Queendom 08: Poppetry

"Highness, I'm fine." Done with the chest-harness, she moved onto securing the Queen's hands. Elanor said.

"I know this isn't what a promising young horse-trainer had in mind, when called upon to serve the throne. Surely there's been plenty first times, since we started down this road. Let me add one, the first of it's kind, from a Queen to a commoner."

"Highness.?!" Still standing behind, Bella asked. It helped that they weren't facing each other. Elanor continued.

"I justified it a thousand rounds, on the heat of the moment. But that morning of the Diplomatic Meet, in that dusty barn.."

"Highness, we don't have to get into that now.." Bella's breath-rate sped up, at the increasingly uncomfortable topic.

"I'm sorry, Bella. I should have known better, the load I put on you, and the pressures of changing priorities at the last minute. I should have acted, with the wisdom befitting a Queen, than lashing out at the help, like a bratty blue-blood. Forgive me."

"Highness, you weren't.. It was completely.." Bellatrix didn't realize, that she had long stopped binding the rope. Her hands were hugging onto her friend instead, from behind. Elanor said, in a comforting tone.

"Bella, when a Queen provides.."

"I don't understand.."

She truly couldn't think up, the right way to respond. This had been weighing her down for so long, that with the weight lifted, it suddenly felt unnatural. Elanor shook her head, smiling.

"Some horse whisperer you are.! My apology, Mistress? Enough blaming, just take it, will you..?!"

Bella managed a chuckle as she exhaled in bursts. Why do my eyes feel funny?!

"As you wish, Highness.." She said, as her knuckle wiped the tear drop.

"Demura..! I'm Demura now, Mistress.."

"I believe you, pet. Now on, don't break character." She said, lovingly scratching her Queen's hair.

Pet?! That's new. Elanor wasn't sure what to make of the sobriquet. But she chose to play along in silence, to not discourage. Not when she was starting to warm up. Bella stayed silent for the most part, except while instructing the Queen about the bondage. But her heart was full, and it reflected in the overall vibe.

Even Elanor felt a sudden surge in the domineering presence within the room, and Bella started behaving much more cold, and mechanical. She didn't speak much, but her intensity doubled, the force with with she tightened the rope almost stinging at times. When she was done, Elanor had her both hands secured, resting on the small of her back. A much relaxed posture, compared to the usual routines, but she knew it meant a longer, grueling session. The bulk of her weight rested on the large metal chain hanging from the ceiling, the cold hook at its end budged into the back of her chest-harness. It almost felt like someone was holding her up by the rib-cage, with her two big-toes barely touching the ground for balancing, preventing her from spinning uncontrollably.

Bella exhaled deeply, about to start the actual training task of the day. She looked at the naked specimen hanging before. Still all she could see was the bruised, mud-stained Queen she had failed months ago. And if she were to turn around, she had no doubt that the fury of the Lion of Wolkenshire could burn her to a crisp right then and there. Bella felt so hollow, that one pointed gaze from the Queen could make her crumple in an instant. Am I really ready for this?

"Mistress.." Elanor called, her voice humble yet clear.

No answer came. Mistress was lost in her own doubts.

"Bella..!"

"Yes Your Highness."

"Is something wrong?"

"No, my Queen." Bellatrix didn't find it necessary to act in character. What was the point, after all, if she can't stay true to it. Elanor felt the blindfold slip into place, turning the barely lit room into a void.

"What's the matter? Why are you, like, walking on egg shells?"

"Nothing my Queen."

"Bella, this is not going to work if you stay fearful of me.."

"I'm aware, my Queen. That's why.."

After an uncomfortably long pause, she resumed.

"That's why I must delegate, I'm afraid."

Elanor didn't know what that meant. However, she chose not to question.

"Sure. As you see fit."

Suddenly Elanor heard her stepping back, and the sound of the heavy door dragging. Then she heard Bella say, in a meek whisper.

"I'm sorry, Demura."

THUD..!! The door closed, followed by the bolts locking.

What now? Solitary confinement..?! That's the big training..??

Elanor was confused. She was extremely hopeful that morning, particularly when walking alongside the most in-demand prostitutes in her kingdom. Wondering exactly how close she was, to becoming one herself. Wondering if her place was already beyond that of a common whore. Her entire system entrenched in all the fear, and shame, and excitement of the unfamiliar territory. But now, with Bella like this...

