Queendom 08: Poppetry

And bit her lips suddenly, as pain rushed to her thighs. The clergyman flicked a finger, and the jute string tightened, pulling the peg biting into her soft right under-thigh. It wasn't the black-thread, the kind that truly bites for pain, but thighs are inherently more painful. A gentle tug, was enough to wake her back to vigilance. Keeping the tension, he said.

"Listen to the moan, carefully. He's going at it full, and has quite the stamina. I can tell, from the grunts. But you focus on her."

What kind of perversion is this.?! Elanor struggled to make sense, as blood rushed on its own to her nether. She's have gladly traded places, to sniff up his sweat-soaked under-clothing. Wait.. Am I hoping for a feel of it, now?! Elanor mind cleared up, as the moans only got louder.

"Mmmrrgghh.. Ssssszzjjhh.. OHHHhhh.. HHAAnngrrhh.. Haahnghh..!!"

With a grin of satisfaction, at her displeasure, the clergyman started his lecture.

"That ghrrr you hear is pain. Well, her protestation, to be precise. Leaking out in cries, despite her best efforts. I bet her frown wouldn't be much dissimilar to yours now. This isn't her days of initiation, to cry out from a popped cherry. Nor a bruised pubis, for that matter. Look at the enthusiasm in her moans. There's no natural breathlessness, considering her not skipping a beat. Those unusually consistant dips.. This is pure performance. Well, except for the pain, and a few others. This, is a professional, one of the best at emulation, I must say! She never oversells. Listen and learn.!"

And to her surprise, she did. There was something about an educational framework, that made her truly focus, regardless the general depraved nature of it. And she listened, as innate to a woman, she could tell. The lack of shivers in her voice, something she felt, in her own quiet squeals. And yes, that low grunt, the ghrrs she fails to keep wrapped. In a minute she might break into tears, it seemed to the Queen. Ishikawa continued.

"Now, it's not all an act. That nghh you hear in every three moans or so. That's her true pleasure, uncontainable as always. That she don't mind spilling, unlike the pain. And she's surprised even, that this still surprises her with pleasure, despite growing cynical with transactional sex after sex. Listen to her breathing speed up, way before his grunts pick up the pace. It's her pleasure rising within, driving her up the hill."

You can tell all that from a moan, you sick, sick pervert.?!

"Argh..!"

Elanor jolted, as pain shot up her spine. Coming from left of her bellybutton, and it was definitely a sharp bite.

"Figured out yet, what they are up to?"

Ishikawa was right about her tolerance, but she was no fan of pain. She had her doubts, but nothing worth risking another pinch. She slowly shook her head, in no. He said crassly, snickering.

"He's trying to nut up her ass. The bitch probably thought she could handle it, only to find him turn real bestial. That's not the moans from an ordinary dick, she's speechless. With his stamina, but crucially his girth. Stretching her up beyond comfort, he's lost to the bliss to care for her anymore. And she'd rather hold on to the reputation, than stop, and say enough. An admirable trait, I'd say. Hence the pain, in every few strokes. She contains it well, but not well enough. And yes, the surprise to her. The pleasure in it. With the pain receding with each stroke, her mind is confusing the relative novelty for pleasure. That and probably whatever his hand is doing, to keep her on the edge. Because he knows, he can last a while. So now that you know the setting, why don't you start the song.."

Elanor looked at him confused. Song?! What does that mean?

"Come on Poppet, the man wont stay hard all day. Sing along, don't be shy.."

Pain is strangely effective. And it dawned on her, what he meant, right as she saw his fingers tightening. Her lips parted, saying.

"..................... ... ...................... ... hhhaa............"

Nothing came out, other than more pain, as she felt another jolt, in tandem with his finger tug.

Focus Nora.. Just breathe for now. Long, relaxed, and soundful. Just close your eyes, and thing of Bard's fingers.. Making it way down, as your heart beats in fear of discovery...

"nnmmgh.......... .. ...................... hh... .. ..................."

Nothing.

God! I'm not doing it.

It can't be.. Shameful.. It's too shameful.. I don't wail in pleasure, it doesn't suit a princess. Unbecoming of a Queen. My voice won't come, its stuck within. As am I.

I can't. Nora can't. I just..

The shame..!

Her her face turned beet red, her skull shaking, veins about to pop, at the inability to perform, to reason with her own vocal chord.

