A Particularly Personal Physical
#4 of Raunchy King Smaragdos (Master/Slave Themes)
A Particularly Personal Physical
A nice little romp for
Nisabu appears courtesy of
*
"Meh."
The King's deep sigh made Nisabu's ears flatten. The young servant fox was spying on the black panther, really, at least tentatively so, standing behind one of the balustrades while the King stood leaning on the stone archway and stared out into nothingness.
"Meh."
"This is awful," a voice whispered in the fox's ear.
The young servant turned to look at the speaker, whom was a cheetah of slim stature, the kind the King liked having around for his viewing pleasure, wearing nothing but a skimpy leather loincloth around his waist. The young male's sensual movements were a treat for anyone caring to look for it, but now even his usually laschievous motions were subdued by the worry he felt for his King, and expressed it to his fellow royal servant.
"Yes," Nisabu the fox murmured softly to the cat by his side. "Something must be one."
"He hasn't even raised my tail in a week's time!" the cheetah hissed, sounding particularly distressed.
The fox's ears flopped even further.
"Oh I know, Joshua," he replied. It sounded especially uncharacteristic for the randy ruler to not fondle the sensual cheetah's firm, round, mottled butt whenever he had an opportunity, and no amount of tail-shaking and bending over and needy purring seemed to have any effect on the King, which was more than enough to make many of the King's personal servants worry for his wellbeing.
"But what is it?" muttered the cheetah. "He will never admit to any weakness or worry!"
"Mmmmeeeh."
The King's sigh sounded remarkable forlorn. The two servants looked at one another, determination shining in their eyes.
"We must try something," said Nisabu. "Before our King wastes away..."
"Yes!" rumbled the cheetah. "And we must do it soon!"
*
King Smaragdos was in his gilded study when there was a polite knock on the door.
"Enter!" commanded the black panther monarch.
The grand door leading out into the antechamber opened and a burly tiger entered, wearing the uniform of the King's personal guard, bedecked in splendor rather than martial dress, but none the less an impressive sight.
"Yes?" the King snapped impatiently.
"My Gracious Lord, the Court Physician Philipp requests your counsel," the guard spoke after bowing deeply for his ruler.
The King's ears bounced back and forth.
"Philipp?" he barked. "What business does he intend to conduct with me?"
"He did not explain himself further, my Lord, but he requests to be admitted to your gracious presence, sir."
The King scowled, but was unable to resist the curiosity that had been sparked on him - why would the royal physician want to see him, unless the doctor thought that there was a genuine concern that required him to speak with the King with such urgency? The thought made the monarch's tail curl into a spring behind him, standing by his window as he was and gazing into the gardens after having abandoned the cumbersome paperwork that was demanding his attention even now with its very presence upon the desk.
"Very well," he gruffed. "I shall see the Physician for his advice. Where is he to be found?"
"The Court Physician is in his quarters and would request your presence there at your convenience, my gracious Lord," the tiger guard spoke up.
"Fine," the King said. "I shall meet the Physician there at the next full hour."
"I shall have a page relay the message right away, my Lord," the tiger bowed. "That is all, my Lord."
"Yes, that is all indeed," the King replied snappisly. "Be gone now."
"Yes, sir," the tiger stated before he disappeared through the gold-leafed door.
*
"My Gracious Lord."
The lion's purr was as deep as the bow he bestowed upon the King once Smaragdos entered into the Court Physician's rooms. He was a man of some age older than the King himself, a lion of rich, supple mane and of gentle manners, one held in great respect by the entire Court for his skills in the interpretation of symptoms and prescribing cures often more helpful than the average ones. His stature was tall and broad-shouldered and his paws were large, yet they moved with control and grace, and his appearance was made ever the more impressive by the pearly white robes he wore to signify his role as the keeper of royal health.
His rooms were brightly lit with sunlight, warm, scented with soaps and incense, the walls occupied by his books, scrolls, calcinators, alembics, bottles filled with countless remedies, panaceas, bezoars, herbs, rocks, sands, bones, countless glass vessels of high quality on their shelves and making a fine sight for anyone entering the physician's quarters. Mysterious anatomical diagrams and star charts only added to the effect, as did the man's unnaturally quiet steps, upon his bare paws on the stone floor, while he greeted the King.
