Queen Yavara Ch. 55

My fingers worked between my thighs, each digit slick with my nectar as it dribbled into the puddle I was forming between my knees. My knuckles rolled in series, driving each member into me, pressing against my front and back sides to feel the tandem of my erogenous center, and her tongue's pressure against my fingers. The quaking was rising with me, the tumultuous spasms coursing through me. I was so close. Kiera's breathing became labored; her cock began to pulse wildly; her pussy began to clench around my molesting digits. I was so close. I mewled desperately around Kiera's cock, and swallowed continuously, drawing her deeper, massaging her stiff length with my consuming muscles. I could feel how she radiated into me, the preeminence of her fountain roiling through her loins, her delicious nectar ready to burst. I was so close. My anus opened loosely around my little sister's tongue as she kissed it sloppily, lathering every surface with her swirling appendage, pressing and prodding with the wet, pliant tip, finding my reactive spots. An ecstatic lassitude began to permeate from my rectum, comingling with the surging in my loins. I was so close. My breath was short and rapt, my body bucked and swayed. My mind was a fever of sensation, awash in the traffic of signals that enslaved me. Suck, fuck, spread, open, take. They were inside me, violating my tender channels, desecrating my sanctity. The sweltering inner-flesh was contracting in glee, spurred into tormented ecstasy by their merciless invasion! I was so close, I was so close, I WAS THERE!

Kiera burst down my throat, and held me fast against her crotch as I fell into an orgasmic arch, my crotch touching my robes, my back curving violently behind me to give access to my little sister's ravaging tongue. I sobbed stupidly around the cock in my throat, and orgasmed like a fountain, finally ruining my robes. Yavara sucked my anus as I came, drawing the pressure into her mouth, pulling the sensations to the surface until they were screaming through my synapses, and I was bucking like a wild horse just to shove her face deeper into my ass. She feasted upon me through it all, ever-gluttonous in her consumption of my most disgusting part. I hissed and croaked through it all, and finally, I was released.

Nothing happened. I felt no metamorphosis, nor surge of power. My masturbating hand confirmed that I was still completely female. Yavara parted from my anus with a satisfied smack of her lips, and Kiera pulled out of my throat, leaving a trail of cum to wet my palate, and dribble from my quivering lower lip. I pitched forward onto my hands. I was suddenly very aware of how cold it was. The sweat that glistened from my skin chilled me, and the air was dry and sharp. Someone was asking a question above me, but I didn't discern the words. It hadn't worked. Not only did I not become the Dark Queen, but I didn't change at all. Zander really was just an old sentimental fool. Kindred spirits; how did I fall for that sappy bullshit?! How could I let myself feel hope?! I'd ruined my blissful schadenfreude with it when I'd already made peace with my death, and now my last days were going to be spent in despair!

"Brianna?" My sister's voice asked from above.

"Don't worry about her," Kiera laughed, hoisting me into her arms, "I'll get her something to sober her up."

"I've got it." Yavara said, and touched me at the nape of my neck. A great warmth spread from her touch. It suffused with my muscles, loosened the knots in my back, unwound the taut swaths of sinew, and made me gelatinous where I'd been rigid. She'd cast scores of healing spells on me before, but none had been so thorough as this. She'd wanted me alive, not comfortable. I felt every strain and protrusion ease back into liquid normalcy, and I shuddered with the relief of it. I hadn't realized how much pain I'd simply been registering as background sensation.

"Oh my god, Brianna!" Yavara gasped, "You were in really bad shape! How much did you do?!"

"Like Kiera said, enough to dust a ski slope." I muttered into Kiera's breast, suddenly very tired.

"Let me check to see if the baby's fine."

"She's fine." I said, catching Yavara's hand. "I just felt her kick."

I made eye-contact with my sister for the first time. Never in my entire life had I seen her give me a look of compassionate concern before. I hardly recognized her with the expression on her face. I had to suppress the urge to cringe when she brushed the hair from my face, and slid the strands behind the point of my ear.

"Don't give up just yet." Yavara said, "I need all of you to stay strong for just a little longer."

"Have you decided what you're going to do?" Kiera asked.

"I'll do whatever it takes." Yavara answered with a rueful smile. She took me gently by the back of the head, and brought my lips to hers. I tasted my vile flavor in her mouth, and slid my tongue along hers to taste more of it. Our lips wrapped and smushed sensually, and our noses breathed evenly. She held the kiss for a very long time. When she parted from me, she did so with her hand resting on my chin, holding my face up. Her gaze was scrutinizing, almost suspicious.

