𝗛𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗶𝗹𝘆 𝗘𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗔𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗿 ❀ 𝙏. 𝙁𝙪𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙜𝙪𝙧𝙤 ❀

XI - Liar Liar Liar

The next morning you woke up in a state of panic, that strange feeling of waking up after having not remembered falling asleep. All you could recall was talking to the king for quite a while, a strange conversation—one that a loving married couple would have. Speaking of travel, daily living, and other things that revolved around domestic living. Not a conversation to be had between a tyrannical king and his reluctant servant girl.

He seemed to be invested in you, wondering how you spent those odd hours when not attached to his hip. You explained to him that you read.... read quite a lot. Mainly books about sex and despair, not because it was all that was at your disposal but because it was all that could capture and keep your interest. The king of course used it as a basis to make raunchy jokes about him showing you true sex and even being so kind as to spare you the despair.

The last thing you remembered was him commenting on the size of your chest. Claiming you were far too developed for someone your age, you often ignored him whenever he engaged in such tasteless conversation, but, (perhaps from the exhaustion that was slowly overcoming you or the sexual tension still lingering in the room from the two women he had just forced you to watch him have his way with) you responded just as provocatively as he did.

"What, you don't think they're real? I mean if you ever want to know for yourself out you can always just come and find out." It sounded less suggestive in your head—in your head, you had only invited him to talk to you more and discover more about you, but it came out as essentially a self-objectifying call for lust and for him to explore that chest of yours... well, at least that's he heard.

Now the next morning you've woken up with your hair in distress, the makeup you had on the night before had smeared and you had a strange feeling in your core. When you stood up there was a painful ache in your back— only then did you begin to panic.

Your first mind was to reach down between your legs— just to check for anything suspicious. And surely when you did, it was wet. Sticky streams of fluid coating the entirety of your lower half. For a moment you were sure your heart could stop in an instant. He wouldn't... he couldn't, you thought to yourself. There's no way the king would force himself on an unconscious little girl, such as yourself. He had nothing to gain from it, nothing at all, but perhaps that is reason enough. You had been saving yourself up until this point and it pained you to know that purity has gone to waste. Unconscious, unknowing, unfeeling, plucked from the bosom of rest and violated in your slumber. Soon the somber feeling deep inside of you transformed into one of deep rage.

You sprang up from the bed and immediately began searching for him, it didn't take long to spot him reading over what looked to be a letter in his study, that was connected to the master bedroom.

"How could you!" You shout in utter anger and disgust. The King looks to the young girl in confusion and a bit of shock, he couldn't recall the last time he had been spoken to in a way.
"Excuse me—," you didn't even allow him to finish before casting out your next outburst.

"You! What did you do to me last night?" You ask, nearing closer to him but keeping enough distance for him to be unable to grab at you.
"To you? Nothing."
"You're a liar."

The king's eyebrows raised and he tilted his head looking deeply into your eyes. "And what do you have to warrant this accusation of I'm guessing ... rape?" He questions, obviously curious in your response. He had now sat down the letter he was reading and turned his body fully to face you.

"I woke up entangled in your bedsheets with... a slick something on my lower area." You explain, your anger couldn't help but to falter in embarrassment.

"Interesting..." He begins, tapping his chin almost sarcastically. "...and do you have any pain? Specifically in your hips or lower back." His question took you by surprise. You expected him to cockily admit to what he'd done and leave you to spiral with the fact that you could do nothing about it.