"You have summoned me, Physician" said the King, in a voice slightly too loud for the room or the intimacy its closed door and the cluttered nature of its furnishings suggested.
"That is true, my Lord," said the lion, "It has been such a long time since our previous consultation, I felt it was my duty to attend to you and your health, my King."
The King let out a sneering snortle.
"I am in perfect health," groaned the black panther. "Your concern is entirely unwarranted, I assure you."
"Then it surely would not be of any inconvenience for you to allow me, most graciously, of course, to assess the state of your present well being and observe if there is any need for any intervention."
The claws of the King's footpaws rapped against the stones of the floor while he hunched on his feet, but he did not storm out of the room in indignance. He had enough sense to listen to the advice of his physician, whenever one of their infrequent conferences happened. The King truly did usually feel to be in such fine health that he required very little intervention of healing kind.
"Hmmmpph," the dark male harrumphed. "As long as it does not involve any blood letting. I've had enough of lancets with your predecessor who insisted they were the cure for everything."
The lion chuckled in good nature.
"The lancet has its place, my Lord, but it is an old-fashioned approach," the physician spoke more seriously," I assure, I need not to examine your blood to make assessments, but I would need you disrobed and agreeable to voiding your water for me, for further analysis."
The King growled.
"I did expect that, somehow," he rumbled.
The King's apparent misgivings were not to last very long, however, for he removed his tunic and breeches in due time, soon presenting only naked furs for the lion who kept his polite distance from the undressing noble. He seemed unconcerned by such an appearance of nudity, even when he presented the King with a glass beaker.
"If you would ever so kindly, my King."
"I never figured out why you insist on this," said the King who grabbed the beaker and slung into a corner to do his business, wishing for at least a little dignity for such an act at the moment.It was noisy, and the acrid end result spread its scent into the room, when the glass was handed back to the Physician, who received it with a polite nod.
"If you would sit upon the table while I inspect this, my Lord," the lion spoke.
The King sat upon a padded wooden table, one sturdy enough to take his weight, while the lion settled close to a window and raised the glass beaker up to the ray of light so that he could examine the somewhat foamy, smelly substance upon its vessel.
"Hmmm...yes..." said the lion, tilting the glass back and forth to inspect the consistency of the royal urine," yes..."
"You always say 'hmmmm'," mumbled the King, feeling annoyed still by his sudden abduction into the Physician's quarters. "Is it a trade secret?"
"It might very well be, my Lord," the lion replied ever so softly, while he took a sniff of the King's piss, "hmm..."
"Anything you can tell?" the King asked impatiently.
The lion let out a little rumble, but it was one of annoyance.
"It is best that I conduct the entirety of my investigation before I give my diagnosis, my Lord, one must have a complete understanding of the situation so as not to make wrong assumptions."
"Hmmmmph."
The lion seemed to lose his interest in the sample he had obtained, and instead approached the examination bed.
"And if your graciousness would lie down and breathe deeply, and I might palpate for any congestion, as you may," the lion spoke, rubbing his paws together.
"As you insist," said the King, throwing a leg over the couch while he settled, seemingly ill at ease.
"It is a very important part of the examination, I assure you."
"You assure me whenever I must submit to the treatment of your paws," said the King, while the lion placed his paws upon the black panther's chest.
"And if you would breathe in and out..."
The King did, in deep huffs, and the lion let his paws ride upon the King's rising and falling breast. His expression was eternally patient and in complete concentration, it appeared as well.
"The thorax moves without a hindrance...yes...and the heart..."
He held his fingers over the beating thrum of the King's heart, and even pressed his ear upon the same spot for a moment, to continue listening for the thumping of the King's chest.
"Yes...hmm..."
The lion both pressed and massaged paws over the King's abdomen, poking and prodding and eliciting a few occasional rumbles from the monarch, though not apparently causing any true discomfort with his examination. The King watched the movements with mild curiosity, though his general demeanor was quite aloof and disinterested in the Physician's actions.
"There does not appear to be any undue congestion of the spleen, the liver or the heart, and the air flows appropriately in and out of the sternum," the lion said, "these are good knews, for it means that the productive actions of the inner organs are well balanced and unhindered by undue influence. The flow of the humors should not be disturbed for the possibility of dangerous congestion and malaise."
