Queendom 08: Poppetry

"Its okay to fear. But never give into your fear, okay. And never resort to tears. A princess never screams, and a Queen... always in control. You understand..?"

Nora didn't smile back, her gaze had been transfixed on the little spider for a while. She felt the fear, but she felt it more, at bay, as her little fingers neared the creature. The spider slowly made contact with its little hand, and she didn't pull back. As Este stroked her hair, they heard Princess Vera come running, screeching again as usual. Her cries seemed truly terrified this time. But as much as the screams echoed in her little head, Nora wasn't ready to join in. She was afraid still, but in no mood to give in.

The screams of Vera echoed in the blank of her mind.

"Eiieeeeeeehh!! Heeeenmmmghh... Haaaanhghhhhhh..."

Was it Vera? Or is it me only?

"Mmmmmmnghh.. Aaaaaaahngh.."

And what is this? A memory, or a dream?!

**

"Aaaaaaahngh.. Ooouuughhh.. Mmmmmmnghh.. Aieeeeee.. Haaaaagh..!"

Distant moans of pleasure continued to echo in her head as she felt the pinch of the wooden pegs recede, one by one, and the stinging pain from the blood rushing back in. The surveillance machine had been turned off for a while, but the unending loop of pleasure cries, including her own, continued to loop in her mind, like a rent-free tune.

A Princess never screams. Well, what about a Poppet?!

Doesn't matter. I didn't give into fear. As a true Queen should.

Poppet or princess, it doesn't change who I am. Tell me I'm right, Aunt Este.

Tell me..

Elanor had no real clue how long she had been made to scream, and moan, and squeal. It could not have been hours, she knew by the degree to which the ropes cut into her flesh. But it certainly felt long enough, especially after he stopped midway to adjust the wooden pegs. He freed four from her midriff, and put them on the most painful spot she had ever experienced on her skin. Her under-thighs. The sounds, sensations and any sense of time got amplified significantly, once he re-attached her blindfold. With nothing to pull away from her imagination, but pitch black, at times Elanor felt like she was the very whore she had been trying to mimic vocally.

There was the one who kept squealing like of improper age, the one who kept cackling as three men slapped around her tits, the one who had been asked to scream out the foulest expletives known to man as her rear shined his manhood, and of course the one who gave the obviously exaggerated badly executed orgasmic moans. The fake crier was the toughest of all, as the Queen struggled to imitate, not her volume nor sounds, but the sheer monotonous insincerity in her tone. Ishikawa had a great time, pulling her strings again and again, as she finally came close to an acceptable imitation. Later he explained, that to do something well, you must also have a keen understanding of doing it badly, which honestly didn't make much sense to her. But it was better than a non-answer, for the eager student in her. The day turned out to be quite a busy one, as the girls and men kept on coming and leaving, with the Queen losing count of them eventually.

Elanor felt him loosen the knots, while taking the brunt of her weight on to himself, resuming blood flow to the parts that were partially cut off till then. His expert hands readjusted the bondage, massaging her skin to improve blood-flow. It was her first time experiencing true care at his hands, his nails digging into precise pressure points, without a doubt some eastern traditional practice, leaving her feeling rejuvenated in a couple of minutes. Ishikawa said.

"You must be wondering, the point of learning to fake all these. Unfortunately, you aren't a closet pervert. You'd have resorted to mere masturbation, if it were the case. No Poppet, tough luck! Your pleasure comes from reciprocation. From your lust bouncing off, in multiples, in the eyes of your suitors.. Quite a high tolerance at that, from what I gather. All these, the kind of response your body would produce naturally, if only you were to do it the proper way.. All these will help you down the way, in accentuating the eros of the moment."

You have a point, old man?! Elanor felt like scratching her head. If only her hands were free.

"Trying to mimic the exaggerated moans of professional sluts, super-saturated with lust... It's a bit overkill for an amorous couple, but.. We are past the point, Poppet, for someone to single-handedly sate your pangs. Proper satiation itself will be a distant dream, I'm afraid. For you're likely to give in to exhaustion first, before attaining an organic sexual zenith. Unless you dabble in something truly, truly treasonous, that is... Let's not digress. The point being, one man will never be enough for you. And multiple men means leaning into the performative element. If you want to have some control over them, that is. Staying in control is the only way for them to deem you worthy, regardless what they call you, or how they treat."