Elanor found it odd, that she still felt a strange domineering presence in the room. She listened on baffled, only to realize she preferred the chaos of her thoughts, to the deafening silence of this cold dark place of solitude. This isn't like, Bella though.. To leave me alone, with the door locked, bolted from inside..

The Queen's suddenly found herself speechless. The door. It had no bolts, but a single key hole. From the outside at least. If the bolts were inside, and Bella had left the room..

She felt it grow multifold, that domineering presence in the room. That sound, just now? Was it a footstep. No, wait.! Elanor felt the hair of her nape, raise on cue as the hot exhale hit her naked back. As the familiar snicker echoed, all she could pray was..

Not him! God, anyone but him..!

"Long time, Poppet..!"

The voice boomed, cementing her fears. As her spine froze, she whispered to herself.

"Ishikawa.."

Oh Bella, you didn't?!

**

*

Rousetta didn't feel good about her performance today, as she walked into the common room. She had tried all her tricks, but this Lady Agrafena is truly a tough nut to crack. She didn't buy for a second, that the Head of Households herself would take an interest in the domestic intel gathering, that too in such a celebrated cesspool. It didn't bother her much, that a the girl rose to such an influential position at a young age. Exceptionals came in all shapes, sizes and ages, she was well aware. What irritated her the most, was her failure to extract anything concrete out of the superior, as much as she tried to prolong their interactions. A skill which was her point of pride. Swiftly making her way through the working girls serving drinks to the customers, she almost ran into the tall, broad shoulders blocking the way.

""Excuse me, Sir. Oh! It's you Lord Sim.." Rousetta exclaimed.

"Shh.. Keep it down, trainee. What are you, blowing the cover in public?"

"Umm.. But sire.."

"Act the part girl, come rub against and flirt up. Appearances, remember?!"

It wasn't the play-act that troubled her, from the very moment she was assigned this duty. But this man, her direct superior. Particularly this 'not necessarily-carnal', but predatory vibe he send her way. Being flirted at and objectified wasn't new to Rousetta, rather a much cherished privilege that she'd enjoyed all her life, doubtlessly accelerating her up the ranks at such tender age. Had he sated his desires on her in an orgy, and gotten over it, she wouldn't have batted an eye. But this uncertainty, this constant toying.. Be it his gaze, or words. It strangely put her on edge, every single time.

"So what's the update?" He asked, acting professional.

"There's been an inspection today, sir. The new Head of Households. Since I never got any notice for the past few months, I pegged her for the kind to pay little attention to the surveillance tasks."

"And she is..?"

"In the monitoring pod, now. With her assistant.."

"Interesting.. Gave you the day off, didn't she? Hmm.. You didn't by any chance.."

"No sir, I got your memo last week itself. I doubt she's aware of the secondary pod. Considering the Royal espionage-wing having provisions to protect core-secrets, even from the Head of Households, answerable only to the throne."

"Huh, it's not like the Queen herself came down, right..?"

What? Why would the Queen..?! Oh, just shut up and nod, Rossie.. The girl giggled, joining the joke.

"Eh eh.. Right, sir. If that is all, may I?" The girl stepped back, ready to curtsy farewell.

"In a hurry?! I thought you could kill for a field mission."

"Sir! You mean an actual field mission..?!" Rousetta stepped right back in, her eyes almost popping.

As much as it paid good, and reflected well on her record, she'd been shut in here for the most part, for over a year. Even if it's a shit-job, she craved for an actual field mission, out in the sun, and away from the smell of sweat and sex. The man grinned down.

"Yes, you have been good, you deserve some good working memories in the sun. But before that, let's see if you haven't lost the touch still. To your right, between pillars two and five. What do you see? Don't look, just tell from the memory."

It was hard for him to contain the hilarity before, the maiden dressed the part of a wanton slut, her stance angled and twisted to accentuate the feminine figure, the way that fit only a whore. Yet her eyes, the spirit in it, reflecting a deep devotion towards her kingdom. The juxtaposition of these antitheses. Sinfully perverting idealistic notions of duty, by her own doing. Like a taboo too wicked to state outright. Rousetta answered, without even needing to recall.

"To my right side, that would be Svelta and Janetine. They are a double act."

"To the left corner, then?"

"Peeking out from behind the curtain, the one looking anxious. That's Leiticia."

"Anything particular to report. Anything odd, or unusual."