"I do not have...malaise!" hissed the King.
"Yet there seems to be some anger and restlessness..."
"I am the King," said Smaragdos with a smirk.
"Yes, my Lord, you are indeed," the lion spoke, "and the worries of such a powerful man are many, and they easily give forth a great dyscrasia that must be dealt with accordingly."
The King snapped his tail against the side of the table with displeasure and growled in his throat.
"I do not seem to be suffering from any such an ailment," he said.
"Yet it seems to trouble you...may I look into your mouth, my Lord?"
"What does that to do with anything?" the King said. "I would have seen a surgeon if I had problem with my teeth."
"A simple look, my Lord," said the lion, "to observe for any suppuration and to ascertain the flow of the humors."
The King did not speak, but instead opened his maw so that it gaped open, all the vicious teeth on display. The lion leaned close and without fear, looking at the state of the King's teeth, the gums, the pinkness of the skin upon the interior of the muzzle, and he even smelled the air flowing out of the King's maw, and seemed more wise for it.
"Yes, indeed...yes..."
The King clicked his tongue.
"Something to note?" Smaragdos asked.
"Your teeth are very fine, I must say," the lion said.
The King flashed his pearly white rows of teeth in a smile before he pursed his lips in displeasure at being poked at and inspected.
"I told you, I do not have sore or rotting teeth!" the King yelped. "I am perfectly well!"
"Yet you are showing definite signs of choleric dyscrasia, very worrisome indeed, my King," said the lion.
The King scowled.
"You should speak in terms polite company may discern!" the black panther snarled.
The lion nodded.
"Forgive my, my Lord," the Court Physician spoke, "it appears quite clearly to me that there is an overabundance of yellow bile within your body and it may be because of a congestion in some of the vessels conducting this vital fluid through your body. It is not unknown for this malady to affect men of great power especially during the summer when warm and dry weather instills even further an influence..."
The King seemed unhappy.
"Are you suggesting that the court is unhealthy?"
"I am simply suggesting that the influence of the excess of yellow bile is causing you displeasure and physical discomfort and that a more careful balance should be restored so as to ensure your further well being and joy," the lion said.
"Humph," the black panther cleared his throat. "A malady, you say? A miasmic intrusion, is it?"
"No, no, thankfully there is no disease at work here, but a congestion, is all," the lion said," and we may easily encourage the body to produce a more beneficial state of balance by removing some of the excess yellow bile and encouraging a better balance via a few gentle interventions."
"Grrrrrr..." commented the King. "Is it the lancet, then, despite your better promises?"
"Oh, no, my Lord, there is no need for letting your blood, a wholly different bodily fluid beckons our attention. The excess must be released from the liver so that the choleric dyscrasia will be removed and you may once again feel rejuvenated and with more balanced faculties of your being."
The King did not seem convinced, even with the promise of not having his vein split by the physician's trusted blade.
"And what do propose then? A purgative? A poultice of chopped eel liver and sheep eyes?" stated the King. "A tonic of peppermint, opium and arsenic?"
The Physician let out pleased purr.
"Your knowledge of the modern pharmacopoeia is impressive, my Lord, but I shall not have a need to prescribe such interventions at this moment, my grace," the lion spoke in reply. "It is but a simple procedure to express the excess of your yellow bile through contact with the liver via the rear opening of a man."
The King's ears perked up.
"Through the rear?" he questioned curiously.
The lion physician nodded, in his great patience and grace.
"A gentle manipulation will suffice to release all the unnecessary fluids and tension and return you to a fantastic state of harmony," the lion said, "I stand true to my words and my skills, my Lord."
"I see," stated the King. "And when do you intend to perform this...treatment to release my bile?"
"Right away, if it is of convenience for your grace, my Lord," the Physician said. "There is no need to unduly delay it, unless you are needed elsewhere or desire to forego this advice for your best health, my Lord."
The King pursed his lips thoughtfully.
"And should I refuse?"
"You can expect to experience further malaise, lethargy, swollen joints, lassitude, decreased appetite for food...and pleasure..."
The King snarled.
"You have frightened me sufficiently, Physician," the King's tail swatted his outstretched legs. "Do what you must do to relieve this...this congestion."
