Queendom 06: Hiatus

Ridge replied calmly, realizing something was bothering him. Did he know this girl?! Anyhow, he needed some assistance, so he screamed. "YASHIM..!! You peeping fool, get in here."

Yashim, who had been watching the whole thing through the cracks in the wooden wall, ran in and took position, holding down her thighs from shaking. Ridgemund, as usual, placed a wooden spoon between her teeth, so she could bite into something in case the pain was too much. He had seen girls smiling through hours, and crying out at the first prick. Pain differs for each, and he wasn't taking any chances. Elanor endured through it well, hoping the ink is something that can be removed relatively easily. She had no experience, nor idea, of body tattoos beforehand. Was she in for a surprise.?!

When it was over, Ridgemund wiped away the excess ink, blew over it once. It was well hidden to normal view, but in case one needed to inspect, it read underneath her slightly sagging left breast, her Domestication Identification Number as the newly registered pet.

::XIVLNR0601::

It was clean and simple. And burned like hell, for the moment.

Before she got used to the sting, if felt suddenly like her hole loins were burning. Not with desire, but with flaming fire, as the Queen almost spasmed, feeling a hot ring against her pubis. Both the men were surprisingly sturdy, gripping down her torso, making sure her hip didn't move an inch, even with all her strength. Elanor bit violently into the wooden spoon, it almost cracking, an animalistic scream of pure pain escaping from the depths of her throat.

She had no clue what was happening. And that made it all the worse, her heart beating in terror. As her glazed eyes focused finally, feeling the pressure of that wretched hot circle relieve from around her vagina, she saw Ridgemund before, in a full teethed smile, of wicked satisfaction. With a small circular metallic box in his hand was, about the diameter of his palm. And feeling a new depth of shame, Elanor realized that it was a wax box. A molding primer. And within it captured, in the still setting wax, a perfect mold of her virgin pussy. Enjoying her bemusement, he clarified.

"It's protocol Crimson, to take the mold of the merchandise. Especially for the rare virgin ones. The ones with actual preserved virginity, with matching molds, can be auctioned off a pleasure pets for ridiculous amounts. Now don't do anything stupid, and stretch out that pussy alright. It's Imperial property now..!"

As he walked away, to process the mold, Elanor kept convulsing, still feeling the slight burn on her nether. Ridgemund felt like cutting her some slack, some natural pain-relief the old way. Yet, on second thoughts, it felt odd. For one, the way his old friend treated her a moment ago. And two, well he wasn't a wretched pervert. It was his job, and he did it regardless how it made him feel. At any rate, he wasn't going to give the tongue, that too to a girl young enough to be his kid.! What else? He looked around.

Yashim still stood at her feet, his hungry eyes of nineteen following her breasts, heaving up and down with her breath. Ridgemund chuckled, and asked.

"Yashim, my boy. Is it true that you are the best tongue, south of town?"

"What?! Says who..??" It simultaneously startled and perplexed the young man, the look in his uncle's eyes.

"You dumb mule.. You aren't the only one that Grushenka welcomes to her bed.! She does me too, like half the town. Yet she can't shut up about you, and your gifted tongue. Now be a man, and help this girl out."

"What do you mean?" Yashim played dumb, his heart brimming with pride, at the comments his uncle meant as an insult.

Ridgemund gave him a crooked smile. But stopped suddenly and warned, his voice stern.

"Just the tongue. No funny business. This is royal merchandise now, and a virgin at that. A wrong move, and soon that tongue will be all you playing with. I'll be with Sir Belkin, finishing her paper-work. I don't need to see this."

Elanor just woke up from the pain, barely hearing what he said. Tongue?? What tongue..?! Where the hell is Bella..? She tilted her head around, seeing the shadow of Ridge leaving. Then she felt something heavy get up on to the table, it's heat right next to her thighs. What was that?

As she felt a hand grip her inner left thigh, Elanor started convulsing, trying to resist tied as she was, worming her way backwards. Particularly, the recent pain had turned her totally defensive, like a cornered stray cat. It was one thing to stay relatively compliant, knowing who was doing what. But now things were a lot blurry. And she wasn't having it.

Elanor felt the hand leave, and the elastic strap holding her temple down snapping from a side, releasing her head to move freely. Only that, she was already at the edge of the table, with the straps on her wrists and ankles holding her back, at its limit. And she realized, her neck was no more supported by the table, as her head flipped back, hanging from the edge. In fear of falling, she stopped moving any further, as she heard Yashim talk.