As she felt another tug on her right breast, slowly tightening, Elanor realized she must shift gears. Okay, you are not the Queen, not Nora, not even Demura.. You are the over-confident whore in the room next.. The one who got too cocky enough to bite more than one can chew. Not to mention repurposing what was strictly meant as an exit door. You aren't just listening in, you are her. There's more in common with her, than the ideal bride King Bard brought home. Just channel the cries, just share her voice.. Don't just sympathize, empathize instead. It'll be bad, but at least its a start.

Breathe out Poppet, just breathe out..

"Haangh.. Haanng.. Mmmmm.. Haaann.."

Finally.. Her whole visage relaxed, as the pressure released.

A weak imitation, lacking all life and enthusiasm, but Ishikawa nodded along. It's slow, but she'll take on. He let her moan poorly, getting used, warming her throat, for a few rounds. Then said.

"Now focus.. Imitate her passion.. Leave the pain to me, the pleasure will follow. Fake it enough ,and your body will catch on. It isn't ideal, but the next best choice, if you are hellbent on saving that snatch."

It was truly hard for her, containing the blood rushing to her cheeks, and the hyperventilation in keeping up with the pounded slut in the other room, not to mention that strange knot tightening in her core, mostly due to shame. She did her best, to dupe the passion, but surely the embarrassment was still hindering.

"Haan..Haan.. Haan.. HaaaAAANHG!!"

"There! That was good. Great one, Poppet! Keep doing like that.."

Ishikawa snickered through the mock-appreciation, as Elanor took a moment clenching her teeth. It wasn't her doing, but his. A swift sharp tug, of the black chord on her under-thigh, and releasing it right before it bit down completely, resulting in a sharp, warning sting. That was the reason for the sudden high pitch.

"Focus on the intensity, the passion in the moans.. And the pain too, mimic it well. If I sense a dip in intensity, or sincerity, I'll help correct, like this."

He pulled again, this time the wooden teeth biting into both sides of the navel button, as her skin turned red with her tightened core. And surely, it reflected well, in screams. In intensity, in passion, and pain, just like he promised.

"Mmmrrgghh.. Ssssszzjjhh.. HHAAngrrh.. Haahnghh..!!"

"Hoooomphh.. Aaaanghh.. Aaaaghrrrrr.. Hiyaaaghhh..!!"

Struggling to keep up with the truly deviant grinding in the next room, Elanor was in no mood to fall short. That part of her kicked in too quick, it seemed. The part she loved about herself, as much as loathed, that made her as much a success in most endeavors, as much a slave. Her affinity to stick to game, and excel in the constraints, once she understood the rules. No, more like her inability to say no, to an established rules. Right now the assignment was clear. Listen and sing along. She never believed in sayings like, fake it till you make it. But it was hard to deny the heat rising in her core, to match the lustful moans she was merely mimicking. And it didn't help, not one bit, the threat of the tight grip Ishikawa maintained, keeping her on the edge through out.

She didn't want to give him an excuse. There was something extra in his grin, every time he pulled.

"AAAANGH..!! Hmmmmngg.. Ughhh.. Haaa..!"

What's the mistake? She couldn't tell. But the grin was back again. Her high-pitched moan seemed to please the clergyman. Elanor felt the tightness in her chest increase as the slapping sounds from the other room grew louder that the moans itself. Pops of sweaty thighs railing against hungry ass cheeks, she could tell. The pace picking up and up, making it near impossible for Elanor to keep up, with no time to take a proper lungful even. The Queen steeled herself for pain, as she saw his grip tighten, and that grin widen.

TAP!

It stopped, the moans of pleasure from the other room, for a second. The deafening silence of the chamber returned, this time soothing her eardrums, as the Queen relaxed. The wooden lid of the pipe closed, with the gear slowly turning, pulling the lid, of the adjacent pipe open. The engineering involved in the setup was truly impressive, only the Queen was in no state to admire it in full. This one she recognized instantly, as the soundscape filled the room, in a haunting echo for a noise so low.

"Sslllrrppp.. Swwshhzzz.. Pop! Mnmmmghh.. Sloooosh.. Sloorrshh.. SLLLRPP.. Huhhgg.."

Her labial lips twitched without being asked, something that didn't go unnoticed by the erotician. It was a combination of sounds, he noticed. A constant gargling sound, like a river of slime. Lustful quick breaths from the male counterpart, with a non-spot stroking sound. And a resounding satisfied pop sound, followed by a lecherous quick grunt of exhale, and the cycle repeats.

