Queendom 07: Swordsmaid

Shlrrrrrup..!!

He made a weird sound, clearly drying his mouth off of all all saliva, by orally inhaling. What was that..? Oh yes.. The Queen got it. For some reason, he preferred her mouth dry. The Queen did the same, drinking down all the pooled up saliva, knowing it's about to get filled back in a second. As his right hand emerged again, she got it. The shades of eroticism always fascinated her. He wants to feed her, the juice of his own making. Isn't this against the club rules..? Should I say no? Or is he trying to see where I draw the line. What about his mates?? Looking sideways quick, she realized that they had all gone to the other side.

Oh, shit.! Her skirt had come undone, and it was hanging like a straight fabric, right before her nether. Meaning her thong-clad rear and her vulva, about to slip out, made for a far interesting sight for the young hungry eyes. Though she found their restraint commendable. No one wanted to over-step, and mess up what was going so well. Like they knew, this is one rare slut. Who'd do all on her own, even without asking. A part of her knew, they weren't wrong. Within my limits, I do intend to roam free. I'm my own Mistress, after all. So long as it's tasteful. Tasteful..?!

Elanor looked ahead and finally saw a recognizable reaction of the fat man's face. A stupid grin of satisfaction. And she realized why. His left hand hovering above her open mouth, a thick rope of foreign cum filling her stretched-open cavity. You sneaky fat sailor.. The Queen was impressed. So was he, it seemed. Their eyes locked. And Elanor knew, she wouldn't be the first to blink.

"Nǐ zài fāqíng qí... Zhèngquè de, jiàn nǚrén..?!"

He said, his voice cracking, like he's about to laugh. There was a glint in his eyes, bordering on malice. Elanor didn't understand a word, but she knew this is a conversation she must engage in. She stared right back, her right brow raising, along with her cheeks in a defiant smile. With out shame or hesitation, her tongue scooped in from the right, sliding through the gap between her teeth and the bottom lip, swirling up all the thick, and truly salty ejaculate, slurping down her throat in a single audible oral inhale. Clearing her throat, as if saying.

Is that all, sailor..? Or, is there more.?

Elanor had to be the one with the last word. Over the churning of her loins. Over all that stays untamed in her. And over anyone who sought domain over her cravings. The message had to be clear, the Queen knew, to herself and the others. The music from the main bar could still be heard, loud and clear. But it's been long since this stopped being a dance. Or at least, it was a different kind of dance now.

And the way his eyes squinted, he clearly got the message. Only he was more of an immovable mover. Which he proved in a matter of seconds. His cum-plastered left hand crept downwards, as he maintained his grip on the bottom-lip, forcing the Queen to stay open. A little strain was a welcome distraction to the Queen. Much like her peeking rear was, to the rest of the crew-men. The rope still kept riding between her cheeks, but she was too pre-occupied upfront to care.

The fat man grinned as he sized up both her hanging breasts. His hard calloused palm felt like a sand-bag, grinding against her doughy flesh. He clearly had a favorite, the slightly larger one, with a sensitive nipple. At first it seemed like he was just supporting the hanging breast, like weighing it for fun. With her nipple between his fingers. As their gaze stayed locked, he tightened the grip, like kneading with his bare thick digits. Only the breast was a distraction. As her nipple got squished purple between, the Queen gave in, and the girl came out.

..aaaaaAAHH.!!!!!

All in a blink, it escaped her mouth. Loud and pleading enough to be music to his ears, he toyed with relaxing, and gripped tight again.

A sweat moan of pain, and unequivocally pleasure.

The kind that a virgin would not have known. None of the crew-men behind missed the wondrous sight, of the pretty lady's puffy slit suddenly blushing. They didn't know yet, why her knees were suddenly shaky. It didn't cross her mind, that two months had been too long a gap. That a pinch would have sufficed for her sex-starved flesh to give in, past all the mental fortifications. But the Queen knew by now, if not the war, she had surely lost this battle. For the man before, saw right through to her.

For who she had become. A mere bitch in heat.

"Jiàn nǚrén! Zhèngrú wǒ suǒ yùliào dì nàyàng.." It looked comical and intimidating at the same time, the way he chuckled, clearly mocking her state. His obese face, his pot-belly, all jiggling, as he laughed on. Slowly leaning in, his lip a few inches from her face, as her eyes strained to keep up the facade, he said.

