You shake off the groggy feeling, and it suddenly hits you, you had to report for duty almost a full hour ago!
Unable to believe your foolishness, you run to the tree where your armor lies in a pile, the heavy plates resting at the base. You slip on your underwear, tight leather briefs over which you then slide your chainmail, the individual links rolling over and straining tight against your leg muscles. Donning the plates, the mad dash begins to the main hall, you cause quite a ruckus of clanking and slinking in the otherwise peaceful woods.
"Shit, shit, shit, shit!" you mutter under your breath repeatedly, as your rush through the gates and towards the palace. You're one of the king's trusted knights. At least, you were, the future doesn't look so bright with a slip-up such as this. Busting through the door, you rush up the steps and along the carpet, up to his lordship himself.
You'll never quite get used to the sight of him. Sitting, reclined upon the throne, he sipped from a chalice that shined, taking are not to drip any on his beard, which blended seamlessly into his mane, the grey mass of hair framing his white face. But that wasn't the astounding part. Letting your eyes travel downward reminds you of his right to office. Lazily lying on the carpet before him, are his two gargantuan testicles, topped by a large, limp rod, that maybe, if you had three hands, you could possibly hold all the way around. Each orb was roughly the size of a large beach ball, you could feel the weight of them with a quick glance. Catching yourself staring, you snap your head back up and meet his piercing green eyes.
"Kneel." He commands, sternly. The voice he posessed was naturally very deep and authoritative, you hazard a guess that it's because of what's downstairs.
He's deciding what to do with you...
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