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Nervous hands fiddled with a bit of soft, disposable fabric, twisting it softly, trying to relieve the owner's inner tension but also unwilling to ruin the fabric.
It was good fabric, the piece was just too little to be really useful for any robes an adult could wear. Sadly, the Northern Kingdom didn’t have any little Princeling’s nor any Princesses for Him to make cute robes for. As a Demon of his particular race, Shang Hua was much more inclined to domestic tendencies than the stereotype of nearly all Demon races, so the fact that there weren’t any little feets pitter pattering around the palace was a bit off putting to his instincts.
While others set value in showing strength and dominance, his race valued fertility and prosperity of the home, which in a way also had to do with having as many kids as possible. Their whole culture was centred around their dual-sexuality and them being able to repopulate no matter what sex their bodies presents itself to the world as.
His kind normally lives in the relatively secure plains and hills, where their only rival for food was also their food that liked to hunt near their Group of Hills. Rarely if ever the Clan made contact with the demons outside of their territory, and outsiders where only allowed inside their homey village when something special was happening.
Their village was big, which could really be called a small city. That’s how fast they reproduce. Most importantly though, was the fact that his kind was adept at specializing in a profession and gaining enough proficiency in it and good reputation to easily be accepted into palaces without second thoughts.
Shang Hua was the son of a middle class couple, ironically enough a middle child and as such easily forgotten. He was small, body still thin without any features that revealed his fertility when it happened. No curves, no special marks to show his standing in the village. He hadn’t come into his Powers yet, much less had he begun to mature and as such become interesting enough for suitors to pursue him.
It came to the surprise of everyone that the visiting Tailor of the renowned Northern King singled him out and bugged him with her cold unrelenting gaze until he relented and stuttered out a quiet yes to an apprenticeship under the strict, exacting woman.
And now here he was, trembling in his warm boots as his Master told him he would be helping her tailor new casual robes for The Mobei-Jun.
Him. Clumsy little Shang Hua who trips over his own dainty feets and ends up falling on his plump bottom more than actually walking because of all the clutter the other apprentices left in the workshop sometimes. Him who was often daydreaming while he should be working, him who also couldn’t help his baser instincts and could very much just jump the King and climb him like a tree for all that his Master knew.
A small keen of despair left him and Shang Hua hid his face in his hands. Sadly, after a few seconds he had to admit that it brought nothing because of the faintly glowing freckles on top of his cheeks. Hiding in the dark was one hell of a chore.
Shakily, he breathed out and put his hands down. Surely, this was all a misunderstanding with his master, Shang Hua wasn’t actually going to help her make the King a Casual robe!
His master must be kidding.
•
•
•
His master was in fact not kidding, because Shang Hua stood before the Northern King in his Apprentice robes, feeling more microscopic than ever before.
Mobei-Jun is more handsome than Shang Hua had ever imagined, clearly something was more than just slightly different here than how he wrote it in his novel.
With his towering height, his flawless blue tinted skin and those icy blue eyes that pierced right through his soul, the Northern King snatched Shang Hua’s attention like a house on fire-
Wait no, bad comparison… An Avalanche racing towards him! …that one’s bad too…
In any case, the cold beauty of the Northern King captured many and they were let down as soon as the King's eyes fell on them. There was nothing but cold indifference in those twin pools of eternal Ice, one could nearly feel their death looming before them.
As the creator of this world, having imagined nearly everything and written it down in bouts of inspiration, Shang Hua was aware that there were still things he would not know off. Like the fact that Demons were much more diverse than he thought, them being monstrous beauties in a way that really made it clear they weren’t from the human world.
Some humanoid Demons were so big they had to live in castles or risk knocking themselves against cave ceilings or other things. Animal parts were something commonly seen amongst the lower demons, brought out by their Demonic blood. Elegant Claws and fangs were shown in pride by those of higher standing, their eyes and ears often also revealing their non-human blood simply by being too other.
Royal markings were also something unique to certain bloodlines in the Demon Realm, and after hundreds of Thousands of years fighting and slaughtering between each other only a handful of individuals with royal blood remained, and the Mo Clan was one of them.
This brought great pride for those under their rule. Their Lords and Ladies kept them on top of the other Kingdoms, the bragging rights were in the Northern Deserts and the morale was at an all time high. Of course there were still Heavenly Demons to consider, but those were on completely different scales and generally more pariah than actual rulers, even if it didn’t seem like that.
