing closer, the heat between them building like a storm about to break.
Her breath caught, and she scooted back against the headboard, her heart pounding in her chest. "This is improper! You're like a son to me—Varian's best friend. Leave now, before anyone finds out. Please, Arthas, think of the alliance, the scandal this could cause." Her mind races with the implications—exile has already stripped her of so much; this could destroy what's left of her dignity and her son's future.
And then, as if the universe itself conspired to deepen the depraved awkwardness of the moment, the System interface chimed in with its ethereal glow, overlaying his vision like a divine decree. The blue panel hovers insistently, its words burning into his mind.
[System UI] Accept the task: Origin of Life. [Task: Origin of Life] The continuation of life depends on the bonds of all things. Try to connect. Connect with three different women, regardless of race. [Task Reward] Naturally increase the favorability of intimate bonds by 20. Intimacy will definitely satisfy the other party. You can obtain life essence every time you connect. [Life Essence] Accumulating enough life essence can improve strength, prolong life, heal wounded soldiers, and revive souls.
Staring at the glowing panel's sudden prompt, Arthas froze for a heartbeat, his mind reeling. A straight-up sex quest? The System's handing me a mission to fuck three different women? 'Connect'? 'Satisfy them completely'? 'Harvest life essence'? This turns me into some kind of alliance-forging, power-boosting stud, breeding my way to godhood? Hopefullly! The rewards—boosting my strength, extending life, even reviving the dead? Who the hell could turn this down? This isn't just a quest; it's destiny, a divine mandate to conquer pussies and build an empire of lust. No way I'm refusing—this is the greatest objective in any game's history, reincarnated or not! He glanced back at the trembling woman before him, her friendly green name tag hovering: "Taria (Queen of Stormwind)." Well, holy shit. Target number one right here in my grasp, and what a glorious, taboo start. The System's timing is impeccable, turning a drunken mistake into an opportunity for ultimate power.
What immediately caught his predatory eye was the lazy, seductive form of the mature woman sprawled on the massive bed, her two plump, voluptuous white legs crossed and stacked in a tantalizing pose that accentuated their curves, her white, tender feet arched gracefully. Ten delicate, jade-like toes were adorned with bright red nail polish, gleaming like precious rubies embedded in flawless marble, each one begging to be kissed or sucked. A thin, silken blanket draped loosely over her plump, round waist, rising and falling rhythmically with her anxious breathing, hinting at the lush hips and ass hidden beneath. The sight stirs something primal in him, a desire to possess every inch of her royal form.
"Scandal? Maybe," Arthas murmured, his voice low and husky as he leaned in closer, his hand trailing down her arm to her waist, fingers brushing the edge of the blanket. "But think about it, Your Majesty. The alliance is fragile. Stormwind needs Lordaeron's support—my support. I could make sure Varian gets his throne back. All the resources, the troops... everything." His words are a velvet threat, weaving promises with coercion, his body inching closer, the heat of his arousal pressing against her.
Taria's eyes narrowed, a mix of fear and suspicion crossing her face, her mind calculating the risks. "What are you implying, Arthas? This sounds like blackmail. You're better than this—I know you are. We've shared meals, stories... you're practically family." Her voice holds a plea, remembering the boy he once was, but seeing the man he's become—ambitious, ruthless.
He chuckled darkly, his fingers tugging gently at the edge of her nightgown, exposing more of her creamy skin. "Family? That's what makes this so... exciting. Come on, Taria. You've been alone for years, widowed and exiled. Don't tell me you haven't felt the ache. Let me take care of you. For Varian's sake, if nothing else." His hand slides lower, tracing the curve of her hip, his eyes locked on hers with unyielding intensity.
"No, Your Highness, please no! Stop this madness!" Queen Taria cried out in sheer desperation, trying to push him away as he began to strip her nightgown, exposing her full, heaving breasts and the soft curves of her body. The cool air hits her skin, sending shivers through her, her nipples hardening despite her resistance.
Arthas paused, his eyes locked on hers, but his grip firm on her wrists. "Surrender to me, Taria. Let me have you, and I'll pour everything into rebuilding Stormwind. I'll back Varian all the way. But if you fight me... well, alliances can be fickle. You know that." His voice is a growl, the threat hanging heavy in the air, his body pinning her down.
She shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes. "This is wrong. How can you do this? Twisting my love for my son against me—it's cruel. Unforgivable." Her body trembles, a mix of fear and the unwelcome spark of arousal from his touch.
