King of the castle has more meaning than a title and vestments.

Date: 9/3/2019

I was king. I had a huge family. Three wives. Many children. We had castles, they were huge and endless, but we drove them around inside vehicles, like caravans as we had no home. We were unwanted by our homeland, travelers, gypsies, moving. We found ourselves in the suburbs for a time and no one wanted us there either. They thought us strange and immoral. I didn't care. I was a true king. Certain of my vision of the future I wanted to create. Content in my life and with my family which was everything to me. I had overthrown a terrible king and replaced the crown and office with a loving one. My love for my family as absolute. For a time I was lost, war kept me gone for three years, maybe five. My family had to get on without me. It was hard for them my children grew up and became more and more resentful of our outcast status and rebelled some. The schools and towns people were rude and uncomfortable around my wives, of which I had three. Some of our vehicles came to disrepair. And they despaired every seeing me again, thinking me dead at times. It was hard for them. But I came back, and I was more sure than ever of my course. We had enemies, enemies from the old country, and I plotted. Soon after I had returned my plot came to pass, I trapped all those enemies in a glass bottle, a huge one, with my old castle, the main one which held the throne of the old country, and they were aloft on the sea trapped in the bottle with us. They came to me, attacking, and I picked them off one by one. I eliminated our enemies. My vision was righteous and just. I steer my family back on course. My return signaled so much. My son had an epiphany, one I gave him, and began to act true again. My daughter's found their old rooms from years ago in the main castle I brought back with me. For some reason it made all the difference, like a finding of oneself. My wives were content again, although they had held the faith much better, and soon ignored or settled the disputes with the townspeople. And I put the three main enemies on trial in my throne room, the old king perched on my very throne for his trial, what was my throne now. I interrogated and questioned and pled with him for answers. I wanted to know why he was such a tyrant. I wanted to appeal to his better nature, certain there was one inside. I offered myself and my submission, naked on the floor at his feet. It was part of a ritual, one to become king. I had taken the throne but I felt strongly the need to do the ritual again, all these years later. He was angry I had taken his wife. He talked of blood coming from her clit and he was a horror, nothing got through to him. Once I was a supplication as per the ritual required, he deveated me of my ordination. A plate of good scales over my chest like skin and armor together. And a gold rectangular plaque which hung from my genetals. What was interesting was while I was king, and felt like a king, masculine energy and man in all respects save this one. I had no dick. It was just the nub of a female clit. The plaque hung from it and I felt the weight of that clot as the focal point of my entire dream, like it was stood to attention for a reason. It wasn't entirely pleasant. The tyrant king on trial was given a last chance and he failed. He took my submission and meant to take my throne back. He could never, it was impossible, my family was loyal and loved and things were the way they were. He could try but he would never succeed. I supplicated myself for one reason, the ritual require it, sacrifice. And he followed through without even knowing, he meant to castrate me, pull off the plaque and devest me of my kingly accoutrements, without even knowing it wasn't they which made the king. I knew the ritual would happen and I'd be made king again, like being born again, but he did not. He assumed me weak. I knew my enemies would fall after my ascending the throne once again. I wondered if I'd be born anew with a fresh phalis. A ritual of reclamation perhaps. ~ A side story played out throughout all of this. My daughters, three of them, began a sexual relationship, a triad. Of the three two were fine to look at but one was very very fat. She felt the pull of the relationship the more, the sexual strength of attraction was new to her and addictive. So much so she couldn't see they only wanted each other more than her and she was being used. My son took it upon himself to speak to her and my eldest daughter, not one of that triad, became filled with pity and slightly incensed. She spoke up in the great hall over supper about women's sexuality and self pleasure and reclaiming of the clit by toys, like a vibrating wand. We were mideval culture living in the regular world and thus technology wasn't unknown ot us.