"Yavara?" I asked.

"You've never kissed me like that before." She muttered.

I grinned to mask my terrified grimace. "Did you like it?"

"Immensely," she said, studying the shape of my mouth carefully.

"Don't I get a kiss too?" Kiera asked, shoving herself between us. She grabbed Yavara's head, and plunged her tongue into Yavara's mouth, and all of my little sister's suspicion washed away. She indulged in Kiera's kiss for a long time, then separated with a smile.

"Wow," she said, "what did I do to deserve that?"

"What do you mean?" Kiera laughed, grazing Yavara's face, "Don't you always deserve that?"

Yavara looked genuinely touched. Her cheeks flushed a little, and she tucked her chin bashfully. "Oh gosh, Kiera, you're making me all mushy inside." She tittered.

"I might've slipped some ketamine on your tongue."

"You didn't!"

"Better go rinse and spit before it gets into your system!"

Yavara giggled, and launched herself into the sky. Kiera watched her go, then hocked, and spat onto the street. I just stared up at the empty sky, feeling like the stupidest person in the world.

"I can't believe I actually believed that old bastard." I muttered.

"Hmm?" Kiera looked at me confusedly, then laughed, "You can't transform from your asshole, dipshit!"

"I can't?"

"I know it's easy to forget, but that fun little hole back there is not a sex organ. To become magically transgendered, your reproductive organs have to be changed, right? The only thing you're reproducing with your asshole is—"

"But didn't Yavara begin her transformation through anal sex?"

"And she finished it by getting cervically plowed by Alkandi herself. Some women can come without even touching themselves, the lucky sluts. If Yavara were to read them an erotic novel while they did it, would they transform? No. There's a science to it."

"Of course." I sighed, "I should've seized the opportunity, but I froze up like a goddamn amateur! I ruined everything!"

Kiera did another bump of coke off her wrist, and looked at me confusedly. "What do you mean?"

"I'm not going to get another chance like that. I blew it."

She snorted, and giggled. "Do you have any idea who you're pretending to be right now? If you wanted to, you could walk up to those two ogres over there, and politely ask them to fight each other to the death for your amusement, and they'd do it with a smile on their faces. You're a hybrid of Alkandra; if you want to fuck the Dark Queen, you just have to knock on her door."

"That's it?"

"It's that easy." Kiera winked. "You know what they say, fortune favors the bold, and Lady Luck is a total slut. So go up there and gamble with your little sister's pussy, you evil, murderous bitch."

"You're going to let me go do it on my own?"

"That's right."

I gulped. "You're... you're not coming with me?"

Kiera giggled, and patted my head affectionately. "D'aw, do you need me to hold your hand? My job was to chaperone you to the castle. Now, by job is done."

"But—"

"Leveria, if you think I'm gonna be anywhere near you when Yavara finds out what you tried to do, then you're as crazy as she is. So have fun dying! Bye!"

Kiera planted a kiss on my lips, and strolled away without a look back. I turned around, and looked up at the imposing spires of Castle Alkandra. Of course she'd be at the top of the tower. Between me and her, were twenty floors of castle, all packed to the gills with monsters preparing themselves for an impossible battle, and all of them knew Brianna. All of them knew me too; the queen who had massacred every single brother, son and father who had enlisted in Yavara's horde. The things I'd experienced in the arena would be child's play to what would happen to me if I was caught.

"You with me, Elena?" I asked the sky. I didn't know why I did it; I didn't believe in an afterlife, but for some reason, I felt her in that moment, and she gave me the peace of mind to take two breaths through my mouth, let them out through my nose, and step into the shadow of Castle Alkandra.

ZANDER

"You're not going to help her?" Titus asked as we watched Leveria step through the castle's double doors.

"She needs to do this on her own."

"What? Why?!"

"If she truly is the Dark Queen, she'll get through it. If not..."

Titus chuckled.

"What?"

"I once knew a man named Rodger. Rodger was the best boxer in Ardeni Dreus for five years straight. He was the undefeated bareknuckle champion until one day, he drank a little too much the night before the fight, and lost the bout on a decision. He didn't get knocked out, mind you, but his punches were just a little too slow, and his dodges were just a little off. He was enraged with himself. His opponent was his lesser, and everyone who watched the fight knew it. That day, Rodger resolved to—"

"Is there a point to this story?"

