Queen Yavara Ch. 37

BROCK

"Please!" The elf scout screamed.

"I don't understand why you're complaining," I said as I loaded him into the trebuchet, "I'm returning you to your army."

"Hold on to this tightly, Imperial, and don't release it too soon." Trenok grunted, tying the parachute straps to the terrified man's wrists.

"It won't work!" He cried.

I knelt to his level, and put a compassionate hand on his shoulder. "Progress is made by silencing doubters, little imperial. All great scientists of our time were once called lunatics for their ideas."

"Great scientists?" Trenok laughed, "What calculations did you make?"

"You don't need any of that math bullshit if you just believe in yourself."

"Inspirational. Will they carve that quote into the atrium of the library they name after you?"

"Being a smartass just means you have shit for brains, Trenok." I grunted, and began cranking back the lever.

The elf scout closed his eyes tightly, and began to pray.

"God won't help you, son." I said, eyeballing the trajectory with my thumb, "We're in a new age of enlightenment. Put your faith in physics, because air resistance is your only savior now. Ready?"

And before he could answer, I stepped on the release, and his scream whistled out of earshot as he flew through the air. He became little more than a dot in the sky, then his parachute opened, and he splattered against the cliffside.

"Damn," I grumbled as the lifeless figure tumbled to the earth, "I really thought it would work."

"Wait, you did?"

"That was just the first experiment." I worked my jaw contemplatively, "Maybe he was too light. If we tie three elves together, that would be about the weight of one orc, right?"

"The queen could just lift an orc up there with her mind."

"As powerful as she is, her capacity is still limited. Besides, we can't be reliant on magic to solve all our problems." I cranked back the trebuchet carriage, and the ogre behind us loaded a boulder into it. I kicked the release, and the great engine flung the boulder end-over-end across the field, over the rift, and smashed into a ballista atop Mid Fort. There was a boom, an explosion of wood and metal, and the flailing bodies of imperials cascading from the top. A cheer arose from our ranks, and the line of siege engines released their salvo all at once.

Scores of boulders and flaming missiles arced through the air. Some exploded against the cliffside, some sailed clean over the top, but a few met their mark, smashing into the walls and battlements of Mid Fort, sending debris into the air. No more than a minute later, the Highlanders answered. Great rocks and ballista spears rose from the top of the cliff, then suspended in the air for a moment before hurtling down. I braced myself against the trebuchet, and gritted my teeth, waiting, waiting, waiting. Then, there was thunder on earth. The trebuchet beside me exploded backward, the great beams tossed into the air like discarded driftwood, toppling with the broken bodies of ogres and orcs. A boulder smashed into the space next to me, the impact hurling me to my back, leaving a crater five-feet deep in the permafrost of the tundra. At the bottom of it, the red goo of what had been my loading ogre was splattered all over the crater walls.

The ground shook with impacts for ten more seconds, then all was silent. I glanced over at Trenok, who was standing nonchalantly beside the hole where our ogre had been.

"Do you think that's enough for this morning?" I asked him.

"I'm done if you are."

"Let's see what the old man thinks." I reached to my side, and pulled out Yavara's mirror. I tapped it once, and Field Marshal Shordian's face appeared.

"Brock, you're still alive." He grumbled, looking disappointed.

"Did you enjoy the wakeup call, Field Marshal? Or did you not have your hearing-aids in?"

"I pass kidney stones bigger than the rocks you're throwing at me."

Trenok laughed at that. "Why can't all Highlanders be like you, Shordian? The ones we get are always pissing themselves."

"They're also not very aerodynamic." I chuckled.

Shordian grunted. It might've been a laugh. "Where's your queen? She's usually there to play catch."

"Your engineers are so bad at ranging your weapons that she decided her talents were better used elsewhere."

His lip curled. "Well then, I think today's a good day for a prisoner exchange." He walked over to a catapult, and turned the mirror. Jefrok was bound to a boulder, looking as terrified as the elf I'd launched. Shordian kicked the release, and the catapult swung. I looked away from the mirror to see a rock launched from Mid Fort, slow to the precipice of its arc overhead, then plummet. I heard his scream before he smashed into the marshlands behind us.

"Huh," Shordian grunted, "I guess you fuckers can't fly either."

