You are Rion the Cruel - selfish ruthless arrogant ruler of the Kingdom of Tylar.
Despite your infantile attitude, you are a powerful mage, an ingenious inventor, and a master of logistics.
With your knowledge in alchemy and magical aptitude, you have created a potion of eternal life which not only made you immortal but also superhumanly fast and strong, making you a peerless warrior as well as a paragon of manly beauty.
A cunning courtier, for thousand years you ruled, mercilessly dispatching any fool who dared to plot to undermine or overthrow you.
Having experienced most of what life have to offer and more, you come to see others as your toys and the world as your playground.
"And so, the drought has destroyed much of our crop. Please, can you lower the tithe for our village, only for this year?" the man in dirty peasant clothes pleads before you.
You slouch on your overly opulent throne with a bored look on your face.
"Ha ha ha, no." you laugh in a booming voice and turn to your scribe "Raise the tithe for this village to double the norm."
"No, please!" the man cries to you in desperation, but you just lazily grab the handgun lying on the armrest of your throne and shoot him in the chest three times.
His body crumples to the ground like a puppet whose strings had been cut.
"Next!" you yell and nonchalantly throw the gun over your shoulder, making several retainers dive to the ground scared of accidental discharge this invention of yours is known to be prone to.
"I wonder why those people even bother." a well-endowed red-headed sorceress advisor standing at the side of your throne says with a cold look on her face.
"Shut up or I'll stick my thumb up your ass." you grunt.
"You eloquence does not cease to amaze me, Your Highness. You truly have a way with words." she remarks sarcastically.
"And I will have my way with you too."
Two of you stare at each other for a second, then burst into laughter.
As you do, two young girls in traditional clothes enter your throne room together. They look and are dressed exactly the same except for the hairdo - one has a ponytail on the left while the other has it on the right.
One of them makes her stride but a half a step earlier - with your keen eyes you instantly see who of the two assumes the leading role in their daily lives, and who follows the lead.
"Your Highness, Lord Rion." they bow to you deeply. Then one of them continues "Our village lays on the border of the Broken Wastes - the barbarians and wild men grew more and more aggressive as of late. In their last attack, many of our men, who bravely defended our village, have died."
"Including our father..." the other one adds.
"Can you please spare some of the soldiers to guard our village? Least, I am afraid, we will not survive another raid." the girl looks at you with a resolute expression.
"Hmm..." you rub your chin, pondering the problem, then turn to your scribe "I declare a new law - in My presence all twins must make out."
"W-what?..." girls say in unison, hearing your inane response.
"Scratch that, only female twins." you add "Law is legitimate from this moment. Punishment - death." you look at the two.
Poor maidens look at each other and then at you.
"Sister..." the submissive one says
"I am sorry... this is for our village." the other one responds.
They blush and reluctantly kiss.
"That's the stuff!" you clap your hands and pull a huge bottle of cider from under the throne, then start to gulp down the drink while watching two girls awkwardly make out.
"You." you nod at your sorceress advisor "Give me head."
"As you wish, My Lord." she rolls her eyes, but complies.
The lady kneels in front of you, undoes your belt, revealing your magnificent member, and starts to diligently fellate it.
"Oh yea, what was your inquiry, again?" you ask, showing how much attention you paid to their plea.
"Our village is under constant attacks and needs guards..." the girl says, as she stops kissing her sister for a moment.
"Ah, right! You!" you point at your guard captain, a beautiful young lady wearing a suit of ornate armor.
"Yes, My Lord?" she turns to you.
"No, forget that, I wanna bang you later. You!" you point at one of the city guards who helped usher the people inside.
"Y-yes sir!" the man shouts nervously and stands at attention "Your Highness, sir."
"What is your rank?" you ask while keep being pleasured by your advisor.
"Sergeant of the city guard squad seven. We are in charge of..."
"Ok, you are a general now. Go take coupe divisions and go to that village, kill all the barbarians and whoever else is the problem."
"Emm..." the man answers confused by your order.
"What?"
"Yes, sir! Your Highness! But... all?"
"AAAALLLL!!!!" you scream in a fit of unwarranted rage and slam your fists on the armrests, startling everyone in the room.
"Yes!" scared man salutes you and tries to escape the room to fulfill your order.
"If the bald guy won't give you soldiers tell him I'll personally break a brick over his bald head!" you scream after him "Now, where were we? Oh right, something about your father dying? Ok, I am your father now."
"Eh...?" two girls took at you trying to comprehend your comment.
"Your Highness, really?" your advisor pulls your manhood out of her mouth and spits a small stone.
"What?"
"You had a pebble in your foreskin." she looks at you with disappointment.
"How did it get there?" you ask.
"How am I supposed to know that?" the woman answers.
"Well, there is no one more acquainted with my schlong than you." you ruffle her hair while smiling gently.
"Is that supposed to be a compliment?"
"Damn, ordering you to be all crass and talk shit was a great idea." you smirk, pleased with yourself.
"It does take every ounce of my courage, Your Highness." she smiles and gets back to her blowjob.
"Hey, you two look tense. Want some?" you yell across the room to the girls, take a swig from the bottle and hurl it at them.
The twins jump backward, as to not be hit by the broken glass, but to their surprise the bottle stops mid-air, bobbing gently as it floats.
"What, you don't like?" you say as you lean back into your throne.