Queendom 09: A Night Still Young

"Okay, I will then. I heard that's not the Duke's kid. The whole thing was propaganda, to save face. And her being kept in solitude helped avoid suspicion.The news of her kid spread years after going solitude. My guess, she got impregnated right here, in this room. And the older members said she was begging for it. Like she hoped if she proved insatiable enough, maybe they'd help smuggle her out. Even if to be kept as a personal slut. But her bewitchment failed. We, the Order, gave her precisely what she deserved. A noble bastard.!"

"Really, then why did one of our own, Sir Lancet's estate took the child under his wing.."

"The Old man Lancet.?!"

Klavin was engrossed, as Wistrom's fidgeting fingers crawled up beneath the masked girl's skirt.

"No, his Great Uncle. Lancet the First."

"I don't know. Charity, perhaps.." Wistrom scoffed.

"Klavin, you are new here. And the parties get wild, for sure. But not every crime is irredeemable. Nor the Order, in whole, a vessel for misogyny. They were peers, the three. Lancet, Marishka, and the Duke. And Lancet had always loved the Duchess. Unrequited, of course. Some say the Duchess had no clue of the Duke's plan. Or that she was blinded by love. I have heard, from stories passed from older ones, that she came to meet her old friend, Lord Lancet. To let him glimpse her face, one last time. To apologize for ignoring his heart, may be to share her love with him even. Because it's true that she gave in, by name, to Lord Lancet the First. To requit, could have been why she agreed to the party in the first place. It certainly explains the readiness.."

"Or in solitude she realized how great a slut she had always been.. You are ridiculous at times, Lordship." Wistrom slurred, mauling the large breast that slipped out. The masked girl was visibly irritated, and even Klavin looked a bit pale. Wistrom asked.

"That your conclusion, Tarquin? That a hall full of men, peers of her own father, had their way, with actual whores witnessing from the sides, and she 'endured' it all. That she fucked them fifty, just to fuck one guy."

"I didn't say she ever had sex with him even. I think it's the Duke's kid, and fearing his estate would disown, or torment the child, I think she came to request the only man she had any hopes of begging to. I think she made the trip to have a word. Whether she endured the rest, or enjoyed it full, you speculate. But we all know that Lord Lancet loved him like his own son. He never married, and the kid inherited his estate."

Tarquin didn't understand why the more he spoke, the more he felt the warmth of Lady Deminica against him. Something unlike the suffocating heat of the lust-filled Great Hall. Something real, something rare.

Klavin said suddenly.

"Wow! I never heard any of these.. Frankly I just chose it for the mask bit.."

"Why Klavin? Is she that rare a beauty, that you fear one of us may snatch her up quickly.?"

There was a hint of discomfort, but Klavin snapped back throwing the leash, that was attached to her mask, to the drunk Wistrom.

"I wish. The cow is too ugly, so she needs a mask, if any man here is to take a liking to her. I have a thing for a stout body. You'd be surprised by what an unloved ugly cow would do to please a man. Well, not in this room.. But generally.."

"No judgements here boy. These udders makes up for it, I'd say. Mind if I take her for a spin?"

"Only if you can treat her right.."

"Like a cow?!"

"Close. A breeding stock!"

Bella rolled her eyes again. These clowns. She didn't want to leave the General's side. No, it wasn't a matter of convenience. She wanted to stay by his side. Or something in her did. But I must leave now. To check up on Nora. I need an opening.

Why am I feeling so tense suddenly. It's not like the Queen's in any true danger.

Right?

The worries weren't baseless. Order members purposefully employed stable-men from the horse rearing community of the west front outskirts. They were not the greatest fans of King Barthomius, nor his father's rule, suffering greatly from the border assaults. This was why the royal stablemen contracts was given to the north-eastern tribesmen for the last five years. It also didn't help that right after Queen Elanor took charge, they were hit with another brutal raid, orchestrated by the hardliners of her administration. Across the kingdom of Wolkenshire, there may be a handful of communities that were unreasonably critical of the Queen's rule, but only one hated her completely.

I must get to Her Highness. I must go now.

**

*

It's one thing to enjoy the appreciation of a drunken audience, by the smell in the air of them all creaming their pants. Its another thing to stare straight at the leaking erection of your doing, inches from your face. Elanor's eye-brows rose up all the way, eyes bulging and her glistening lips agape on its own. The short guy's six inch penis looked the thickest, the guy to his right with the eight inch cock, had the the best looking one. Beauty in cocks? Seriously Nora.?! And the guy standing behind her just hung his lengthy meat right over her shoulder. It was rather thin. A smile grazed her face as she bowled up her both hands below her face, and let copious salivary fluids pool up in her palms. She kept smiling, as if lost in the hilarity of it all.

