”“I accept,” the King answered.That was the end of what I had been prepared for, and I was surprised when a young page hurried over with a cushi...n and placed it between us. While I’d never seen it, the only thing I knew of requiring such a cushion was the knighting ceremony.“Is there anyone to speak on behalf of the candidate?” Charles called out loudly.The Captain of the Palace Guard came forward and answered. “I wish to speak for the candidate, the Earl’s man, on behalf of the deceased Earl. Her final posting had been as an Air Force General's staffer at the Pentagon.When she met Colonel Ansel and learned exactly what his black-ops project was doing, she knew that's what she was meant for. And Colonel Ansel thought she was perfect for the job.While the civilian scientists in the project believed she was just a 'personal assistant, ' her real job was to watch over the civilian researchers. Too often, civilians suddenly found morality or quickly succumbed to greed, either wanting to. "Get me another beer, Faggot!" One of them yelled across the room. He was drunk."Get me one too, Fag." They laughed at me knowing full well I would obey. My skimpy cheer leader outfit and five inch high heels put me in my place among these masculine, demanding jocks. The intimidation was overwhelming. Smacked on the ass every time I walked by. An endearing derogatory slur reminding me of who I am and what my role is in life. To serve big, strong, aggressive men. Fetching beer. Cooking food.. I can feel every vein with each stroke. My balls are so full, they hang so low, waiting, hoping, begging for release. I’m matching this sweet woman stroke for stroke. Each time that bottle hits bottom, my hand is hard against my balls. Her moans turn to gasps, her gasps to words. “Fuck me! That’s it; bury that hard dick in me now!” Her hand is a blur on her pussy, as mine is on my cock. I’m not sure how much longer I can take this. ‘Please cum for me, with me’, I’m quietly begging her. Her ass.