"Wǒ wèi shénme nǐ jiù chī shénme" Followed by mimicking chewing and swallowing.

What?? He wants to kiss me..? To chew my lips.?! And swallow? I just swallowed, what does he want now.??

..nnngGGHHHH..ahh.. mmmphhHH..!!

As his fingers played her like an organ, she saw his mouth open. It looked every bit as disgusting as one would expect of a man stuck in sea for months. His teeth yellow, his spittle thick and foamy, and his tongue remarkably white. Oh no, I'm not kissing that. But the Queen knew, from the way his right-hand kept her mouth hanging open, it wasn't a kiss that interested him. And it annoyed her, how lust overrides her sense of disgust even.

Did I misread, again?! It's his eyes.. It's almost like, I woke up something in him. Something that was better left asleep. As he leaned in, a part of her truly wanted it to stop. That very small corner of her, who had always been prejudicial. Unlike the rest, remarkably willing and curious.

Here it comes, whatever it is. She closed her eyes, hoping for it to wash over quick. And regretted it shortly. Her jaw clenching it clear pain, her eyes wide open, about to well up, as her both nipples turned purple this time. His thick left palm grabbing both, and pulling down. She did not share his culture, could hardly make out his expressions, and had no idea what tongue he spoke in. But Elanor had no doubt what he just said, without uttering a word.

"You will live through all that I deem pleasurable, bitch.!! You will watch, listen, and taste it all, in its entirety. And you will want more."

He had no doubt she understood, as the fat man rolled his thick white tongue, digging his front teeth in as he unfurled it, as if cleaning his tongue, leaning down to her lips as the while. As the Queen stayed focused on the contempt in his eyes, she saw also the thick pooling spittle, meat scrapes, mead and what-not collate, about to drip onto her open bottom lip. Her throat had dried up long before, and her tongue stayed stuck to the roof. But she knew what must do, just as he had mimicked earlier. He wants to watch her feast on his oral refuse, chew its thickness, and swallow it whole. And he wants to watch her cheeks blush in shame, knowing what he made her do.

She understood it all, without him even saying a word, just as the stench pierced her nostrils.

The sudden wetness soaking her thong string...

That she didn't understand. At all.

Are you really letting this happen, Nora..?

SLAP..!!

Cracking like a thunder, it resounded in the small booth, much like the ripple it created on her right ass cheek. It felt absolutely numb, with the burn slowing kicking in but her rear had gotten used by now, unlike a nipple. She didn't flinch. Luckily, her new fat Master wasn't too keen on loud noises. For him, the sound came out of nowhere, bursting the bubble of dominance he had been projecting till then. Releasing both hands, he looked to the skies startled, maybe a reflex from sailing through a too many thunderstorm storms.

As he fell far back into the seat cushion, the whole furniture creaked , making the room burst out in laughter. The man had clearly lost his dominance, and Elanor couldn't understand why she put with his antics. What was in him so domineering, I wonder, that made my knees go weak, in the first place.?! Was all that just a bluff?? A loud sneeze would have sufficed, it seems, to make him back off. She felt stupid. Besides, it was too hard to not laugh, the way he wobbled back. Elanor averted her face, partly to check who just slapped her ass, partly so she didn't infuriate the fat man any further.

There was a tall skinny man sitting right behind staring at her, with the end of the thick-rope in his hand. So that was it. He had grabbed the hanging end, and cracked it like a whip, right onto her bareback. Was it because they felt left out, with me focusing on the other one.? It wasn't, and she realized in an instant why. There was a fresh mark on his forearm, like it had been lightly burned, with remnants of drying wax alongside. The candle she knocked off earlier. The wax must have spilled onto his hand. Those are really long hands, she noticed. With strong sinews, probably from years of raising sail and tying knots. May be she should have tended to him first.

Elanor noticed the small peep-hole in the private-room door get covered. Borislav! She smiled. He must have heard the yelling, and was checking if I was okay. She nodded at the shadow, in affirmative, and he left. It was of great comfort to her, knowing that dutiful gentle giant was a call away. If things were to spiral out, she could always rely on him. She remembered who terrified it felt, that night when he saw her face in full light. To think that his presence would make her feel safe.. Shaking her head in smile, she looked back, down at her audience. The skinny tall crew-men, who felt it necessary to whip her ass. It was hard to make out his expressions, as he shouted, somewhat annoyed.