I must stay in control. A Queen never gives in. Elanor struggled to listen, as the ghosts of her prior moans remained echoing in her ears.

"I know enough about elicitation, to milk you for the right cries. And what I don't, we'll figure it out. What do you say? Ready for the next one..??"

Next one? You mean, this isn't over. Elanor responded with the only safe bet.

"Poppet complies.."

Wow! I didn't even have to focus, to make my voice sound nasal, and strangely regressed.

This time it felt painful, the light hitting her eyes, as the blindfold got removed. He pushed another cup of water to her lips, like he had been doing through out the session. She must have drank enough water to fill her bladder twice and then some, but she had been sweating out copiously as well. It helped greatly, with her throat strained from all the screaming, not to mention in calming her heart-rate. And the pain, the god-damn pain. Two out of three pegs had left thick red marks, surely to take a week or two to fade properly. This couldn't have happened without Bella's knowledge ,the Queen figured. Since the main task is still weeks away, she must have told Ishikawa a little bruising is allowed, so long as he avoided anything permanent. Well, it certainly helped sensitize the skin. The Queen couldn't deny, that she felt all things tactile, including the sweat dripping alongside her spine, infinitely more clearly.

"You have been good, Poppet..!" Ishikawa said, walking around, adjusting the bondage for the next task.

"For a first day, you have lived up to my hopes. Well, the day is still young. And you could use a bit more training, finding your true poppet-voice. It still feels a little mature, lacking that innate submission. Which isn't surprising, you aren't an innate sub. But I expect something of my pets, and I'm very skilled, and sinfully indulgent, in extracting it out."

His fingers rubbed against her crimson hickied thighs, making sure she understood what that meant.

"But before, I need to set somethings straight. And no poppetry for a while, so feel free to speak up. I have been told, by your Mistress, to not pry. But she doesn't understand.. I can't work from vacuum. I need answers, if I am to serve you both right. Answers that can be gleaned, even from a meaningful silence. So just listen, and respond to the degree you can. And yes, this glass prevents me from seeing you, so worry not. It wasn't easy to adjust. But from the sounds of it, not knowing you is in my best interest. I've had high profile clients before, and I understand the currency of discretion, but you.. You must be truly up there, in the hierarchy, or at least your man must be.. Your husband, or Master, Lady Agrafena's employer, whoever he is. So, before we move on, help clue me in."

Elanor nodded, to the degree the ropes on her neck permitted. Why did I nod, and not speak?! And why does it feel oddly comforting, this limpness of my tongue. It seemed odd not speaking, when this man had just heard all possible iterations of shame her throat could produce, the kind of cries even Bard hadn't the pleasure of listening in. Making this the most intimate a proximity she had ever been with another man. Especially considering he hadn't laid a finger on her yet, not sexually, not directly. Ishikawa continued.

"I get the curiosity of the healthy mind, the indulgence of the uninitiated, even the gluttonous satiation of the sick-minded. But with you, and Bella. This isn't such a choice, is it? Rather, the lack of it. You aren't either. If anything, I suspect you belong to the damaged. Stuck with it, aren't you?"

The Queen didn't respond. She wasn't sure of the right answer. Of the truth beneath it all.

Am I Stuck.?!

"Well, makes no difference to me. I have no sympathy for the damaged. It interferes with my work, and does you no good, as far as I know.."

Ishikawa said, as he released the knots on her knees, raising the numb shins above, reversing the blood-flow, temporarily.

It felt good. Tingly.

"Lady, we both know you are one difficult piece. I'd absolutely kill, for the chance to break you, down to the moment you'd submit yourself. My eagerness explains itself, but Lady Agrafena is different. And I've grown fond of her, lately. A truly attentive student, if you may. I could tell, whatever happened between you two, prevents her from unleashing out, to the degree it takes to break you. I don't think breaking you isn't even her agenda anymore."

There was an unmistakable blackness to his gaze, magnified through his glasses, as he peered into the unfocused mess he saw through. It almost felt like a bottomless pit, to Elanor. Into which he had thrown all his deviancies prior to choosing the path of God. And the rawness in his voice made clear, something in him was itching. To unleash it all on her, if only Bella were to approve. What intrigued her more, was the semblance of a voice she heard from within. It said.

Try old-man. See if you have it in you, to break me. Ha ha..

Elanor didn't understand that voice, nor it's intention. It didn't even seen real to her, for the most part. Ishikawa stopped a moment, and peered into her soul. It almost felt like he read her thoughts. Well, it wasn't her thoughts, not really. But.. He resumed.