Is this all even happening? Or just on of those dreams? The wet kind.

Elanor eagerly plastered her palms to the two pairs of balls to her right, massaging them and continuing to lather up their entire cocks in the lubricant of her throat. But her eyes stayed fixed on the one cock to her left. The least veiny, the most clean, and the most substantial. Her lips went straight towards, that eager tongue reaching out.

The three were quite surprised by this change in pace. It seemed less and less like they were humiliating her. Like they had no hold over her. If anything she lead their eyes. The rhythm of their beats, the pulse of their peckers. Titillating them, with every sound of hers. The short guy muttered, slightly disheartened. "Well, it's only fair. I had my fun. Now let her have hers."

She felt like a mage, the way her mere gaze stirred his loins, enough to keep his serpent staring right back at her. Like it was mimicking her moves, her tongue an inch from his tip, the erection straining to bridge the gap. As if possessed, she dropped both the dicks she had been stroking till then, and leaned further, her eyes focused at the widening pee-hole, the mushroom crown that looked as smooth as a ripe capsicum. Her lips pouted, as she fought the urge to slurp it.

No, that wouldn't be necessary. He's right there, even without.

The other two men had begun stroking themselves watching the fairest slut to have come their way, more intrigued by her upper class seduction techniques.

So this is a cock truly looks like. Right at thew edge. Huh!

Elanor was in no hurry of being caught, nor was at a dark blowjob booth like before. It was well lit, and she felt in total control, and strangely at peace. She could watch the fruit of her labor right now. Still, just to be sure. Elanor blew slowly through her pouted lips, the breeze adding to the bliss upon his erection, as the guy prepared for the outflow.

Still shy?! May be just..

She raised her hand, her right pinky right below his penis, and gently grazed her nail along the bridge connecting his crown to the shaft. And she saw it, the moment of eruption. A glowing white sphere, a pearl bead emerge out his pee-hole, and shoot straight up. She didn't blink, she couldn't as it splatted upon the spot right between her eyes, and dripped down, along her nose. She realized why her mouth may have stayed open all this while, as her tongue stretched up, eagerly anticipating the taste of it. Wondering the texture could be to her liking. May be an eager feminine presence is all it takes, more than the superficiality of beauty. Both the men came right then, as she tasted the man-juice, cum spraying on to her head, her neck and shoulders.

Why does this make me giggle, of all things.?

Elanor couldn't tell. It was getting harder and harder, parsing the mysteries of body, from mysteries of mind. She didn't cum, her nether never twitched. Yet the feeling of fresh ejaculate dripping through the skin, mixing with her sweat. Why does it then, send a bliss up my spine? Why does it make my nipples chill? Why is it that my smile won't stop?

"That'll do gents. Step aside. You'll have your turn later."

One of the two from the very back walked up, as the men made way. His cocky attitude was evident from the way his left hand swayed, as his right hand twirled quite effortlessly what seemed to me an iron walking stick. Wind blazed the camp-fire to their right, and she saw in his piercing eyes the glowing embers. What was his name? Billet? No, that's the indifferent one. This is the fidgety hot-head.

"Greetings Her Highness, myself Frederich. You may call me Fred. And that there is Billet, my cousin. How good of you to honor us, in a birthday suit no less!"

Elanor kept looking up at him. A big-mouth, huh? And with an attitude. As if to overcompensate.. Hehe.. The Queen couldn't help but smirk. A man is hilarious enough at times. Imagine a boy, trying to measure up in hilarity.. Oh! He didn't like it. He did not like it, one bit.

Looking back and nodding at Billet, Frederich continued.

"Highness may shout Fred, for anything. When your mouth isn't occupied, that is. You know what, make it Lord Fred! What do you think guys.."

The men around shook their heads in mockful disapproval, as Billet straight up face-palmed.

"You ungrateful ruffians! Look, even Her Highness Clit-locked seems unimpressed now. Now what do we Rachetty boys do to the casually unimpressed??"

He asked loudly, as he did a spin, twirling around his cane.

WHAT??

The men played along, and even Elanor leaned in. He seems extremely agile. Maybe he can measure up.

"We IMPRESS!!"

He did another twirl and stood erect, pointing his cane at the Queen's face, it's flat edge pushing into her right cheek. Billet face-palmed again, like this was a routine he had advised against. The men couldn't be more baffled. The boy had a certain flair. But at times he can be so erratic. Embarrassingly so. Billet thought.