"Jìnu.. Nǐ shāole wǒ..!" He swung the rope, back to her.

"I understand.." The Queen said, standing up, turning to face him. She liked his eyes. A bit irritated, surely. But they weren't condescending like the fat bastard before. He was just annoyed. Of getting burned a bit, and made to sit and watch. Instead of being pleasured and pampered, like promised. I'll pamper you, sailor boy. I'll pamper you real good. The Queen said, fueled by the heat in her underbelly, thanks to the man before, as her gripped the end of the rope with her left toe, and chucked it back to him.

"Grip that chord. And follow my lead."

That came as an order. And he showed no trouble complying. The sheep sure are well trained, wherever they are from. The Queen noted, as stepped over the rope, her hair falling over her shoulders, covering her sensitive nipples. She adjusted her skirt, now tying it sideways like a sarong, teasing not just her hanging bottom bulges, but her pulsing pussy, from the right angle. She seemed back in full command, poles apart from the moaning mess a moment ago. These men were to be served, by their Queen! And you skinny, you'll be the luckiest of them.

Medicate him dear.! Orally, and dermally. The voice was back, and she sounded way more seductive. The instruction was vague, at best. But her body seemed to get the message, as her fingers toyed with her thong strings. The skinny was getting restless, and he began to shout again, Only he saw the Queen stare him down. Her lips pouted, saying..

Sssshhhh..!!

With him, the whole table waited for her next move. The thong got undone on her right-hip, and it spiraled down, resting around her left feet. It was soaked with her juices. Orally, huh.?! Elanor picked up the messy thong with her left toe, her right hand gripping the rope above for balance, and plunged it into the stein of mead to her side. Not knowing what to expect, they stayed looking up at the goddess before, jaw dropped. She was interested only in one, at the moment.

Elanor slowly lowered the juicy piece of fabric down the skinny guy's open mouth, shutting his jaw slowly with her foot. And she got down to her haunches, all the while scanning the hungry eyes all around. As the baffled skinny simply complied, the obese one smirked from behind. For he knew what she just said, with uttering once.

"This time, I'll feed. You'll have no choice but take. Tasting me, like no maid shall ever volunteer. And you will want more."

Even with his mouthful, and clearing chewing on the royal desert, he hadn't let go of the end of the rope. Elanor signaled him to keep holding it tight. Like she wanted him to keep that rope strained, hard and erect, like what's expected of his manhood. Looking down on his recently reddened forearm, at the spattered wax still stuck to the skin, she whispered.

Now, for the dermal medication. Let me nurse you, with my lips.

The Queen lowered herself all the while down, resting her knees on the circular wooden block, her right hand still holding on o the rope for balance. And the guy couldn't believe the sight before his eyes. A woman of clear noble blood, illegitimate or not, splaying her thighs. His hand gripping the rope right between her legs, feeling the raw heat from her ass-cheeks. Her bare shame hovering over his forearm, inches away from his full mouth. Her vulvic lips, peeking out every now and then, underneath the flimsy sarong.

He couldn't believe it when he felt. Her tender pussy lips kissing the hairy, dirty forearm, of a mere deck-cleaner. His nails filed, skin blackened and blistered, by mopping floors for months bare-hand. All to be kissed well, by the nether lips, of an angel as such. His heart filled, before his loins did. Though it was a close race.

Drinking in the wonder, the worship in his eyes, the Queen started straddling the extended forearm, as her right right hand locked digits with his left palm, making it all the more personal to him. Their palms crossed, like some sinful paramours, sweating profusely from heat of the other. Heat, and lust, and all that only flesh stirs in flesh. As the world around watched awestruck. A world of six intoxicated crew-men, that is.

As she straddled on, slathering her juices over his sinewy arm, he noticed the way it gripped on to his skin. Something about it felt pure, and unmolested. Like a virgin's kiss. How heavenly would it feel, oh God! It wrapped around my dick, straddling slowly, as she pleases. I curse the lucky bastard who gets to bed this bitch.

Her heat needs be shared. And not sparsely!

They looked like a weird tableau, a forbidden diagram from the ancient erotic archives. The room was every bit sensually charged, each soul watching it unfold, awestruck. Very different than what she expected of her audiences.