"Contrary to appearances, you aren't exactly in it for the thrill either. Are you, virgin?"

The lump in her throat was enough of an answer.

"It's not like you are fearful of a surprise bun in the oven, you seem too refined, too resourceful, to not know the multiple preventive medicines available, tricks familiar even to a street-walker. This strange obsession of yours, this puritanical adamance, of one's chastity... Well, as difficult as it makes Bella's job, I'm happy to report, it can be done. But it comes at a cost.."

Hanging from the ceiling naked, obscenely exhibiting her pelvis, it wasn't like she hadn't noticed the costs so far. Elanor nodded, as Ishikawa continued.

"You know what I love about Heavensworth?"

What the hell is a heavenswo.. Oh, yes. The brothel I'm in. Heavensworth Manor!

"You know what makes Heavensworth special, so uniquely successful, compared to the multitude of establishments, popping up for a few months, only to collapse on its own. It's their ethics, the core values the Madame strictly demands from her girls. Except from the innately wicked bunch, the prized starlets, the kind who finds this place their calling, the majority of girls here see this as strictly a job, and not a lifestyle. They are encouraged, to find a man at the earliest. Not one of the filthy rich clients, but a commoner with a reliable-job. Doesn't matter if it's hard labor, or something menial. The point isn't to find a bread-wiener, but a stable partner, who appreciates their luck, having an actual shot, with a beauty well-above his class. And the Madame encourages the girls, to strengthen this primary relationship, to not exploit it, nor be exploited."

She didn't understand where this was going, but the Queen listened on.

"Love is hard to come, especially for the girls, wooed left and right by the hedonistic rich, pampering them with gifts. But Madam asks of them, to patiently cultivate a strong, lasting relationship, with someone of their true ilk. Not everyone deems this valuable, but all her longest working girls fits this bill, and that's no accident. She has strict rules, with regards to what's permissible, no matter how much you pay. Sure the girls may turn a blind eye, for an extra-tip, or at times, in the heat of the moment. But the healthy ones, the wise ones, rarely stray. One such rule, is no kissing. It explicitly says so, in the common room mural.. WE DON'T SELL KISS, LOVE..!! Considering this the only place of ill-repute with a reputation, for not using orcan slaves to break-in the new girls.. Which in itself, speaks a lot."

Orcan slaves..?! Is he for real? To break-in what?? That last comment made zero sense to Elanor. That wasn't the only thing that perplexed her. Seriously.! A whorehouse that espouses monogamy.?! You expect me to believe, that actually works. Perverting all notions of value within a tribe, let alone a kingdom's foundation. Even if I were to consider the chances, of an absolute whore finding a fitting beta, to make a man out of, what about the kids.?!

The Queen was so exhausted that, though well-reasoned, the vulgarity and hypocrisy in her own voice, forcing out with no filter, was in itself a surprise. She didn't know she had such disregard in her heart, for working girls. Regardless it was opted out of desperation, or pure perversion. The ones she deemed deep down, easily corruptible.

She feigned her scoff into a cough, clearing her throat, sniffling in the snot. Which didn't go unnoticed. Ishikawa could only laugh. He was no stranger to the harsh moralities of the truly privileged. Understanding not just the prejudice, but the true moral quandary that made her so dismissive, he said.

"Your distrust isn't misplaced. The disrespect, maybe a bit. That smirk of superiority only makes clear, what your thoughts are. True, no kid should grow up knowing that papa isn't man enough, that mama chose to hook around. I'd suggest coming down from the comfort of an idealistic ivory tower, before you judge. Down to the dirty, dusty grounds. This is a whore-house, dear. It's in the very nature of this profession, getting knocked up. One may stay wishful, plan and avoid for weeks, even months. But in a year or two, every one slips up. Complicated as it can be, the Madam's approach is far better, than birthing a litter of bastards, followed by a collapse into absolute self-destruction. Regurgitated through a chain of disposable lovers, intoxicants, down unto lust itself."

Elanor wasn't prepared for a debate, and she understood where he was coming from. So this is him. Not the priest, nor the erotician. But Hattori Ishikawa, the man. Finally, we meet. We are talking now. Our first proper, verbal interaction, to date. Elanor didn't feel like she needed the cover of a character to speak her mind. The Queen spoke, her voice firm and mature.