I tapped the glass, and looked up at Trenok. We both knew Shordian was goading us into expending our ammunition. We also didn't care. I ordered all engines to load up, and we rained down on Mid Fort until the sun reached its peak.

YAVARA

It would take another week at least for the construction crews to finish the mirror relay from Ardeni to Alkandra, but the relay between the rift and Alkandra was almost done. It surprised me that Alkandi had never deigned to setup communications between Bentius and Alkandra. The structure was already there from the time of Highland imperialism; all that needed to be replaced were the mirrors themselves. I floated above the marshlands, and carefully positioned the circular glass in its apparatus atop the ancient stone tower. The mirror clicked into place, and I rotated it until I saw the distant glint of its reflection five miles away from the other tower. I drew a sigil on the glass, then palmed it. Brock's face came through.

"My queen?" He asked.

"I'm just testing the relay. How's everything going?"

"We hit Mid Fort with an extended barrage today, managed to knock down a quarter of its outer wall. Twenty-three units summited the rift, taking thirteen-hundred casualties and dealing around half that. We captured some scouts and interrogated them. They had no useful information, so we sent them back to their camp."

"You should have two-thousand reinforcements coming by tomorrow. How are the Ardeni orcs managing?"

"They're very good at dying, and since this is war, I guess there's something to be said for that."

I rolled my eyes. "Carry on, Brock." And I palmed the glass. I drew another sigil on it, and waited. After nearly twenty minutes, the glass finally illuminated, and a very confused and disheveled Adrianna appeared.

"My queen?" She asked. The room she was in had no windows, only the flickering torchlight illuminating her face. Though her cheeks were flushed, she looked paler than usual.

"Bad hangover?" I giggled.

"No, I'm just... just making sure Titus's clan feels... at home." Her voice was slow, each word seeming to come from her in a drunken purr. She tilted her head, her platinum hair cascading luxuriantly, and upon her elegant throat, I saw two small puncture wounds appear. She groaned as a mouth-sized suction spot formed around the points, and when she leaned back, I saw that her ample breasts were deformed as though being gripped by large invisible hands.

"She's been very amenable." Titus's amused voice sounded, "I can't remember having a more gracious host."

Adrianna's eyes rolled back, and her head fell upon an invisible shoulder. She was reclined gently upon the body she rested upon, and I was given a front-row seat to what was being done to her. Her little pink pussy was stretched wide by nothing at all, the ruby flesh within contorted like a tunnel all the way to her womb. I could see the thrusts being dealt to her by the way her reamed labia moved back and forth, and the way her cervix was methodically pushed inward. Then there was an indentation of hands on her supple thighs, and I saw by the angle of their thumbs that a man had just moved in front of the glass. Titus's invisible cock was slowly pulled out of Adrianna's pussy, and the female hole relaxed exhaustedly, the ruined petals closing partially. I saw the press of his cock move down her moist bonze taint, push against her pink coiled anus, and open it. A new tunnel formed in her pelvic floor, her rectum opening until the rim was white, her decadent smooth channel violated to the colon. The man in front opened the slit Titus had left vacant, and soon, both of Adrianna's holes were stretched to the bottom. Adrianna sounded a hoarse cry, her thighs quivering with spasms, her ruby tunnels clenching in delight around thick invisible shafts. Needless to say, I was furiously masturbating.

Someone picked up the mirror, and showed me the full extent of the debauchery. Seeing through glass rendered the vampires invisible to me, but I could discern their outlines by the positions of the hybrids' naked bodies. Furia was floating in the air, her anus and pussy stretched open, her mouth sucking hedonistically upon an invisible man, her breasts deformed by nursing lips, her cock spewing thick globs of semen down a translucent woman's throat. Eva was riding someone's face, her thick ass spread wide to accommodate another mouth upon her dirty hole, her cock turned white with pressure from where it was inside someone. She had a grip of invisible hair, and was driving her tongue into the vampire's mouth as she choked her (or him) with her other hand. Poor Soraya and Alexa were bound in ropes and leather, screaming around gag-balls as they were violated in every hole. By the shapes of their ruined entrances, I could see they were bearing more than one man in each. Their bodies were pocked with twin puncture wounds, and they were displayed upon the table like meals free to be taken by all. Even Alexa's small rigid cock had been fed from. Brianna was sharing mouths with Kiera as they rode their steeds, their pelvises grinding down, their backs arched to accommodate the men doing damage to their rear channels. Kiera pet an invisible head in front of her, and spit ran down her cock as its flesh was indented with suction. Faltia was hung by the arms from the ceiling, her legs spread in lateral splits, her back curved painfully in pleasure. Her ass jiggled, then her thighs, and I could discern from the way her body rocked in the air that many men were taking their turns with her.