The point is, that Mobei-Jun had come into his inheritance, the old King was dead, his body consumed by the new King and the crowned King’s uncle was apprehended, rotting away in the dungeons. At any point of his apprenticeship, Shang Hua could’ve stumbled upon the Northern Prince, but whatever divine being had now control over the world of his Novel, decided that the best time for Shang Hua to meet his Creation was now.
Wonderful. Absolutely wonderful, Shang Hua couldn’t wait to be killed for accidentally touching the King with his needles.
And so, with the icy gaze of his new King on him, Shang Hua proceeded to do what he did best when nervous. Distract himself with idle chatter about what was Happening in the Palace and the latest gossip going around in the servant quarters. Quietly and soft spoken of course, always making sure the King hadn’t subtly demanded he stops.
With his small hands occupied arranging different instruments, Shang Hua could nearly forget the sharp gaze of the King examining him. Shivers traveled down his spine, leaving him feeling exposed and kind of dizzy. This was dangerous territory his thoughts were going to, dangerous because out of all demons in the whole Northern Palace, The King least of all should know about Shang Hua’s attraction to him and his pheromones would clearly give him away.
But here he was, feeling the knot of tension in his belly become heavier the longer he remained in the room. It was a curse and a blessing being in the King’s presence, after many years fantasizing what his greatest creation would be like, would look like, he finally was able to see him. But everything had a price, and Shang Hua was aware the price here could very well be his head .
As calmly as he could, Shang Hua grabbed his prepared instruments and the fabrics before turning around and meekly walked to the desk near the King, neatly setting everything down before finally turning to the king. He wrung his hands, a small bead of sweat forming in the back of his head as he met Icy blue eyes head on again.
Round, lightly freckled cheeks warmed in embarrassment at what he would have to ask of the King. “M- My King, this one- this one asks you to disrobe please…” Blood rushed stronger to his cheeks, warming them even as Shang Hua tried to stop it.
Without much fanfare the King began to disrobe, Shang Hua taking his robes and folding them neatly, gaze not daring to look up. Not until he was suddenly holding the King's upper underrobe.
He swiftly looked up, cheeks flaming once again, just to see the King already hooking a finger inside the pants waistband to pull them down. “My- My King, this is enough! Please remain with your pants on!” Shang Hua immediately looked down after saying that, fussing over the neatly folded robes of the King, refusing to look up. As such he missed the weird look the King was giving him, but he certainly felt the intense gaze upon him.
“Mn”
Exhaling shakily, Shang Hua set down the last piece of clothing and grabbed his measuring tape from the table, hesitant steps taking him near the King. “This one- this one will begin now, if my King is amiable for that.” He waited for the brief affirmative ‘Mn’ the King was known for before Shang Hua even brought his stepping stool near the huge Demon.
Shyly, voice meek and sweet, Shang Hua began measuring the King's shoulder length from behind, asking the King to flex his muscles a bit to see the difference and automatically committing them to memory. Flustered after asking the King for such and seeing the King’s incredible Back Muscles flex sexily, Shang Hua bit his lip, nearly squirming as the heat in his belly got a little bit worse.
His voice was breathy as he asked the King to turn a bit, then he set the measuring tape to the King's shoulder and down to his wrist, soft fingertips gently trailing down the light blue tinted skin of the limb while he spread out the measuring tape. A brief look up told him the King was watching him with a heated gaze, which should be impossible. A high pitched squeak left him at that realization and the blush that had been finally going down, once more flared up in his cheeks.
Heart racing and with a tight knot in his throat, Shang Hua put his measuring tape around the King’s upper arm and squeaked out his next question- “C- could my King please Fl- flex, this one-“ -only to be interrupted by the King flexing his beefy muscles and scaring his little heart further into beating wildly from excitement.
It was just excitement, it’s the King, of course I’m excited!
Shang Hua felt as if his heart was trying to escape his lithe ribcage and migrate to the King's strong, broad one instead. The Little Transmigrator wouldn’t even be angry at it, if it did, he would love to just borrow himself in everything Mobei-Jin related to. Those pecs look perfect for burying his face into. The King was a really amazing specimen of a Demon.
Ah, my King! Too perfect!
Squirming slightly where he stood, Shang Hua considered asking the King to excuse him, but then he mentally slapped himself and lifted his trembling hands again, measuring the flexed biceps of the King, his breathing coming out a bit stronger.
