Erien

In the beginning, there was a gray sun and a yellow moon. They watched over a lonely colossal planet perched at the far ends of the universe. The planet is called Solasis. That is my home; a place that knows neither night nor day, for the sun and moon both shine at the same time.  Effectively, a yellowish gray ambiance hangs coolly in the swift air around us like infinitesimal specks of floating gold. Every true Soleroid looks to the sun as if it is a god, and when all awaken from the days’ rest, they bow on one knee in reverence. Not I, Prince Erien, son of King Brodmit Heluka and second in line to the royal throne after my elder and only brother, Kravis Heluka.

Perched upon a mighty bronze effigy, every morning I look out to the golden streets of Solasis. Small gray, brown, and blue houses made from sapphire appear like little heaps of treasure from where I sit. It always makes me feel great to gaze my silver eyes upon my father’s grand kingdom as my royal blue silk long shirt permeates cool air against the smooth of my skin.

It makes me feel even better that the responsibility of governing it will not be passed to me. My formidable elder brother, Kravis, will receive that crown. Thankfully, he is ever so thorough and responsible in all that he does that it leaves me with nothing to do. Nothing except to gaze upon the ample bosoms of pretty girls and enough time spent at court to feed the fantasies of silly old ladies who are fed up of their old weary husbands.

I am quite the charmer, I am told. I can’t help it that I am a head taller than everyone else, built with the toned physique of a god and endowed with a radiant white smile that sends every virgin swooning on my bed. Charm is like nature to me, second only to flying and my love-making expertise. My recent prey is a pretty one; she is young, slender, and has smooth violet hair. Her name is Sasha. I will be meeting her later. She knows how to satisfy the thirst between my legs like no other.

I swing from the effigy to the wide balcony adjacent to it, as my mind plunders memories of the wonderful Sasha. She is the most beautiful maiden I have ever seen. Her eyes glow golden yellow like the sun, her violet hair smells of fresh myrrh, and her tall pale body has the daintiest scales that are smooth to touch. When she’s shy, her skin turns a tinge of yellow but when I plunge my body into hers in our secret meetings, she becomes a beautiful bright red. I almost fall off the balcony just at the thought of her pink perky breasts.

Sasha is the delight of my life. Too bad I cannot marry her just yet. Custom has it that the eldest royal blood is to marry first and all the gods know that Kravis is cursed on the court. He cannot even charm a flower if he tried. I get satisfaction from his only flaw though it is delaying my happiness. The delay has its perks too; I don’t get to be tied down to anyone until I marry, which can only be arranged a few seasons after my brother’s betrothal.

I am about to leave the balcony and return to my room when something queer arrests my attention. It doesn’t sit right with me that my brother Kravis has the flaps that give his boudoir the privacy he always demands, wide open. He only lets outside air in when he is hosting company. It is a very odd hour for him to be hosting any company. If anything, Kravis is supposed to be out in the field, greeting the well to do early risers and giving alms to the poor as a future king should.

My curiosity gets the better of me, so I swing from the balcony onto a flower engraved white column. My hands graze its smooth edges before I swing onto an effigy of a woman’s head. It is meant to resemble the ancient face of Soleroids’ first queen, yet it appears much like a caricature of a frog with broad strokes of hair on its head. I think it was not pulled down for the sole reason that it is a beautiful work of art of something ugly.  The head stands as a path between the column next to my room and another smaller but prettier effigy next to my brother’s boudoir.

Needless to say, I am the only one who ever uses that treacherous effigy as a bridge. And it is not treachery I am expecting when I swing around to the small statue that gives me a clear view into Kravis room when the flaps are open.

“Fathers above.” I let out a choked whimper.

Directly in front of me, Sasha, my beautiful Sasha, has her skin out to the sun.

Sasha is not shy. She takes herself freely, plunging her ample flesh atop Kravis so roughly that his long erect groin is immersed completely inside her. She slaps her flat buttocks back and forth, coercing him to erupt in desire so that she can be satisfied. It is the way the Soleroid wedding dance is done. The betrothal pact is only made when the male erupts in desire. The copper string around the man’s genitals, solely used for the ceremony, keeps the momentum building with the effect that it makes it very hard for the male counterpart to release his seed.

I once heard of a man who was having so much pleasure, he did not release his seed in his to-be-betrothed. After ten hours of her grinding on him, the poor bride was too tired to continue and so the marriage could not take place. The man had played the same antics on a dozen bride-to-be’s until word had reached the king, my great grandfather, who had then called that the man should be given a final chance with his thirteenth choice for a bride. When he had wasted his thirteenth bride and refused to release, the then King had ordered his balls chopped off. The eunuch then served as part of the kings’ guard till his dying day. It is a cautionary tale to all who took the binding sex act as a thing of pleasure.

I swallow hard, both in anger and desire at how heated Sasha is getting. She is turning cherry red. Her body has poured out her sticky juices in feverish intervals, still Kravis refuses to be sated. He wants more of her. His skin is turning so gray, it makes me sick to know he is culminating because of the woman who is supposed to be mine.

“Sit harder,” he urges her.

Kravis digs his rough fingers into Sasha’s thin waist and pulls her down into him until he can’t possibly enter her any further. She lets out a shrill moan as her juices pour out again. My body stirs and I feel pangs of pain in my groin. I know how warm Sasha is. I know how she can drive a man insane with desire just by flashing those red tits of her. And yet I don’t know how she got to be in bed with my brother.

“Grab me,” Kravis commands her.

“Yes, my king.”

“Faster.”

She obeys and rides him like a wild horse. Subtly, she then runs her hands along his thighs then around his nuts until she reaches the hole in his ass. With her fingers, she stretches it until he cries out in pleasure. I do a face-palm to keep myself from seeing the trick. It is common knowledge not to use other erotic tricks to increase pleasure during the wedding dance, but what does it matter. I suppose future kings follow no rules. They are both sweaty and breathing heavily. Kravis can’t contain himself with her atop him. He wants to plunge into her, possibly make her pregnant. It has happened before. The thought makes me very angry.

Kravis turns whilst still inside Sasha. He is now on top of her and has his arse mocking me as it contracts and relaxes with every dig into her soft pink flesh. I can almost cry as I hear her beg him for mercy she doesn’t need. She is enjoying every minute of it. Every minute of betrayal, though it cannot be called that because she was never engaged to me.  Kravis’s huge body is shaking with desire. It is clear he will release any moment now. How could he not, she is a pretty thing to behold, let alone make love to. I know I gave her much practice of that in our dark meetings.

Then suddenly, it hits me. My brother will release his seed any time, and that will make Sasha his wife. I will not have it. If only I can stop him before he erupts inside her. If only I can kill him, then I will have both Sasha and his throne. Or perhaps, I will kill them both.