"There is, if you'll let me make it."

"Please do."

"Rodger resolved to never drink again. He was still in the best shape of his life, and there wasn't a fighter out there who could hope to match him. But you see, Ardeni boxing rules are such that everyone—even former champions—must go through the tourney to face the current champion. So, Rodger set himself to kicking the shit out of every scrub in Ardeni on his way back to glory. The tournament was where he belonged anyway; fighting tooth and nail in the rough bars and clubs of Ardeni Dreus's underbelly. He was in his element. He was a god among men. The very first match, he faced-off against a boy who barely had a hair on his chest. The lad was practically pissing himself. When the starting bell tolled, Rodger tripped and broke his neck. The end."

"That's one hell of a story, Drake, thank you."

"You see the point though."

"Yes," I sighed, "I see it. I'll go help her."

Zander, Titus, what the hell are you two doing just standing around?! Yavara's voice rang in our heads. I glanced up at the top of the tower to see her tiny silhouette in the window, Zander, get back on the wall! Titus, get back in the streets! Do I really have to come down there and micromanage you two?!

Titus and I looked at each other. "She'll be fine." I mumbled, and went back to my post.

YAVARA

I turned away from the window, and puzzled over the map of Tenvalia. I traced my finger from Alkandra, to Bentius, then back to Alkandra. The full journey would take me a day. One day to commit an unspeakable atrocity. I had promised Leveria I would do it. I had meant it too, but when it came to the actual doing of the thing, I found myself hesitant. As I pondered the familiar rivers and tributaries of the Highland Basin, I became awash in old memories. Memories of a woman who no longer existed. She hadn't died, for she still looked through my shining eyes, and spoke with my breathing lips, but she was not there anymore. The memories she had meant very little to me, but I knew they were precious. Like a useless novelty item found in an old box, it wasted the space that it occupied, but within it, there was a piece of me—perhaps a dead piece, but one that I could not cast away.

"If I fly over that army, they will turn around to chase me." I muttered, tracing the route back to Bentius, "It will take them four days at least to get back to the capital. I'll wait outside the walls then. Just sit there in plain view of everyone, and force Ternias to negotiate. He's a coward. He'll blink first. I hope." I turned my attention back to the symbol that represented Alkandra, then drew my eyes to Ardeni Dreus. "Arthur has already committed to nothing less than my annihilation. He won't stop until the last of his ships is sunk. Even Zander can't handle five-hundred Lowland mages on his own."

I placed my finger onto the edge of the Great Forest. "My only hope is that Arbor can delay the Highlanders so that I can defend Alkandra against the Lowlanders, survive, then force the Highlanders back."

I sighed, and let my finger slide off the map. God, I was tired. I just wanted to snuggle into a soft bed, rest my head against a cool pillow, and sleep for a month. I hadn't slept for nearly a week. Every time I closed my eyes, I dreamed of that memory of Elena—Leveria's memory—and I awoke with tears in my eyes. It wasn't rage I felt anymore, but a cold grief, and a jealousy so bitter that I could practically taste it. How could she? After everything we'd been through? All those memories we shared... but now they were memories of a woman who no longer existed. They were cold and lifeless without her, my last link to that person I'd been. Memories that were carried alone were like stories that couldn't be told again. They just sat on the shelf of my mind, collecting dust. But then why did it still hurt so much? The hole she'd left in me was yawning and bleeding, so deep that it faded into cavernous darkness. Leveria's pain couldn't stitch it shut, for no matter how great her agony, she had still won. She had felt love deeper than her hatred for me, and that was the jealousy I truly felt. For as long as I'd known and loved Elena, I'd known and hated Leveria longer, and that hatred was precious to me now. So precious.

"No." I whispered to myself, "That's not me." But it felt like I was lying to me, a disingenuous reassurance from someone who no longer cared.

"Burn it all down." I whispered instead, flicking my eyes to Bentius, "Kill the memories once and for all." Even that felt forced. I just wanted to go to sleep. I sighed, and looked out the window. Brianna was making her way up the castle steps, and venturing slowly toward the door.

ELENA

"Left!" Mom yelled. I ducked, stumbled, and struck. The motion was awkward, but my blade parried the incoming strike before it landed. I scraped my metal upon his until my edge skipped over his crossguard and sliced off the knob of his wrist. His weapon went slack, and I slashed his throat.