"Svelta and Janetine seems to be waiting for a regular, running late probably. Janetine's blushing, and Svelta seemed to be fidgeting her fingers. Her wet fingers. No, not wet, just cold. They probably just visited the ice-room, she likes looking ravishing for the clients. Yes, I remember her nipples poking out vividly, them both. Probably just rubbed ice on areola, to appear excited. These minor touches truly impresses the regulars."

"And what about the slutty Lexia?" He asked as his fingers imitated her words, hovering over her nipples, as if rubbing ice upon hers. Rousetta hated they toying, it'd have been better if he outright grabbed her tits. It's the vacuum between that colored her imagination, while reporting to her superior. Wait, my nipples! Are they actually getting hard?!

"Leticia, sir. She's probably making sure her in-laws aren't among the customers. A year into marriage, the couple had been down on luck. Only her husband knows she's working on the side. They don't want the larger family knowing."

"Okay, turn around, and tell me what you missed."

"Missed. You mean, I made a mistake? Ouwwchiee.." The girl struggled to muffle the pain through her teeth, as his fingers dug into the right buttock, in a pinch that's sure to leave a lasting impression.

"Hmm, your tolerance has improved. I'm impressed. We'll get to the mistake, but first... When was the last time you worked?"

Blinking her eyes to fight off the single tear, Rousetta answered.

"Sir, I just finished.. Oh, you mean like.. The Madame covers for me, as usual. So I don't have to, work as much lately.."

With a mock-disappointment, he continued.

"Still, that's too risky. You think the girls won't notice?! Especially the part-timers, and the new recruits, the particularly chatty kind. You can't risk an entire operation like that, Rousetta! Tell you what.. See that tall, lean nervous looking gentleman, at the far end to my right."

"Yes, sir..?!"

He wasn't a regular, but she knew of him, from quite a few girls. She remembered them refusing to go into details, yet always insisting. To keep away. Regardless him being quite the spender. Am I to find out now, why?! The smirk on her superior wasn't exactly comforting.

"Go tend to him. And not just drinks, take him to one of the dark rooms.."

"But sir, the dark room.." She had a lump in her throat, at the implication.

"He has some pretty weird tastes. Sate him well enough, and he'll lead your way a regular niche of like-minded men. The kind that loses any grip on their tongue once the balls are emptied. An actual willing bunch of informers, and their confidence, making you invaluable to the branch."

He reveled at the conflict in her eyes. Between the sanctity of one's body, and commitment to one's ambition. He never enjoyed corrupting someone. His tastes lies in giving the options. And watching from afar, as they corrupted themselves. He continued, twisting the knife.

"I could tell you his fetish, but I don't feel like dirtying my mouth. Nothing you can't live through, so smile. His recommendation will give you a reputation, and a bunch of regulars, so that'd help with any suspicions of you not working, amongst the girls. And Rousetta.?"

"Sir??"

"Its imperative that he falls for you, as much as one would for a whore, but in short.. He needs be sated, thoroughly. That's an order. Now about the mistake.. Did you figure it out, yet?"

As his digits crept up underneath the skirt, towards her dress-strings, she had no doubt. This was one of those teaching moments, that pleasured him far more than it taught anything.

"Sir, please spare it, this time. Its an expensive fabric." She loved the feel of it against her bare-mound.

"A gift, I know. But not like the skirt you are wearing, from your betrothed, Guardsmen Patrice. Which he brought with bribes received at the docks, last Tuesday. No Rouss, that skimpy little string riding up your crevices, the name-sake underclothing..?! It was gifted by your play-toy here, the servant-boy Mushin, right.?! The one who helps soil the carpets of the monitoring pod, only to clean it himself later on."

Oh shit.. He knew.?! Was he watching from the.. For how long?

"I see it all, dear. ALL..!"

There it was again, that sadistic toothy-grin.

"Sir, I apologize. Please don't.."

"It's a room full of whores, Rouss. If anything you should thank me, for gifting the upper-hand. Walk up to him with the right sway and smirk, and he'll be wrapped around your fingers in a couple blinks. Besides, shame is a great teaching tool. You'd think twice before wearing an under-clothing to your wedding even, believe me..."

She stood petrified, as he undid the knot, and slid it right through her womanly folds. Hatefully arousing her by the soft tug against her clit, the string snaking its way through, until all of it was safe in his clutches. It felt cold, his fingers, against her flesh. Yet she couldn't move back. She was stuck. Shame warmed her cheeks, as the girls around giggled, watching what appeared to be an amorous gesture. Wait, am I wet?? From this.?!