"Yes, my King," said the lion. "If you would assume the position then upon your stomach on this table, and I will perform the acts of manipulation required to bring forth the emission of excess bile."
"Emission..." said the King.
"At your discretion, of course," said the lion.
"If it truly is necessary.." the King huffed.
"Indeed it is," said the lion, "let me assist you, my Lord."
The lion removed a roll-shaped pillow and placed it upon the bed so that once the King settled first onto his haunches and then upon his belly, the pillow placed under his hips made the black royal posterior to assume a raised posture upon the Court Physician's examination table. Such a sight it made, the King, in his physical splendor, of thick black fur and strong muscle rippling underneath this well-kept pelt. His back flared into hips of obvious power, and the globes of muscle that formed Smaragdos' rear spoke of similar strength on his body, as well as the careful conditioning that maintained his form in such a shape. His legs rested over the bed, and nestled between the apex of his thighs was the base of his tail, still resting over the entirety of his posterior, and the roundness of his pouch containing the King's impressive generative organs of pleasure his servants held such concern for.
His Royal Physician eyed the shape of the rear hence presented for only a moment for now, knowing that he would have more time for such scrutiny once he would set upon his task of administering the prescribed treatment for his King. The lion moved about his chamber with many purrs on his lips while he gathered a few required supplies from his stores in the room, washed his paws in a basin of cool, scented water, and then took upon the task, the kingly black panther resting upon his belly with his ass propped up into the air for the Physician's inspection and care. The royal hinterior seemed relatively at ease on such a position, which the Physician noted as he approached, but did not comment on such a presentable state of the said bottom while he set his equipment down to the side of the King's sturdy leg resting on the table.
"Now, my Lord, if you would lift your rear appendage to allow me to inspect your delicate rear opening, so I would make my inquiry into your body..." the lion rumbled goodnaturedly.
The King chortled, but did the thing that was appealed for him, which was to raise the long, sinewy, dark-furred tail and curl it to the side to expose his rump quite fully for the lion's scrutiny.
"I do not usually get asked quite that kindly, Physician," said Smaragdos, as he arranged his tail to his liking to aid in his own relaxation.
"Discretion is part of my Oath to serve in my best capacity for your wellbeing, my Lord," the lion replied in his soft murmur of a bedside voice. "Nothing that passes between us behind these walls will ever be known by another soul. It is my professional, holy ethic."
The King let out a brief chuckle.
"Bringing religion into the sick room now, my Physician?" proposed the King.
"In the end, it is those above us in the heavens who decide on sickness and health, life and death," lectured the lion, "I am but a conduct, after all."
"Perhaps you might hurry up conducting, I will have to counsel with my ministers before supper," Smaragdos interjected.
"And now, simply relax, and let the air flow freely in and out...and you will feel yourself a new man once this is over," the lion mused, taking up his position behind the black panther. He dropped his large, warm paws onto each of the muscled half of the King's rear and squeezed, carefully, measuredly, to test for any residual tension he might find in his patient.
The reaction was a hitched breath, that was apparent, the lion feeling a roll of muscle tension passing through the King's body at the sudden physical manipulation despite the lion's previous verbal warning that he was about to put his paws on his monarch. The lion did not seem to mind the reaction, however, for he maintained the contact, and made it into a massage, stroking his fingers across the finely shaped, strong rear with a careful curling of his fingers. He applied only the necessary pressure needed to ascertain and gauge the muscular responses, in search of any further dangerous imbalances of humors in his King's body.
Smaragdos' royal Physician carried on his massage of the royal rear without apparent hurry. His pads dwelled into the darkly furred flesh. He wanted to ensure that the King would be reaching a state of maximum relaxation before any more invasive procedures should take place upon the King's body. The lion did not forget to intensify his stroking of the King's muscles, which involved the Physician pulling those ass cheeks apart, which allowed for a deeper glimpse at the taint, the silky balls and the King's hole beneath the base of his heavy tail, seen for only an instant before the butt snapped back into place on its own accord, with the lion's paws relaxing momentarily. The massage was aimed to make his King feel good and relaxed, without misgivings, or worries about any possible health issues the Physician had highlighted before during his diagnostic investigation. He had obviously put his faith in the lion whom now caressed his body, to encourage it to heal itself under the Physician's royal care, and the skill of his paws.