"Uh.. Please don't panic. And please don't kick me face."

He sounded naively young, and his accented speech had an air of helplessness. Almost making her give him the benefit of the doubt. Yashim was perfectly aware of the way girls fell into his sweet, non-threatening diction. He had even narrowed it down to a few key phrases, intonations and facial expressions.

"I'm just trying to help. Help with pain. See, I'm going to release your feet now. Please, no kicking."

It wasn't like she had much choice. Elanor stayed still, as he unbuckled the restraint on her left ankle. That didn't help at all, actually. Her leg was still numb and restrained, in that god-damn fetish stocking contraption, not able to stretch or move properly.

"I am going to trust you. I only want to help. So don't kick me face, as I take off this leather.. This .. what is this.? Stocking.?!"

My thoughts exactly, kid. Please take it off.

The Queen felt relieved as she felt his hands moving around, trying to undo the multiple straps and bindings on her left leg. There was a snap. Sound of a few knots being undone. And suddenly, Elanor felt her left leg stretch open. Her knee felt like it was numbing cold, with steaming water sprinkled all over. And once he peeled off the whole stocking, in an instant the blood flow started up proper. And the sweat coating her basked in the fresh air, a sweet cold sweeping up her entire left leg. It still stayed largely out of her coordination, as she could barely move her pinky at will, now.

It was such a relief, after all this time, that she simply laid back, her head still hanging down, hair undone and touching the floor. It felt so relaxing, like lying on the floor after a grueling practice session with Lady Adriana, collecting one's breath. Elanor stayed there, waiting for him to do the same to her right leg.

"Lady, I'm raising your hip now, to put support.."

Support?! What d'you mean? What support? She tried to take another glance, barely seeing the boy's face this time, him drinking a mouthful of something from a small glass container. Before she could figure what, her head fell back to its original position. Yashim emptied the bottle into his mouth, and tossed it sideways. There was a distinct sweet aroma in the air all of a sudden. Elanor helped raise her hip, as she felt a nice silky cushion sliding down to the small of her back. One more was added, this time right under her sweating ass cheeks.

What's this now.? Why can't he untie the rest soon? The Queen was getting frustrated, and rightfully a little worried, feeling his arm slide under her bound thigh, and grab her pelvic joint in a steady lock. She realized something was off, as his other hand gripped the left leg. Oh, no! This can't be good..

Elanor turned into that old cornered stray in an instant, convulsing her whole body, protesting blatantly, to whatever he meant to do. She didn't realize, that she was precisely playing into his hands. That this was a move he had perfected by now, like his speech. She put up a great struggle for a minute at maximum, draining all energy left in her body, all the while he hugged on to her pelvis like a bear, not budging an inch. By the end of it, all she could anymore was breath. Laying back with her head hanging off the edge, Elanor felt that exhausted. And she felt it, his warm breath on her unprotected recently burned clit.

Yashim pouted his lips, and began pouring out the mouthful of honey he had just taken, alongside her waiting snatch. She's not burnt, it's just her fear, he knew. But she could use some comfort in knowing it's just honey. That it'd help with any burns. And more importantly, the girl was reeking of dirt, and sweat, and piss. Not to mention the oily wax from a moment ago. If he were to dive right in face first, well, he could use some flavor. And boy, did he love honey.!

Elanor felt relieved, as her nose picked up the overpowering scent. Honey! Thank goodness..! It feels so heavenly against my privates. Why didn't he say so? That he was just applied the medicine.. I wouldn't have tried and kicked.. OH MY!

She felt it then, the warmth of his slippery tongue, grazing the creases of her pelvic joint. And she heard.

"Crimson..! Did you know you had a mole upon your left thigh. It looks like a starfish, a tiny, tiny starfish. Initially I thought it was just dirt, but.. umm." She shuddered in shame as his tongue slathered her private secret in his saliva.

"It tastes fine.. Not exactly your thigh though.. Maybe an inch down from your left pelvic joint.. It's very sweet and sensuous, such a slutty birth-mark huh?? Don't worry, it will be our secret." His tongue continued to do the heaven's work.

Ouch!!

She trembled, shaking her knees. Was it teeth, you damn cretin..?!!