"Right!" Mom yelled. I whirled around, stepped over the dying man, blocked the downward strike over my head, my arm held high to meet the blow. The energy of the attack transferred down my body, through my hips and into my feet, and I rebounded off it, pulled my cleaver backward, and cut into the man's belly before he could reestablish his guard.

"Left!" Mom yelled. I spun too slowly, and barely avoided being decapitated. Ducking under the swing, I twirled with my arms outstretched, too tired to swing with my shoulders anymore, and I imbedded both cleavers into the man's ribs.

"Right!" Mom screamed. I turned around and—cold metal went inside me. I cried out, stumbled backward, and slashed violently across and back, harrying away the men that surrounded me. No longer did I dance like a deadly viper between the ranks, but flailed in the center of them like a hunted buffalo, surrounded and isolated. Hot blood poured from the wound in my side, running down my leg. The cut was superficial, but it was a signal of what was to come. I'd exacted more than my fair share of death, and now it was their turn. They wouldn't be quick about it. They laughed and sneered as they shoved their weapons at me, making me move this way and that, forcing me to dodge and parry for their amusement. It was only a matter of time before one of them finally anticipated my next move, and gutted me to uproarious laughter.

"Stay behind me, Mom." I growled, moving with her back-to-back, our elbows locked.

"How can I not?!" She snapped, seeming more irritated than terrified.

"Don't let them get their hands on you."

"They won't have any fingers if they try."

"You know what I mean."

She didn't answer for a second, then muttered, "I don't think I can do it, Elena."

"If they—"

"I know what they'll do!" She growled, "But I can't do it! You'll have to!"

I braced our joined arms, and twisted her violently away from a spear thrusted at my belly. I grunted, catching the edge of it across my thigh, and I spun us back around to launch a feeble counterattack with my cleaver. The man stepped backward from the swipe, then pointed and laughed at my scream of frustration.

"Elena?!" Mom cried, "Promise me! Promise me you'll do it if they—"

"Fuck that," I growled, "we're not going out like a couple of pussies. Ready?"

"What?!"

"Now!"

I charged into the laughing and pointing man, and enjoyed a moment of grim satisfaction when I saw his face fall. My cleaver took off his gesticulating hand, then split his face on the backswing. Mom barely got her footing, and she wheeled around me in our elbow-lock, and dealt the man a final blow with a stab to the throat. It was our last act of defiance. The ranks closed in immediately, and the blades came out. In slow-motion, I watched myself being propelled inevitably to them, my momentum too great to stop with Mom's radial swing, carrying me ever-closer to the end; to blackness, and nothing. I opened my mouth, and screamed. I screamed in utter terror, void of all grit and valor, one step away from pissing all over myself. Mom screamed with me, our voices harmonizing, and we raised our weapons overheads to deal a parting gift to our killers.

The men before us were suddenly without their heads. For a moment, they just stood there like vandalized mannequins, blood flowing from their stumps. Then they collapsed like dropped puppets to reveal the beleaguered and bloody face of Sherman Huntiata.

"Come on!" He roared, and snatched my wrist. He hauled us after him, dragging us on springing feet through lines of soldiers locked in combat. I recognized a few of my own bannermen amongst the fighters, as well as Feractian's, Jonias's and Huntiata's. We raced through the lines of men, burst out of the congested battle, shot down the steps of the bluff, and stumbled onto the shores of the Bentius Bay. Our bannermen disengaged from the battle and reformed behind us, clamoring down the many steps that lined the bluff. The beleaguered watchmen receded into the streets of the district to regroup, allowing us a precious moment to breathe. When I caught my breath, I grabbed Huntiata's sweaty bald head, and planted a fierce kiss on his lips. Before he even had a chance to gasp, Mom ripped his head away, and plunged her tongue into his mouth. They parted with a loud smack, leaving the bewildered old lord blinking in the morning sunlight. He touched his lips, then gave my Mom an appraising look, and she blushed to the roots of her blonde hair.

"How?" I asked Huntiata.

"They came to my house," he said, mopping his dripping pate, "me and the missus got out of the side door you used to use. We have a boat down here, and we used it to sail out of the city. I got on shore, ran to the outer walls, and saw that no one was guarding them. Had to lash a harpoon to a mooring line and use it as a grappling hook if you can believe it. Got all our boys from the lower wards, and put them on the boat. Took a while to get back up here as we were sailing against the tide. Precious time lost. Where's Catherine?"