"You are doing very well, my Lord...simply stay as you are," the lion encouraged the King while he continued to massage the black panther's rump, "I am quite ready to begin the actual process soon, to release the congestion..."
He used his thumbs to part the King's ass cheeks once again, spied the hole between them, and smiled, briefly, to himself.
"I shall apply a small soothing massage upon your rear opening to make it more receptive for the massage once I am ready to proceed, my Lord, do not be alarmed..."
The King did not seem to find it fit to speak in reply to such a comment, but he did not protest otherwise, either, not even when the lion's breath brushed over his parted taint and the Physician placed his muzzle upon the apex of the King's rear. Whether it was part of the actual examination or not, the King did not know, and possible did not care, either, but the lion seemed to have his intentions in regards to it. He sniffed and inhaled and smelled musk emanating from the black panther's flesh. It was the scent of a healthy, strong male, innately virile, spicy and musky, clean in its own way despite being sampled from such a dark confine of the royal male's attractive body.
"Very good" whispered the Physician, while his muzzle still hovered so close to the King's rudely spread ass crack.
The King's ears flicked, seemingly curious about this remark, but whether he had the mind to ask any furhter questions, the lion silenced them by lapping his tongue against the pinkish eye of the King's rear opening.
"Hppphhh!" hissed the King, surprised mildly at the familiar sensation falling upon his sensitive pucker in these peculiar surroundings, and augmented by the ticklish cheek furs of the Physician's broad leonine muzzle.
"Mmmmhrhrhrhrhr..." purred the lion ever so soothingly, his paws now resting relaxed upon the King's ass cheeks, all the while his tongue lapped back and forth on the black panther's furrowed anus. The hole's contractions sent little sparks of sensations through the King's loins, and the lion felt as much, in little wrinkling of the hole underneath his tongue while it continued to slide across the King's taboo spot.
Round it went, the tongue stroking on the black panther's rear, hoping to relax his entrance into the zealous passage guarded by this muscled ring he teased with his tongue, as good a way of encouraging penetration and entry as any, and really unmatched in efficacy when compared to many other methods for such an action to take place. The Physician seemed to take no issue at performing such a thing, either, instead taking onto serving his King quite naturally even if it involved sticking his slippery lion tongue into his ruler's asshole to relax him further.
The King's eyes remained closed, and with little rumbles escaping from his throat while his butthole got tongue-bathed incessantly by his Royal Physician. The cares of the slimy muscle brought a soft panting smile onto his muzzle - a familiar state of affairs if any for the decadent ruler, but he was willing to submit to it even in such a clinical context, knowing it was only there so that the Physician would gain access into otherwise unknown parts of his body. The fact that it was such a sensual thing and caused his cock to grow hard and press between his belly and the soft paddings of the bed seemed like a relatively inconsequential adjunct, even if he throbbed and soon leaked pre-cum onto the Physician's sheets. Why couldn't all medical procedures be quite that pleasant, the King thought vaguely while his tailhole revelled under the relaxing, wet tongue massage continuing to take place between his gently spread buttocks.
A few quiet, substanceless minutes later, that were only interspaced with rumbles and purrs, the lion withdrew his sloppy tongue from the pucker he had painted into shade of glistening red and kept it clenching on its own accord so that there was a little parting on the very center of the curling muscle the tongue had teased quite thoroughly. It looked very ready, and a blow of warm air from the lion's lips told as much, when the hole seemed to undulate pleasurably under this further sensuous attack.
"Very good, my Lord," said the lion in a low voice, "I shall now begin to massage within and hopefully release the excess of yellow bile in the liver by reaching it from the rear...it has been known to be completely effective for this problem...you will not feel discomfort, I am sure."
The King seemed quite happy to continue lying there, butt raised and rumbling quietly. The lion opened a jar he had brought with him from one of the shelves and dipped fingers into it to cover them in a smooth, treackly oil, like honey dripping from the pads once he rubbed them together briefly and began to stroke the slick, herbal substance upon the King's puckerhole. Thanks to the earlier massage of a tongue kind, the anus had no problem in receiving such attention from the Physician's trained touch. The two digits stroked onto his hole, and poked past its tender rims, with gentle care. His other paw rubbed the King's rear to further the relaxation he wanted to effect, though the still, quietly purring black panther seemed not to mind having his hole messed about with in such a manner.