Hesitantly, Shang Hua spoke up, hoping to not embarrass himself further. “Could m- my King please turn to face this servant?” Brown doe eyes watched as the King turned fully to him, inevitably landing on those huge light blue tinted pecs that really should be called boob’s already with how squishable they looked.
Trembling hands came up again to measure the King’s ‘bust’. Shang Hua felt his cheeks warm further at that- thought and refused to think of those glorious, squishable, holy man tits- Gah! He was doing it again !
Evading looking up, Shang Hua directed the King so that he could measure the other arm and finally step down from his stepping stool and put it to the side.
And now comes the really hard part. Measuring the King’s lower half, and not dying from being too horny for his Monarch.
Taking a deep breath, he began with the easier task, measuring the King’s waist, which surprisingly went without any hiccups since that was nearly eye level for him, only a little higher than his head. But then he had to lower his eyes further and he could clearly see the pillar of the King in his pants. He couldn’t say if it was always like that, or if it was half hard, but damn was it huge . It would make even those of his race hesitate for a second, and they were notoriously known for accepting nearly all bedpartners. The bigger the better, as their ancestors say.
Shang Hua could feel his cheeks flushing as he continued his work, small hands trembling as he came nearer to the King’s hips and as such, his impressive pillar.
Concentrating so hard made him not see the King move, and so Shang Hua was spooked when big clawed hands suddenly halted his small ones in their trajectory. His breath hitched and the blush in his cheeks got worse. Shyly, the timid transmigrator looked up and was met with intense blue eyes.
Ah, My King! So handsome, so perfect! Let me have a go at your tits!
Having his smooth hands cradled between the big callused ones of the King, the small servant once again was reminded of the size difference between him and the Royal standing before him. A shiver of pure desire traveled down his spine, settling in his hips as he squirmed, rubbing his plump tights together in an attempt to alleviate his discomfort.
His chest was flushed a gentle red, Shang Hua just knew it, his blush always traveled down. So embarrassing, what will the King think of you? Impossible, he will probably-
He was stopped in his thoughts as he suddenly felt a big, cold hand caressing his plump behind, trailing over the enticing curve and then between his legs, snuggled in the warm and inviting triangle where his thighs and hips met. With his lower asscheeks and his cock cradled in the King's hand, his pulsating arousal and the wetness between his legs more obvious than ever, the little demon felt like dying and at the same time like Christmas came early.
The King's hand holding his wrists let go and Shang Hua all of a sudden remembered that he, in fact, does have two fully functional hands. His attention was mostly still on the hand between his legs, the big clawed fingers cradling his cock moving minimally, stimulating him, making him squirm. Shang Hua barely took note of the big clawed thumb snuggled under one of his plump asscheeks though, too overwhelmed with everything that was his King.
His face was so close to Mobei-Jun’s, the royal having crouched down to- play with him. The King's free hand came up, caressing his round cheeks with the back of his fingers, so tenderly and lovingly that the small servant felt a bit faint. Never in both his lifetimes would he have thought that he’d ever find himself standing between Mobei-Jun’s muscled thighs while said royal crouched in front of him, touching him so intimately.
Trembling and quaking in arousal before the King, Shang Hua held up eye contact. Even as the King’s hand that was caressing his face grabbed his chin and easily coaxed his jaw open, big clawed thumb pressing down lightly on his lip and lower teeth row, he didn’t pull back. Shang Hua only grabbed the King's forearm to steady himself, brown eyes half lidded and chest heaving. With his mouth open, pink lips forming an enticing round form, Shang Hua couldn’t help himself when his pink tongue came out and licked the King's big, cold thumb. This only earned him an amused huff from the King and for the thumb he just licked to be pressed down gently on his mischievous pink tongue, his small mouth cavern filled halfway with the digit.
Dazed as he was, Shang Hua didn’t notice when the King’s face came nearer until he felt the icy breath on his face. He squirmed a bit in the King’s hold, grinding down softly onto the King’s large hand, thighs trembling as he pressed them together, desperate to be touched directly. At the edge of his vision he could see a soft glow coming from under his light coloured robes, the luminescent freckles there glinting as a reaction to his turbulent but positive feelings. He knew logically that the freckles on his cheeks were glinting too, but his eyes don’t really perceive that ‘glow’ unless it reflects off something, something like his King’s beautiful eyes.
How sad that he couldn’t really focus all that well right now, there was only the King.