"Is that it? Your big plan for me, clergyman.? To find a man with the heart of gold, keep him my side-pet, while indulge in all things carnal.. As a secret play-girl, a Heavensworth starlet perhaps..?! I appreciate the thought you put in, but the very case you mentioned is wrought with troubles."

Her argumentation, he could take. But not the hint of disrespect, her core emotion for the moment. Maybe its the exhaustion, but that's no reason to forget one's place. Remaining stoic, Ishikawa cleared his throat, in an irritatingly audible way, followed by spitting politely to his open right palm. Without caring for the instant disdain on her face, he extended the hand, as the Queen closed her eyes, anticipating the slap. She should have known, to not push his buttons.

May be it was wrong for Poppet to speak.

Instead he went for her nape, his digits digging into her neck, like picking up a kitten. Assertion seemed to be the point, rather than pain, as he massaged her back-neck with his warm spittle. The Queen knew better, to not protest. The way his hand regulated the pressure, it had an arousing effect. If only he hadn't spat on it. Then she realized the obvious. It wasn't a punishment. But a gesture, to remind her of her place in there. Her rightful place with relation to him, that is.

He called her Poppet, and at times pet, but something about his gaze ringed much deeper. Near predatory.. Is that my place, to be prey? And how is he telling me all this, without uttering a word?

Ishikawa continued, as his grip relaxed.

"I'm sorry Poppet, I wish things were that simple. No, that isn't my plan for you. I wanted to paint a picture, the best case scenario for a professional whore, so as to contrast against what you must do."

He tapped her cheeks gently, in a comforting gesture. Elanor didn't mind anymore that he smeared the remaining spittle onto her left cheek. She didn't even mind the smell of it, as her nostrils flared. Moving on to setting up her new posture, the clergyman said.

"Certainty is beyond me. But I can help guide your Mistress, and you, through the temptations what's in you, and what's out there. I can't demand your trust, but hope to earn it eventually. But I'm afraid a leap of faith is unavoidable. I'd rather be truthful, than kind. For, to live through and keep intact your chastity, it would mean perverting, desecrating, everything else to compensate for the yearnings of this little bud."

Elanor could feel his fingertip, hovering less than an inch apart from her swollen nether bud. The pulse of her clit, much like her beating heart. Aching to be touched. Toyed, and more. Ishikawa continued.

"And I mean every other orifice, from the one every girl preserves for that very special moment with her first love, to the one you'd think to be the last place, for recreation. Prove you are up to it, and I shall continue the training. I don't know what makes you preserve the sanctity of a single hole, at the cost of every other norm, when satiating that alone could solve most, if not all, of your troubles. Be it sentiment, commitment, or unflinching faith. I don't know what drove you this far, but here we are. Remember.. Yes means yes! To all that can be done, within the set rules."

She wanted to say yes, but the shame was too overbearing. The voice just won't come out. Besides, the point of it wasn't mere confirmation. A simple yes wouldn't suffice to convey how much she meant it. And this was a man of action, him talking this long seemed almost out of character. And I know, what I must do, for him to believe.

Forgive me Bard.

Elanor leaned forward, her eyes closed, lips about to meet the clergyman's, as the ropes stopped. It was way more unbearable than the torments so far, every instance of hers from the months prior flashing in her mind, where she had given in to pleasure, or momentary confusion. Every instance of her ending up with another man in a kiss. The ones from the celibacy trial, with Jokshun in Desert Rose, those brief moments during the retirees function, particularly Volgen and her thick lips. The most despicable of all, on her lowest point in that ridiculous bitch-suit, with Jezeb, breathing into her the hallucinogen. A thought that made her skin crawl, just as she felt a pair of lips on hers. Oh God, it's an actual kiss!

Thankfully Ishikawa wasn't exploitative, at least with his lips. It stayed soft, testing waters for the most part, his tongue making an appearance, but not overstaying the welcome. It almost felt like a peck, and she was starting to feel her body revolt already. This was the first conscious, willing kiss of hers, in almost a year. The thought of kissing another, of her own volition, someone other than her beloved.. Her stomach churned, almost about to puke, if she were to prolong. Breaking the kiss, he stepped back, and walked around. Like taking a moment to appreciate the gesture, and rethink his strategy. Elanor watched in the mirror across, as she recovered from the partly-reluctant kiss, him standing right behind, with something shiny in his left hand.