"And now to find the liver...and I assure you, my Lord, the discovery will be immediately apparent...yes..very good..."
The lion's fingers scissors about the muscled ring, attempting to gain deeper ground while he pushed into the King's supple rear. The silky walls of his rectum closed upon the fingers in a familiar attempt of resistance, though the supremely slippery lubricating oil and the lion's intimate skill in manipulating a male rear meant that the King's body soon gave up such attempts at denial and simply allowed the fingers to find their purchase inside his relaxed hole. He was in up to the first knuckle in a moment, and then another, still rolling and stroking in earnest to make sure the King was especially receptive before the true treatment of sorts was to begin properly.
"Remember to breathe, my King," the lion advised when the ruler's breathing seemed to slowly grow more and more shallow under the manipulation of his rear, "it is paramount that you maintain a healthy, slow flow of air to cool your blood...we don't want a further imbalance to occur."
The King's breathing rumbled up to a further intensity alright, but at that very moment the lion twisted his fingers, deep inside the black panther's rear, and jammed them into the spongy protrusion he found from the passage within the monarch's rump hole.
The effect was remarkable. There was a groan, a clenching of muscles, a lick of tension that made the King press his hips against the bed, his butt tensing while the indescribable sensation teased itself through him.
"Hhmrmrmrmrrr..."
"Yes, yes, my Lord, that is exactly...the spot...now...very...carefully..."
He pressed again, and again. Each push made the King groan, yelp, rumble, moan, making all sorts of rather non-regal noises while being subjected to this intense treatment by his very personal physician. The thrusting finger made his cock jerk and leak under his body, and his paws, before simply relaxed in front of him on either side of his resting head, clenched and grasped onto the sides of the table he laid upon.
"Ahhoooh..."
"Yes, that is the very spot, my Lord, we have found it, and you are now going to find the release to become quite wonderful... " the lion spoke intently, watching the writhing King from his vantage point behind him that allowed him the most perfect of views to the ways by which the treatment effect the grandest and most powerful man in the very realm.
"Hmrmrmrmrppooooooohhh..."
"Yes..." said the lion, "we've definitely discovered the source and location of the congestion...now to get all that excess bile...out..." the lion panted.
The King seemed almost delirious under the internal massage, eyes closed, his lips pursed and his tongue lolling out between his lips to some effect, his breath coming in deep panting puffs from his muzzle. The sounds he made were completely incoherent, and the cloth covering the table got to taste his claws when his fingers curled even further, his body shaking, nearly, tail flying into the air while his hips humped aimlessly, both to stroke his cock onto the mattress and to push his backside onto the fingers working such magic upon his apparently dangerously congested flesh.
"Just a little more..." said the lion.
"Aouuuuhhh!"
The air was suddenly filled with a new, intense musk, and the rapid clenching of the King's rear told the lion as much - the excess pressure had surely been now removed from his body, and continued to do so in sudden bursts of thick, viscous panther seed pouring out onto his white, clean sheets. The King snarled and panted in kind, too, while the lion continued to pound into the spot within the monarch his healer knew was the source of the King's moodiness and discomfort, and now, as confirmed by the heavy scent, such trouble would hopefully be a thing of the past. Yet still his insides coiled and flexed, and the musk intensified, telling the lion of his success as much as the very tired, slow panting and purring that was the final end result of his treatment.
The King laid panting for quite a long moment, seemingly unopposed to rest in a veritable puddle of his own making through it, while his physician rubbed his back and muttered soothing words and sounds under his breath to continue this full state of relaxation even further.
"I doubt there will be further trouble now, my Lord," said the Royal Physician, "it has been done and duly cleared."
"Hmmmmrrr..." rumbled the King Smaragdos, in kind,
The lion patted the King's regal butt, and smiled privately, unseen by the King.
"Very good indeed," he said.
*
Thank you for reading! I do hope you enjoyed the read, and I look forward to your feedback, whether it's comments, votes or faves - do remember that it all helps others to find these stories to enjoy as well!
Cheerio!