"Of course it's for Varian," Arthas lied smoothly, his hand sliding between her thighs, fingers brushing her sensitive folds. "He wants me to take good care of you. Deeply. Thoroughly. Trust me, he'll thank me later." His touch is insistent, probing, igniting a traitor response in her body.
Arthas forced her trembling legs apart with rough hands, grinding his swollen, leaking tip against her intimate entrance, teasing the folds that guarded her sacred core. The friction sends sparks through both of them, her body beginning to betray her with a growing slickness.
Due to her frantic struggles and twisting body, he couldn't quite penetrate, her thighs clenching in defiance. Frustrated and aroused, he smacked her plump ass hard with his open palm, the crack echoing in the chamber!
Snap!
"Ah! That hurts!" Queen Taria yelped, her body freezing in shock, a vivid, stinging red handprint blooming across her pale, creamy skin. The pain mixes with the heat building inside her, confusing her senses.
"If you want my full help, cooperate," Arthas growled, rubbing the spot he struck, his touch turning soothing yet possessive. "After the war with the orcs, the Alliance will be broke. No spoils, just losses. Without me pushing for funds, Stormwind's done. Your people starve, Varian stays in exile. But spread those legs, let me in, and it's all yours." His words are a calculated mix of threat and promise, his arousal throbbing against her.
Taria bit her lip, tears streaming down her cheeks. "You're a monster for this, Arthas. Fine... for my kingdom, for my son. Just... be gentle. It's been years." Her voice breaks, her legs parting slightly, surrendering to the inevitable.
Arthas taunted with a wicked grin, continuing to rub and prod at her entrance with his thick shaft. Not long after, despite her mental resistance, a treacherous warmth began to build, her body betraying her with slick arousal. The scent of her growing desire fills the air, fueling his triumph.
"Of course he does—he wants me to take good care of you, deeply and thoroughly!" With a primal roar, Arthas sank his waist forward in one powerful motion, his thick, insistent cock piercing through the protective folds of her intimate entrance.
The sensation was overwhelming—warm, scorching hot, welcoming like a velvet glove tailored just for him, the tender walls surrounding his shaft from all sides in a grip that sent waves of pleasure crashing through his body. Her tightness envelops him completely, every inch a conquest.
"Fuck, Taria... your pussy's a goddamn masterpiece, so tight and hot," Arthas groaned, his eyes squeezing shut in bliss, his hands gripping her hips.
"Ah! Gently, please—it's too much!" Queen Taria gasped, her jade-like hands hugging his back, her legs splaying outward to accommodate him, her body adjusting despite the pain.
"Hiss, ah, auntie, you're so fucking welcoming—your pussy's sucking me in," Arthas panted, starting to thrust slowly, building a rhythm that tests her limits.
"Don't call me that," Taria whimpered, but her hips shifted slightly, her body adapting. "Ah... it's... too much, but... gods, it's been so long." Her voice softens, the long-denied pleasure surfacing.
Arthas praised breathlessly, rolling his hips. "Fuck, auntie... this pussy is so goddamn good, sucking and milking my dick. I'm gonna fuck you raw until you're screaming." His thrusts deepen, the room filling with the sounds of their bodies meeting.
Queen Taria felt extremely miserable, but her body warmed up traitorously. She tried to suppress her sounds, but sighs escaped—seductive and gentle, echoing her internal conflict.
"Ah... Auntie... Your depths are so fucking good... Ah... I should have claimed this pussy much earlier..." Arthas murmurs, his pace quickening, lost in the sensation.
"Meet me halfway! Open those lips for me—kiss me back," Arthas demanded, leaning in, his breath hot against her skin.
"Mmm!" Taria complied tearfully, their kiss deepening as obscene sounds filled the room—pa pa pa, gurgling wet slaps that underscore the depravity.
"Fuck, queen... your cunt's slurping and sucking my cock so loudly—it's delicious, so wet and nasty," Arthas murmured against her lips, his hands exploring her breasts.
Taria broke the kiss briefly, gasping. "This is humiliating... but.... For the alliance... ah!" Her body arches, surrendering more.
Arthas thrust harder, grinning. "That's it, Taria. Moan for me. Tell me how it feels." His demands push her further, breaking down her barriers.
"It... it feels full... overwhelming," she admitted through gritted teeth, her nails digging into his back. "You're too big... but... Light, it's stirring something in me." The confession hangs in the air, a turning point.
Their bodies synced, the room echoing with their voices and the lewd symphony of their joining, building toward an inevitable climax. The candlelight flickers, casting shadows that dance like witnesses to their forbidden union, the alliance forged in sweat and surrender.
--- END OF CHAPTER 17 ---