Folding it neatly, before slipping the under-clothing into his breast-pocket, he said.

"Don't worry Rousetta, I value a girl's honor. But you are on duty now.. This is the Queen's safety, her honor, that we safe-guard. Much like I safe-guard your shame. If only there were someone more worthy to guard your under-things. Maybe Guardsmen Patrice.?! Very conscientious kid, he's been assigned to aid me this week. He's outside right now, unless he had wandered in, to take a peek. Don't run into him, alright.? Unless it's something he enjoys, watching you work."

It was clear to the girls around by then, this was no love-language, as they stepped back, noticing her brows frown in desperation. Rousetta felt it again, his cold digits. On her waistline, this time.

"Sir, please. My skirt..."

As the cold air grazed her naked legs, a part of her felt defeated. He wasn't grinning anymore. But his green eyes surely enjoyed even more.

"I told you, I value honor, trainee. It's a man's responsibility, his woman's honor. I'll leave it with Patrice, your precious skirt. I'm sure he'd appreciate, the chance to be your knight. The spare keys now."

"Sir, please don't.."

As her knees trembled, she quickly got out the mini-key, hidden in her hair-clip. The one that opened both the surveillance pods. The longer this bastard stayed around, the worse it got.

"That'll be all, trainee. Off you go."

With her gone to her new mark, he whispered to himself.

"Well I believe it's time for the visitor. What was my alias again?! Oh yes. Commander Rian. Haha.."

There was an orcan guest, awaiting him. The thin grey spy, whom he had met once before. But there was something he must do before. A visual confirmation, of the foundation of his grand plan. His hand clutched the keys, as he picked up the pace.

**

*

Pitch black.

The way it amplifies all else, especially the sounds. Faint steps on the stone floor. Metallic clanking, as if nailing anchors to the wall. Add to it the sudden scent, kind of like a lubricating oil. And the sudden grunts, like he's pulling something, to check the strength. Elanor couldn't tell how long, but having him there, as she hung helpless, it sure seemed like forever. Particularly with him not minding her presence, treating her like buck meat, long dead and hanging. She'd have rather had him make a disparaging remark, every now and then. just to acknowledge her presence. Validating her being. She couldn't talk either, for it was his one command.

Stay quiet, Poppet!

This was more torturous than her memory of the last two months. Trapped in this darkness, her essential movements neutralized, and stranded at the mercy of the one man she absolutely didn't trust her body with. It's not that Elanor expected the clergyman to take advantage of her state, nor was she worried for her chastity, for the moment. No, Ishikawa wasn't a slave to his perversions. He was the master, in all its shades. It's that mastery, that left her petrified. If anyone could make her truly submit to the insatiable beast in her, it was him. She knows this, because he had brought her to the brink, in their last project together. An experience which colored most of her wet-dreams, to this day. What his bare fingers did, without even breaking a sweat. This isn't what I had in mind, when I put my trust in you. Bella, how could you?

Then it ringed in her mind, her strange remark from last day.

My duty is to you, my Queen. Not to get caught up in your like, whims, nor insecurities, but to assign what's good for the treatment. Whether you like it, or not.

"Aaaghrrr..mmmMMNGH..!!"

Elanor clenched her teeth, as pain bit into her tender flesh.

"There, there.. No need to be so dramatic. I'm just testing waters."

Stated the middle-aged holy man. There was a little bit of attitude in his voice, a hint of prejudice, unlike the strictly procedural erotician she remembered from the Celibacy trials. May be it's the privacy of this space, the lack of a ritual, or even the absence of Bella's supervision, that freed him to be a bit more indulgent.

"ArgHH!"

Another loud yelp, this time much more proportional.

"My bad.! I was just checking the tightness. Now let's calibrate, shall we Poppet?"

Calibrate what..?! And what's with these new names. Pet, poppet.. Demura! That one name is enough you senile old fool.. aaaAAAHHouch!!

"You didn't answer me, Poppet! You must always answer. Didn't Mistress teach you proper..?"

"Yes, yes.."

"Yes what?"

"Yes.. master..?!"

"Hahaha.. Good girl. Sensible one.. Though we don't have to stick to any honorifics. You knowing your place is good enough for me. How about that, Poppet?"

Elanor nodded slowly, as much as she hated that name. Let's not object now. Not when we are establishing an equation. Ishikawa asked, in his musical cadence.