"Don't worry Crimson. It's just a hickey, right next to the star-fish. With the Master's marking your skin, I thought I should follow suit. It'll look good by tomorrow. Here, let me lick you well.."

Elanor hated that he called it the star-fish. That was a secret between Barthomius and her, his 'dainty starfish' as he'd lustfully call, while going down on her, the very few times she convinced him to. Barthomius didn't enjoy giving oral pleasure, though he insisted on getting, though rarely convincing her. Unlike someone, who's practically dining in her hips.

Aaaahh..!!

Elanor felt her spine curve into a bow, as Yashim continued to tickle her virgin folds with his oral tool. She felt absolutely weightless a couple of times, her torso raising up, barely touching the wooden table, balancing barely on her elbows and that one good free feet, while the boy nibbled on the honey-coated treat like an army of ants.

It wasn't just his nimble licks, but a culmination of the whole night, that fueled the Queen's lust now. It all flashed in her mind, like flashes of a sweet waking dream, for what should have been a nightmare. Be it the snicker from that elderly guard, that she blocked out of her mind, looking down her bobbing behind as she licked clean his buddies dirty shoe. Or savoring the taste of the strings of spittle connecting her lips to the very baked Jezeb, right after he kissed her into a lungful of his finest Blue poppy smoke. Letting her fly through the night at times. Or be it the reluctance she recognized in her very loyal Mistress, right before she stepped on her Queen's skull, plunging it into that slimy soup-filled dog-bowl, just as instructed by her dear Uncle Belkin.

Yes. Not the Leash Master, but her very own sweet uncle. Who had been kind enough to fill her heart, with his final sweet kiss, before marking her skin for a lifetime of domestication. Eww..?! These are the things I despised throughout the night, especially that kiss. I hated that kiss, didn't I?? Well, if I did, then why am still leaking so profusely at the mere thought. Why do I feel like my ovaries are about to cream..? And what is that tempting scratch against my core..?

Seriously, what is it? His right hand is holding down my free leg, so it might be him fingering me.. But it can't be. Not with him licking me so vociferously at the same time, and boy, had he been starving for pussy..! It's been so long since I'd been properly fingered that I can't even tell if it's just his tongue.

There! I felt it again. That's definitely a poking finger, and a very stimulating one at that. But if he's not doing my.. Wait a minute.. Is he fiddling my arsehole..?!! Eikk.. But it's wrong, and unhygienic, and..

And.. Aaaahh..!!

Nngggghh.. ehh..

Elanor's left foot gripped the wooden table as best as she could, as she lifted her pelvis in a shudder, pushing it against the young man, while her mind focused on the blissful burst that released from her loins into his waiting face. It didn't take him by surprise, however, Yashim increasing the rate of fingering the girl's virgin asshole. None of these were firsts for him, especially forcing a squirt out of a tramp. A broken, beaten, willing tramp at that. He smirked at her with contempt, knowing full well that his big toe could have made her anally orgasm, had he been mean spirited.

Yashim looked up, wiping his face clean against her thigh. He had no way of seeing her face, with her head hanging over the edge, but her heaving breasts made it clear enough. She's in bliss now. Like all them sluts, minutes after getting to know my tongue. He kissed her mound to be sure, gently sucking in her engorged clit, squished right between his slimy teeth.

Sing to me sweetums, how sensitive the bitch still is.

Mmmmphh..!! Elanor had no clue, thankfully, how loud that moan was.

Oh, this is one horny bitch..! She's still on that wave, huh?? Riding high and blissful.. If any nineteen-year-old would know as much from a mere moan, Yashim would. After all, it wasn't his first time, trapping a girl with his bare tongue, only to rob her off her virginity, while she's lost to the orgasmic bliss . A bliss of her own making. And none had ever complained. Not even the two who ended up carrying, thankfully both faithfully married now.

And how could you complain, when you are all too spent, from all that cumming.. Dumb sluts.. Haha..! Just like my brother said, if a bitch let's you poke her rear. Then all else is fair game.

As Elanor reveled in the pleasure that finally graced her in this long, tiring, humiliating night, Yashim sat up on his haunches, his pants already on the corner crumbled. The Queen parted her thighs of her own volition, even in daze, as she felt the warmth of his tongue back on her nether. This is too good to miss out on, she needed more..! She deserved some release.