It was like a scene from my own imagination. There they were, the children of my flesh, dancing their primal dance with seemingly no one at all. It was my vision for them, and it had come to pass. They were like me in every way, their minds corrupted like mine, their bodies warped like mine, their souls tainted just like mine. I wished I was there. I wished I could forget about the war, fly over to Alkandra, and be who I was supposed to be. In that moment, all I could do was push my fingers deeper, invading my ass and pussy, my thumb writhing against my clit as my eyes flitted from person to person. The orgasm came, and my mind let go of its aerial footing. I fell against the mirror with a cry, the apparatus swiveled on its gyroscopic base, and the feed was cut. I only saw my own reflection as I panted with ecstasy, fogging the glass with my expirations. When my breath eased, I pulled myself off the glass, and floated away from the tower. Yes, the scene had looked like heaven to me, but it was missing one person.

ELENA

My sites were set on Lord Sherman Huntiata. He had been Ternias's man before the battle, but as far as I could tell, that was only because Ternias helped fill his coffers. If Ternias's planned overthrow of the crown didn't go well in the court, Huntiata would ensure that the coup would succeed. Now Huntiata had lost his city watch to a strike, and so Ternias had lost Huntiata. If Leveria had the power she'd had before, the loss would've been a literal deathblow to Ternias, but Leveria couldn't afford attacking a major noble when her position was so weak. That made the lord the most prized whore in the court, and he was expensive.

"One million gold pieces." He said.

I took a long drag from my pipe. "One million." I echoed.

"The cost of my men's wages for a year, plus a bonus to ensure their loyalty." He sneered, "Plus a bonus to ensure mine."

I sat back in my chair. "How much did Lord Ternias offer you?"

"A paltry hundred-thousand. If that's all King Dreus is willing to give, then I do believe he's lost faith in Lord Lucas Ternias."

"It's more likely that he can't smuggle that kind of money through the Midlands anymore. I was told several caravans headed toward Castle Thorum were sequestered by Alkandran patrols."

"I am aware." Huntiata studied me carefully.

"My lord?" I asked.

"When Lady Droughtius approached me about you, I only had two questions for her: are you discrete, and what can you give me? I require discretion, because I can never be seen consorting with someone like you."

"A dark-blooded elf."

"Yes."

"And as to what I can give you?"

"The Lady Droughtius told me you have extensive contacts in Alkandra. How much money do you think goes through the city of beasts every day?"

"Tens of thousands?"

"My estimators believe it to be in the millions. The city attracts trade ships from the Lowlands, Bearded Peaks, Winter Isles, Hektinar, Terondia, and Drastinar."

I leaned forward. "The Dark Queen may be willing to fund you, my lord, but the payment would only come after the war is over."

"After the war is over, the Dark Queen will be crucified in the city square." Huntiata growled, "I'm no traitor, Ambassador, and you should remember that. I'll vote for an armistice, but this war will never be over until the whore is dead!"

"Of course," I smiled, "but there's no harm in taking a whore's money, is there?"

His expression softened. "No, of course not. Money is money." He twiddled his mustache, "But I need the money now. I can't wait until an armistice is signed. It could be years."

"Unless we sign an armistice now. We avoid the impending resource disaster and can prepare for another assault on Alkandra after the foolish Dark Queen has squandered all the advantages afforded to her."

"Aye," Huntiata muttered, "but it'll be a hard pill for many of the watch's officers to swallow if I sign an armistice before they're paid. It'll make me look weak, and these are good boys, Lady Straltaira, patriots to the bone. You've got to understand the optics."

I took another pull from my pipe, running through my dwindling options. "I will see what I can do with my contacts in Alkandra," I finally said.

"I will await your word." He said, standing smartly and walking toward the door.

"Is that all?" I asked him.

"Is there something else?" He asked in kind, donning a scarf and hat.