"Seems like this isn't new to you.. Ready to guess, Poppet? What's happening, you think? Cock-sucking??"

Elanor nodded in negative. No clergyman! I'm not falling to your trap.

"Seems you've had quite an education, since last time.. What then, deep-throating?"

Not forceful enough. And the grunts aren't loud, nor desperate enough to imply skull-fucking either.. Elanor said, her voice firm.

"Poppet disagrees..!"

She hated that name. And calling herself, she hated even more. This is never going to grow on me.

Ishikawa smiled asymmetrically, cleared impressed, yet disappointed, either by her tone, or the missed opportunity of pulling the strings.

"What else could it be, I wonder.?! Care to explain, Poppet??"

"May Poppet speak?"

Elanor wasn't taking any chances. More than the pain, she hated failing.

"You may, but like a Poppet.!"

What's that supposed to mean.?! Elanor replied.

"Poppet is certain, this is oral. But the cycles, the sloshing loops aren't long enough for a deep-thoat. But the throaty grunt comes from a stuffed mouth. Her exhales reeks of satisfaction, and his breathing, though quick, not forceful enough to match that of skull-fucking."

While she replied, she felt increasingly vulnerable as all traces of sainthood disappeared from his glare, the pupils now piercing into her soul in pure predation. For the time being, she felt thankful for all the strings restricting his movements as much as hers. A strange notion occurred to her, that he was very much the string-instrument here, as much as she was. May be if she acted right, it could be her playing his sexual torment, the complexity oif the equipment binding him to the chair, his fingers to the rings, and unable to release his breeches, to have a stroke at her expense. If she played right, he could end up just as much a poppet.. God, I hate that name.!

"What about that 'pop' sound, Poppet.? And how could it be something oral, yet not a blowjob?!"

Ishikawa asked, as his left grip tightened, threateningly. Elanor felt the pull on her right vulvic flap. It was a soft pressure, and not a proper bite, thankfully. Not yet. Exhaling deeply, the Queen answered.

"The pop is surely loud, and they both seem to enjoy it. But it's not her popping the penis crown, by sucking on it tight, and playfully pulling out. The pressure isn't large enough, so the 'pop' itself isn't as loud as it should be.. When you are sucking in the crown.."

Elanor enacted with her lips, struggling against the head harness. She pouted her mouth, emulating a fellatio, and sucked in all the air, her both cheeks sinking deeply, distorting her own visage to a comical obscenity. She explained as if she was in her teens, trying to impress her legal tutor. Making sure her diction was proper, her words loud and legible, and her non-verbals extremely effective. If it wasn't such for the inherent perversion, her earnestness would have truly impressed the clergyman. But now, he could only grin wide, as his suppressed dark proclivities reveled at the possibilities such a unique harlot presents. The sloshing noises continued adding to the atmosphere.

"Sloooosh.. Sloorrshh.. Pop! Mnmmmghh.. ... Sslllrrppp.. Swwshhzzz..SLLLRPP.. Huhhgg.."

Elanor didn't notice any of this, she was too busy emulating the facial distortion of an expert blowjob. She wasn't aroused, but simply trying to do her best. And she didn't understand why her mouth continued to pool up with slimy saliva all of a sudden, even as she gulped again and again, even as she explained further.

"Like I said, even for a short dick, if you suck in properly, the pressure along would ensure a much louder pop. The pop sound now is much dampened. Meaning more of her mouth is full, but not enough to clog up her wind-pipe. Definitely not a deep-throat. I'm thinking she's going at the sack, directly. She's fellating his ball-sack, and it must be a rarely large sack, to stuff her mouth so well. The 'pop' is her spitting out the sack, his balls to be precise. And when his balls pop out.. aaaAAAHHH..!!"

Elanor convulsed wildly, as Ishikawa pulled just two of his digits, the wooden pegs biting into her left breast, and right midriff. The punishment blind-sided her, as she was so confident in her delivery, and her dramatic spasms only encouraged him to pull a few more strings, mainly to calm her down. To rein her in.

What did I miss? How did I mess up? Her mind raced for clarity, even with the pain, and the shame of failure. Ishikawa's voice boomed.

"Oh oh.. Was Poppet wrong??"

I don't think so.. But. She knew what she must say, regardless.

"Poppet was wrong."

"Care to explain, Poppet??"

