The Choir

Rewards were another elite. They received extended training for they were the only women allowed to provide fulfilment to Partners. More, this was the only fulfilment of any sort that a Partner was allowed. Self fulfilment was a great sin and was punished accordingly. The Rewarding was applied orally, but with far greater expertise that the application of an Enhancer. A Reward could only be allocated by the Prince during a Performance, and was given if he felt particularly pleased or gratified by a Chorister and her Partner. There were always three Rewards present for a Performance. They were dressed by expertise. Blue, red and gold. A gold reward was rare, and highly prized by Partners.

As she sat waiting for her first Performance, the girl remembered what she had read. For each gold reward the Partner received a small gold button that he would sew onto his belt. She was searching through her memories, trying to bring the image of his belt. But her eyes had been drawn to his face. Or to a place that was below his belt. A place that fascinated her. Now her torment moved on to wondering if he had requested an Enhancer to kneel by that place, waiting to encourage him with a silky mouth. Surely, with the desire she had seen in him, he only wanted and needed her. A tiny part of her knew it was insanity to think such things, but this rational thought cowered in the corner of her mind, threatened and terrified into submission by the insanity itself.

The Choir Master left by the door they had used to enter the chamber. At the back another, larger door opened and the Prince walked in. She had never seen him. Few had. Stories of his size and strength were thought to be fables. She saw that they were not. This man, if he was a man, and not the god he pretended to be, was a forearms length taller than her own tall Partner. He was slim, dressed far more simply than she had expected, in a fine silk robe that shone like silver. His face was thin with a disfigured nose that had been cut in battle. She could not see his eyes properly in the gloom of the room, but they seemed to shine with obsidian emptiness in the flickering of the two fires.

The Prince sat in the Choosing Throne. It was ornate, but cushioned with leather for comfort during a Performance that could last for many hours. Next to it was the Bed of Devotion, now made up with sheets that matched the silver of the Prince's gown. She had been taught that once he had entered, the Choir should not take their eyes from the Prince. He gave no signal for the Performance to start and she stole a quick glance to her left along the row of Choristers. They were all staring at the Prince. She quickly looked back at him and saw that he was looking directly at her. Oh forgive me!

A soft, sibilant cooing from the white Chorister marked the commencing of the Performance. The girl's anxious thoughts collapsed immediately into a point of pure delight as her Partner's tongue reached up to caress her. The murmuring moans of twelve other aroused females joined with her own. Again there had been no words or instruction as to how this might affect her. She had not even thought about it herself, but now the sense of being one among many, one part of a greater thing, only amplified her own sexual activation. The earlier touch from her Partner had brought her close even before she had sat in the Chair. Now the flicking rasp of his loving tongue pulled her into herself, past the point of no return.

She closed her eyes and screamed in shrill release. Her orgasm recoiled insider her in violent fulfilment. As her waves subsided she forced her eyes open and looked at the Prince. His eyes did not leave hers. No other Chorister had yet Sung, although two seemed very close. Her Partner, again driven by her climax, renewed the speed and intensity of his oral heaven. There was no other sensation, only his tongue, licking, licking. Hot and wet. Stroking and sliding. Helplessly she uttered another anguished Song. And another.

Her eyes opened again. Dimly she took in the image of the Prince walking towards her Chair. She must be attentive, staring with respectful and devoted obedience at her master. But she was lost to the ecstasy of perfect cunnilingus delivered by her glorious Partner. He who was so expert, so obvious in his desire for her. She felt something other than pure sex. Love? How could this royal monster compete? He was close now, as another giant spasm gripped her lower body and pummelled her loins with more exhausting explosions. She was deaf to the other Choristers, trapped inside the endless cycle of building and destruction inflicted by her Partner's tongue.

The Prince was very close now. She must look into him, must not close her eyes. He leaned on one of the bars in front of her chair. She could smell his sweet, powerful breath. She was transfixed, impaled upon his stare as her Partner's devotions took her closer and closer to the edge. Surely she could not Sing without closing her eyes. Surely she must not close them. She was doomed. Her eyes widened in desperate obedience to the twin and conflicting demands. The black, smouldering gaze of the Prince bored into her soul as she came, her screaming Song washing over his face.

Her Partner, lying prone under her, must have sensed or somehow seen that the Prince was at her Chair, for his incessant caresses slowed and softened. She was gasping and panting, but this kindness allowed her some control over her mind and her body. The Prince pulled an item from a pocket in his gown. Gold shone as he held it up. A Reward Token. She knew that the gold Reward would now step forward and kneel over her Partner. He would receive his precious fulfilment to the sounds and cries of the Choir. The Prince was holding another token now. The Choice. He held it under her chair so that her Partner could see it. She felt her Partner releasing her from her sensors and her labial tongs. She had been Chosen. The Prince took a glass blade from his gown and slowly sliced her leather binds to release her from her Chair.

Her Choir Tutor had given her much instruction as to what would now happen to her. She would be led by the Prince to his Bed of Devotion. While the Choir sang its Songs, while her Partner received his golden Reward, she would Devote herself to her Prince. He was very large. Her Choir Tutor had tried to be kind in her description of the Devotion. But the girl knew that she would be pounded senseless while she Devoted herself to her Prince. He would demand her Songs real or false, with his huge thrusting. It would be many days before she would be able to Sing again in the Choir. It would be many days before she would even be able to walk.

They were on the Bed of Devotion. He lifted her over him with reptilian might and coldness, and began to lower her onto his rigid enormity. As he did so she shielded herself from the fear of her impending ordeal with thoughts of the gold coins for her and for her family. Her final feeling, before the Prince took her mind and body apart, was of the Choir, and of her Partner. She surrendered herself to demented love. For both.