It didn't bother her that his tongue felt a lot heavier. That it lacked the slippery slime of spittle, nor the tantalizing texture. She did notice the way it pulsed, and how her clit pulsed back in response. And she loved how him simply placing it between made it sink into the folds of her mounds, almost parting the fleshy outer lips, yet safely outside the inner lips still. The veiny pulse almost made it seem like her lips, her inner vaginal lips were giving sweet kisses to the meaty tongue, for making her cum few moments ago. Why would a tongue feel veiny..? Now that was a puzzle. A puzzle she never truly entertained. For she was too far gone, deep in bliss. Such was his tongue for her.

Crimson. Let it be a parting gift, my dick, to you. And your virginity to me.

There was a truly malicious shine in his eyes, as Yashim knelt before the Queen's parted legs, with his thick semi-hard nine inch member placed right against her pussy lips. Virginity is one thing he treasured in girls. It always gives her an air of true innocence, quite evident in simply an hour after losing it. He had witnessed it first hand, in all the girls he had deflowered, right as they wake up from that state of bliss. Right as they grasp the reality of their purity. Their possibly well-bred womb. Their blush of shame, and tears of sin.

True, virginity is a thing of beauty. And here, dear Crimson, or whatever your name is.. Let me rid it, of you.

There was a sudden movement by the door, a gust of air, and true fear for life flashing in Yashim's eyes, as he ducked in an instant. A true display of his agility, which possibly saved him from a concussion, as a silver chalice flew past his head, missing it barely, and clashed on to the wall beside. It took him a moment to realize what had happened, at which point, Yashim rolled back to his feet and ran out the shed.

A few seconds before.

Right when Yashim was about to score his latest conquest, the very drunk Ridgemund walked in, holding a chalice full of mead. Being a man dedicated to his craft, and it's sanctity his whole life, it only took him a moment, to sober up knowing what was about to unfold. He screamed at his horny underling, not just for disobeying, but possibly putting them both at risk for defiling what is now essentially an Imperial property. The property being the newly registered pet's verified virginity.! He threw the chalice at Yashim, in a fit of anger, and proceeded to grab the first thing he could to cement the point.

Running out into the night, Yashim heard he clear command.

"Stop right there, kid.!"

There was something about Ridgemund's voice that made him freeze. Yashim turned around in surrender, knowing full well how bad he messed up. He expected to see his uncle raging back at him. If anything, Ridgemund looked like a disappointed parent. He said.

"You'll pay for your mistake, but not now. Come back, I have a few more errands for you.."

Even in fright, Yashim found it odd. A few more errands..?! It's the middle of the night! What do you expect me to do..? Then again he noticed what the old man was gripping now, in his left fist.

A rusty old cleaver.

As Yashim returned to the shed, Ridgemund checked the girl's state.

"You'll pay Yashim, and so will this bitch. I mean, look at her.. About to lose the last thing of hers with any worth, and she lays there willing and welcoming..?! Take out the wax ball, and hang it right above her snatch. Let's burn some shame into this bitch, or some sense at least. Nothing reminds one, like pain..!"

Oouh.! Even the boy found it a bit too cruel. But he knew exactly what the old man intended, and he was in no position to object. Nor did he want to, partly.

Wax ball, as he recalled, was a rare tool imported from the lands of the orient, a modification of their infamous water-drip torture technique. Only it had molten wax, instead of water. It's basically a mirror-finished weighted silver ball, the size of a coconut, chained on three sides, to be hung from the ceiling. And on top of it, a special holder for the custom-made extra-thick ivory white wax candle that came with it. The lit candle is to stay on top of the ball, and the device is to be hung above the desired target, so that over a period of time the whole wax gets melted onto the target, in painfully slow drips. And with it now lit and ready, hanging over Elanor's splayed legs, right above her pulsing clit, Yashim didn't even bother suppressing the grin.

A grin he became conscious of only after noticing the same on the old man's face. He stood next to Ridgemund, hands folded behind, waiting for his own lesson. What he attempted was wrong, and fucked up. He knew now, as he awaited his boss, for some proper corporal punishment.

"Not the slap, my boy. I know you by now, you'll just endure it blind. Unlike this bitch, who'd enjoy it rather. If the point is to punish, then one must know what hurts the most. And it changes from person, depends on what they truly value. So you bloody son of a peasant, I'm cutting your wages. Half pay for the next two months, and mind you, I'm being lenient. For what you almost did, could've easily gotten our necks to the guillotine..!"