Of the corner of her vision, she saw the hungry eyes, huddled over their lucky friend, commenting on her beauty, in their tongue, and at times broken English. She distinctly remembered one, from when she had raised slightly, shifting her weight to the left. The thin fabric of her skirt, blowing upward for a second, and the youngest among them screaming in delight.

"No hair pussy! NO HAIR PUSSIEE..!!"

Even with her head stretched back, straddling the hand between, the words made her blush, deep in rapturous disgrace. The same shame that swept over, while she shaved away the last bits of her luxuriant bush. The one that rested now, encapsulated and strung to her neck. The way the cold bronze cylinder rubbed beneath her nape reminded her of it's owner.

You arrogant cheating swashbuckler. Bet you'd wish you were in this room..Haha..!

The skinny guy was lost to his own world. He cursed the moment the candle fell, hoping had it fallen on someplace else. There where plenty other spots on his skin, he'd love to let this Goddess graze her lips. Either would do, but he preferred the lower lips. Even with the whorish hairlessness, something about that loins oozed of innocence. He would know, for he had treasured enough virgins, on all his years sailing. Four of them married to him, on four different port cities. And countless bastards spread across the lands of men. Such was a sailors life. But for this majestic mermaid, he'd have given all them up. Such was the pull of her lips. Her tender nether lips.

He felt his erection strain, underneath the tight pants. He forgot to loosen the belt, and now his dick strained in the tent, the veins about to pop, his balls so full. He wanted to feel her fingers, caress its way down his groin. His ball-sack all hers, to chortle, or stretch of slap. For this goddess, he didn't mind. If only one of his hands were free.

There was a wicked grin on the corner of her lips, as she felt his grip loosen between her fingers. Trying to get your hands free, huh?! It was the most common reaction to her performances. The men staying astonished, yet their hands disappearing underneath. It's near impossible to watch her work, and not stroke. Not for the starved absolute breeding bulls, who'd frequent such joints. But this time, she was in control. Not the Queen, but the voice beneath. The Mistress of her domain.!

And no, there won't be any stroking. You are not substituting that hand for my pussy. Your cum is mine. And I want it spurting, unassisted.

Much like him, Elanor was too on the clock. Of her very own pleasure. The heat in her core was building up by the moment, and she had no doubt this time, she needed a release. Must be a great show for them all. But she didn't care, and nor did her Mistress. Elanor was being easy on herself. Though not too easy, as amidst all the pleasure, she kept reminding herself, the rules of the night.

As long as I'm not the first to cum, I win. The Queen thought confidently, watching the reaction in skinny's eyes. And this fool is fighting hard, but he is just about to erupt. And his cries will make me too..Come on my sailor. Cum all over those pants. Bless me with thine wicked scent. Scrape it alongside my forehead.

The explicit ramblings in her mind made little sense. But it meant the world to her this moment, to have him edge on creaming. The skinny too felt his member pulse, his balls clenching tight, aching for release. In the bliss of it all, she felt a thick slimy palm, creeping up her neck from behind. And she welcomed the touch. Anything, to make my sailor cum.

SLAM..!!!

The blinding light from the corridor made them all cower, as Borislav walked in like the ultimate obstructionist. The whole room shouted in protest, surprisingly Elanor joining them. This was her effort, her reward. To see this man cum, without ever stroking. She was so close, to the bliss of it all. Hell, he was too. Why the sard, Boris.!!

Like picking a kitten, he grabbed the Queen by the shoulder, and led her down the table, almost pushing out to the corridor. As he did, he started screaming to the men, in broken English, and his strange speech.

"Žiadne dotyky v miestnosti... ŽIADNE PRENIKNUTIE!"

"Wǒmen méiyǒu pèng..! Dōu shì tā.."

The men were furious. But none dared to push his buttons, as Boris said aloud.

"Žiadne dotyky! Pre feláciu choďte do kabínky..!"

Wondering why the sudden fuss, she saw at the back corner, what made him react so rash. The thick hand she felt on her neck. It was the fat man, the one she had embarrassed. He was standing there, stark naked, his dick erect and ready to pound. That big a dick?! Not just fat, huh sailor? Wait.. Was he a hair away from mounting me?! The thought crossed her mind, but not enough to sober up quick. Bliss was still coursing through her blood. It had been too long, after all.

She got the gist.

NO SEX IN ROOMS.. NO DICKS OUT!!

"If you need sex, pay and book a blowjob booth."