I set the pipe on the table, and languorously rose from the chair. Huntiata watched me with a perplexed expression as I sauntered over to him, my wide hips dancing in my tight-fitting cocktail dress. "I'm sure you've heard about the way I do business," I said sultrily, gently grasping his scarf, "most people end a deal in a handshake, but I'm a bit... unorthodox."

Huntiata looked from my hand, to me. I smiled, and slowly began pulling his scarf off. Then his hand was on my face, and the back of my head was driven into the wall, and before I knew it, his fingers were around my throat, his snarling mask inches away, his stinking breath filling my nostrils.

"You think I'm some ditzy faggot-boy looking for a little prick?" He growled, squeezing so hard that my face was purple, and my eyes were watering. "You think I would ever touch you?! You dark-skinned faggot bitch, you fucking whore freak! How dare you lay a hand on me!" He spat in my face, splattering my eyes, cheeks and lips with tobacco-browned spittle. He sneered at me, "You're disgusting, subhuman trash, the spawn of some festered demon cunt not even fit to roll in my shit!"

He was strong for an older man, his iron grip stealing my breath, closing my windpipe until I couldn't even squeak. My cock was hard as a rock, and my pussy was flowing with readiness. His shoved his other hand roughly up my skirt, and grabbed my member, squeezing until the tears were rushing from my eyes. It was agonizing, it was humiliating, and it was so great that I came right there, bursting through my constricted cock-pipe to unload in his hand. He ripped his hand back, and stared disgustedly at the dripping webbing I'd left between his fingers. He roared, then palmed my face again, smearing my spunk across my nose and mouth, getting it into my hair. Through the tortuous squeeze of my throat, I managed to moan. His face contorted in rage. He released my throat, balled his hands in my hair, and shoved me to my knees. I didn't need further instruction. I pulled down his pants, and he drove his thick meat into my mouth.

He was brutal with me. He smashed his crotch against my face, squishing my nose and lips against his pelvis, plunging his cock deep into my gullet. He ground the back of my head against the wall, holding himself inside me, staring down with eyes full of contempt. Then he began to thrust, pumping between the tight suction of my lips, piercing my throat over and over until I was glugging around him, vulgar slurps emanating from my mouth, gags roiling from my violated neck.

"Filthy fucking dark-skinned slut!" He growled, my cum stringing from my face and his crotch, my beautiful portrait desecrated, made ugly for his desire. I grabbed him by the ass, and he yanked back on my hair, and slapped me hard across the face. "Don't you fucking touch me!" He roared, and I desperately drove my hands between my legs, stroking my cock violently, finger-fucking my leaking cunt so that its wet squelching sounded in time with the moist contractions of my lips and throat. He pinched my nose, making it impossible for me to breathe, and the only way I'd get out of it, was to make him come.

I sucked with animalistic voracity, consuming him as he performed his abhorrent delights, coiling my neck around his plunging organ as it stretched my gullet. His face became red, his teeth bared. My gurgling screams rose in tandem with his escalating grunts and growls, and my voice sounded high and true when he ripped his cock out, and doused my face with his cum. I came a second time, my entire body shaking with the violence of it, my office carpet soaking between my legs as both my sexual organs released at once. He emptied the last of his juice into my open mouth, then slapped me again. I fell to the floor, my face so covered that it splattered when my cheek struck the carpet. Even as the stings of his abuse burned on me, the burning in my nethers rose, and I grinded my thighs together, moaning for more.

"Pathetic." He sneered, and spit on me.

"Will I see you again, my lord?" I panted with a smile.

"At the Noble Court, Ambassador." He snarled.

I grinned at him. "You know what I meant."

He shoved his cock into his pants, and took his coat from the rack. "Same time tomorrow." He grumbled, and walked out the door.

I peeled myself off the carpet, sighing contentedly with my new mask of spunk plastered to my face. I went to the window, and watched Huntiata greet his guards outside, and walk down the street. I knew he'd look back. He did, and he saw me, and I smiled and waved. He didn't acknowledge me, but he walked with an extra spring in his step down the boulevard. I sighed, and rested in the loveseat at the alcove. Not since Brock, had a man treated me like that. I'd nearly forgotten how much I enjoyed it.

"You got him now, Elena." I said to myself, "Hook, line, and sinker. He's never had anything like you." I ran my finger along my cheek, took a dollop of mixed frosting, and enjoyed the taste of victory with a smack of my lips.