Mobei-Jun’s thumb backed out of his mouth, but Shang Hua’s tongue followed it out, trying to have that comfortable cold back in his mouth. Sadly, the King's thumb settled firmly on his kin, keeping his jaw open. Shang Hua still kept his tongue stretched out, too dazed to think about how desperate (stupid) he was looking.
“Swallow.” The court word of the King rang out in the office and shortly afterwards Shang Hua felt some cold substance landing in his outstretched tongue, it was only seconds later that his dazed brains registered the metallic taste and the Kings bleeding lower lip, but by then it was too late. Shang Hua was already swallowing the King’s blood.
A brief cribble under his skin took over his body until suddenly the eternal cold of the Northern Palace wasn’t that bothersome anymore and the King’s icy breath felt normal, warm even. Said King's hand moved from his face, down to his slim waist and made itself at his belt, swiftly opening it and letting the fabric slump a bit before taking it off completely. Meanwhile Shang Hua began panting as his body finally had enough warmth to show its arousal, the cold no longer being a hindering factor.
His skin heated up, flushing pink in certain places as he got overwhelmed by his pure want. Nothing could compare to how he felt. Even as the King began disrobing him, big clawed hands gently maneuvering him, Shang Hua was a dazed, desperate mess. It felt like lava was running through his veins, pulsing and burning with infinite want for the royal crouching before him.
One way or another, he found himself lying on the floor, body only covered by his thin white under robes. The King’s clawed hands wandered under his top, big digits gently caressing his fragile skin as the fire in his belly began to slowly burn higher and higher. Shang Hua was hyper aware of any skin contact the King made with him, burning him with want.
As his mind reeled and somersaulted to comprehend the favourable situation he found himself in, Shang Hua’s body shivered from suppressed instincts. He couldn’t touch, he could not give into his desire of touching the King. Touching anyone from the Royal family was an unspoken death sentence, but was it still one when the royal touches you first?
Cool air suddenly touched his chest as the thin fabric of his under robes was parted, pink nipples being exposed to the hungry eyes of the Ice monarch above him. The touch of callused skin against his soft moldable one was exquisite, fire flared underneath his skin, the all consuming haze of arousal leaving him dazed and pliant as the King played with his body.
The King's head lowered, icy but warm feeling breath flowing over the small mounds of his tits and then he felt a wet sensation on his nipple, the King's tongue lapping hungrily at the small mound, making the smaller demon moan and mewl. Shang Hua’s cock throbbed, the chubby thing drooling pre-cum against his flat belly as his hips squirmed, searching for friction. His asscheeks were wet with sticky, sweet smelling slick, his pink little hole gushing out as if there was no tomorrow as thin write fabric stuck uncomfortably to his skin.
Lips wrapped around his other until-now-abuse-free nipple, suckling hungrily, making him pant, his hands coming up to clutch at the King's silky hair, desperately holding on and arching his back to push his small tit harder against that delicious suction. The cushy flesh of his tit felt so good then, the King‘s mouth sucking mercilessly on it as he squirmed and trashed around, it was a sensation he never wanted to lose.
Even as claws ripped through his pants and left them in tatters, even as clawed fingers slicked themselves up with the wetness on his asscheeks, Shang Hua couldn’t stop himself from tugging on silky locks and desperately pushing his tit into that delightful mouth.
The slick sound of someone masturbating with some kind of lube was faintly heard above the cacophony of his desperate moans and mewls, but Shang Hua had no time to think about it, because the King was drawing back from his chest and the only thing he knew in that moment was despair, a small cry leaving his mouth.
But the King's attention wasn’t exactly on him anymore, icy blue eyes were looking down at where a clawed hand was moving up and down on a franckly frightening looking cock. It was big with bulging veins, a dark blue flush was over the whole length. Even in the King’s hand it was clear how truly massive it was.
A dizzy feeling took over him, the lust in his body intensified to unknown highs and suddenly Shang Hua wasn’t even thinking about how he would strain to fit that monster of a cock inside his body, too busy panting and clenching his hole in anticipation for the immense stretch of his insides that was surely to follow. He knew this was the King's blood at work, and Shang Hua was immensely thankful that the king thought to even think about his pleasure.
Holding still so the King could line up his cock with Shang Hua’s hungry hole took more willpower than he would ever admit, but he did it, hips trembling and globs of sweet slick gushing out of the pink depths.