Elanor kept her breathing deep, slow, and in control. The bite felt hard enough to leave a hickey, and the pain hadn't nearly subsided. She needed to decrease the heart-rate, she needed to answer right, this time. What did I miss? She listened in on the sloshing sound again. The pace hadn't picked up significantly, maybe it's their second round. May be that's why the harlot focused on the balls, instead of his cock? Am I absolutely certain, it was a ball-sack, and not the penis crown? May be its her tongue flicking his underside, as she sucked, that dampened the pop sound.

Was she certain.? Nope. But she couldn't think up any other reason. Well , she must answer fast, before fingers got itchy again. Just as she was about to speak, it dawned on the Queen. Ishikawa's words, from earlier today.

Voice should be made a luxury, one you can't afford.

But he asked me to explain... Elanor closed her eyes, her mind peering for answers, as her flesh anticipated pain any moment. The clergyman may have asked, Nora. But it doesn't mean you can afford to explain. He expects obedience from you, not answers. May be, in a n attempt to impress him, you may have exhausted his tolerance for the sound of your voice. He responded much positively when you had stuck to silent nods earlier. May be he draws the line in your replies, at two, three words, the most. And one of the words has to be his name for you. As much as you hate what it implies, he seemed to prefer your admission, every single time. You must restrict your words now on, Nora. It's not about the pinching and pulling, for you aren't the kind to step away from pain. It is about not failing. Aim for two word replies, from now on. And be sure one of those is Poppet.

"Sssszzzzz..."

The Queen sipped air through her clenched teeth, as she felt the tension on her both pussy lips, her eyes still closed.

"I expect an answer Poppet. Why were you wrong.?"

His voice had lost all the stoic traces she remembered from months before. Right now he wasn't the revered clergyman, but the infamous erotician of the east. His fingers, itching to play more, his ears yearning for the music, of her sweet writhing moans. Elanor said, her voice the definition of meek.

"Poppet is dumb.."

Look at that.. She's learning the game. Ishikawa eased back into the chair, with a smile on his lips, as his fingers relaxed. He had expected to keep toying her for a few more rounds, before breaking it to her, that her smartness had no place in this chamber. But it seems, she managed to figure out on her own. This is no novice. I may not have to go so easy on her, after all. Nice find, Bella!

"Oh, we agree, Poppet. We very much do. There were three mistakes made. The first one, which you caught already, evident in your response. Voice is a luxury. So short answers, always."

There's two more?! Elanor nodded slowly, feeling a little proud at figuring it out, despite the pressure. Ishikawa continued.

"Mistake two. I said you may speak. But I specified, like a Poppet. This should be the norm, from now on. So remember, Poppet is a nasal slut.!"

What?!

Elanor couldn't hide her perplexion, her eyes popping out at the clergyman. What does that even mean? The slurping noises in the background was picking up the pace. He elaborated.

"You're too much of a mouth-breather, Poppet. I'm sure all the vocal training of the standard nobility must have helped develop that unusually firm voice of yours. That diction so clear, word choice so precise, even under duress. But it has no place in my Poppet, alright?!"

He wasn't off by much, which surprised the Queen. One thing that she hated growing up was her overtly girlish voice, and propensity to constantly giggle, to please others and act adorable. Something she found distasteful about her sister, Princess Veramour. Not just how she leaned into the voice, but how she sexualized it to her advantage. Particularly that irritating constant giggle of hers. The kind that suited a trophy-princess, the kind Elanor hated becoming.

She wanted to be, from early on, the proverbial Queen. The keeper of household, the purveyor of all things domestic. A voice that could ideally resonate with the common crowd, an asset to her King in times that called for persuasion. So yes, she was proud of her voice, spending weeks training out the incompetence, drilling into her unconscious, proper enunciation and poise. Her dear Aunt Estrella, guiding her every step of the way. Even the recent tragedies and hardships, only seemed to add, to the practiced gravitas of her tone. And now, this mad priest wishes to undo all that effort. And to go the other extreme.

Sensing in her vibes, the protestation, his digits flexed, pinching softly the underside of her both breasts, her nipples budding instantly at the warning. As her jaw clenched, there came a sweet squeal. A very nasal, high-pitched, lasting squeal. Ishikawa swayed his head, like it was pure music.

"What you say Poppet? Ready to be a nasal slut?!"

Elanor nodded, trying to remember her natural voice she hoped she was done with. In an imperfect attempt, she replied.

"Phoppet compliezzz.."

"Hmm.. Not too bad, but definitely needs work. We'll fix it eventually. Now, for the third mistake. What did you miss? Feel like staring another monologue?!"