A wail left him as his entrance was slowly breached, white hot pleasure beginning to flash in his head, overwhelming him as his body was fed more of that heavenly cock. He trembled all over, the clawed hands of the King completely encircling his thin waist for more hold as his belly began bulging from how big the king’s cock was. Shang Hua weakly trashed his head from side to side, small hands scrambling for purchase on the floor as his wide eyes looked up at the ceiling, unseeing.
It seemed like an eternity until his plump behind met the king's pelvis, hole stretched thin and insides not tearing thanks to the King's masterful use of the blood he put inside Shang Hua’s body only minutes prior. He still felt impossibly full, mind in a happy haze as his body clenched contently around the massive cock obscenely bulging out his once flat stomach. A slack smile dominated his face, hazy eyes looking up at the regal face of the King in adoration as powerful hips grinded that monstrous cock deeper inside his guts, sending sharp zaps of pleasure to his overwhelmed brain.
Suddenly, the King sat up, clawed hands gentle as the King held the smaller demon's slack body up on his waist and back. And then the King was walking somewhere, but Shang Hua wasn’t sure where, he was too busy moaning as the cock inside him moved and jostled until the king sat down somewhere and all that delicious cock was inside him again, his plump ass sitting neatly on the King's lap.
He slumped forward into the King's chest, hole fluttering happily around the massive cock, thighs stretched wide over the king's hips as clawed hands wrapped around them, just under his plump ass. Shang Hua could feel the King's chest heaving, heavy gushes of air skimming his head as he was lifted off his delightful treat and then slowly lowered down again.
It was torture, it was everything he needed and never knew he wanted.
So he sang a hymn in moans and Mewls for his King, letting his voice tell the King what his actions never could convey as the King took his pleasure from Shang Hua’s body, laying his small form down on the sturdy surface of the desk and pounding him with vigour, the slap of skin on skin heard loud and clear in the room.
He wailed and trembled, body an instrument the Northern King played masterfully with increasing velocity, small hands holding fast onto bulging muscles as his soft insides were plowed like a fertile field of land, the heavy balls of the King slapping against his plump behind, ready to grow healthy little seedlings.
And maybe that’s what he was, a fertile field ready to grow the King's first heir, plowed until he was perfect to receive the honour of growing the Kingdom’s next ruler. Shang Hua could find nothing wrong with that, his mind hazy with happiness and adoration, wrapped up in impossible amounts of pleasure as his own creation fucked into him.
This was everything, everything he’d ever wanted. Who needs a job when they can lay on their backs and have the perfect male specimen plow them as if there was nothing more important in the world?
No one, no one! My King is everything, so handsome, so perfect! He is-
“MY KING!”
He wailed out his release, small cock spurting thin white sperm as his hole squirted around the King’s cock, spasming wildly even as the King continued plowing his insides.
Oh.
Oh.
He wouldn’t come out of this until he was unable to walk, was he?
Shang Hua sighed in exhaustion as he leaned back against his King's chest, letting gentle clawed hands clean away any grime and sweat he picked up while they were once again in the throes of their passion.
Sitting in the water, nearly being cradled by his husband's whole body as gentle hands again lingered on his round belly, Shang Hua thought back to a few months back. His field had been plowed and seeded thoroughly, again and again, and once again until he was even more of an incoherent mess than he already was, hole overflowing with the King's royal sperm and stomach bulge one of sperm rather than of the King's unfairly big cock.
He was happy, round and pregnant as he was. He wasn’t only surviving anymore, he was living, laughing and loving. He was happy, so freaking happy.
Shang Hua was in love and he hoped the rest of his days would be spent just like this, with happy laughter and gentle kisses throughout the day, carnal passion taking over in the night.
He never thought he’d get this, but now here he was, months later. Elevated from a measly apprentice of the Royal tailor and straight into King Consort of the North, adored by the masses for carrying the next Heir of the Kingdom.
A rumble on his back brought him out of his thoughts and the King's deep voice rang out near his ear. “What is this King’s Husband thinking about again?”
Brown doe eyes looked up and Shang Hua tilted his head just so, knowing how irresistible he looked for his King. “Ah, My King, this one is just happy to carry your child!” His freckled cheeks flushed a gentle red as his lips were caught in a gentle kiss by his much larger husband, big clawed hands settling on his hips. “A-Hua thinks too much, this King will always give him what he wants.”
Shang Hua flushed a deeper red, hands fluttering before him as he again became a flustered mess because of his husband's words.
Ah, My King! Have mercy on my poor heart!!!