Elanor didn't notice any of those, including the metal kissing her cheek. Her eyes nearly popped, as her jaw dropped, rendering her speechless. As with his legs, Fred had even quicker hands. And it took him no time, mid-twirl, to loosen the strings of his locksley bottoms. And the Queen sure was impressed. Hanging down right before was a girthy juicy shaft, all man and no boy, near ten inch in it's semi-hard state, with its crown a little shy behind the foreskin.

"Yor eye's on the wrong rod, Lock-clit! I meant my little assistant here.."

Elanor realized he meant the walking stick, the one pushing against her cheek. He softly scraped the dripping saliva off her chin which its flat end. I drooled just now?? Get a grip Nora!

Its end wasn't just flat, it was a symbol. A long metal piece, bend into an oval, a horse shoe, with a capital R in the middle, in the old font. I've seen this, in the reports. The notorious herdsmen clan. The Rachetties..! Elanor didn't realize she said the last part out loud.

"Oh! The Queen knows her subjects well. Now I'm impressed. A correction however. Not a seal. It's a Rachetty Clan Brand, like Daisy's ass right there."

Fred cackled pointing the iron cane to their left.

What in the.. Elanor was a little worried as she spotted Daisy, the grey horse tied next to the pillar. With a large Rachetty Seal burnt into its rear. The hell.. Is that a branding iron?

"Don't worry, its a smaller size. For piglets and goats. We like our cattle skin-branded. And the way you mucked up all those filth, like a horny hungry swine.. This is your ultimatum dear."

Elanor glanced at Billet, then Fred and back. Is he being serious? Billet still continued with the face-palm, but he seemed to be laughing at the hilarity of his cousin. Frederich continued.

"You put on a good show so far. Now do a good job polishing my tool, and I'll have the lads resume your buffet. Fail to impress me, and I'll have you branded as a Rachetty Breeding stock, right here, right now."

Elanor took a quick scan of the others. The stablemen were shocked, if not intrigued, but clan-kids, including Billet seemed much at ease. Is this boy being a bit dramatic. Is this like, his shtick?

As Elanor kept staring his way, Fred chucked the iron at the clan-member standing next to the fire.

"MAXIM! Get it glowing, will ya? The Queen seems too impatient."

It didn't take long to figure out the hot-head before. He's clowning, this is an intimidation tactic. But why? With me already kneeling. Maybe he's just a boy after all, despite the endowment. Oh mine, that does look delicio.. NORAA..!!

Maxim, the leaner one to the left, was all too enthusiastic to please his brother, fanning the flames as he dipped the branding iron into the embers. Elanor looked back at Fred, as he grinned.

Okay boy. You want to play 'Scare the Queen'? I'm game.

Elanor cowered down, her eye-brows curving up, mock-quivering her puff lips.

"Please don't my Lord! I'll be good. I'll treat you nice.."

Don't oversell it, Nora..! Oh, you're a disgrace.

"Wow! Drama Queen too, aren't you? Much like the real deal, huh.."

That comment almost made her snap. She knew what he was referring to, as his friends laughed. The incident on the week she lost Barthomius. In the Royal procession of mourning through the capitol, where she broke down crying, to the embrace of her Papa, as the weeping crowd witnessed. A conduct quite controversial, when Queens are expected to mourn in silence, in privacy. A major argument of her critics, during her coronation court discussions, touted as a clear sign of weakness. But later scholars argued, based on her unprecedented acceptance amongst the commoners, that the gesture likely inadvertently humanized her. Such explanations meant nothing to Elanor, for it wasn't a memory she preferred dissecting.

The sudden flash of rage, however did give Fred a near-stroke. For a moment it felt, like he met his death. Her better sense whispered.

Don't. Just.. Don't.

He's just a kid. With hateful heart, addled in hormones, weakened by intoxicants.. What does he know?

Just focus on something else.. The wind, the bonfire.. The heat.

Without being prompted, Elanor waded forward, her mouth caressing the shaft with a hot angry exhale. Did it grow short suddenly? I scared him, it seems.. He smells good though. Cleaner, younger. Even the pubes properly trimmed, or had they failed to sprout yet.. My little boy with a big willy, haha.. So thick, and hanging ..ummnghh..

Elanor bit on to his hardening shaft-skin, with great care, like biting on to a kitten. It did hang down limp, much like a kitten, she thought. Oh oh.. He's waking up quick. Her tongue kept drawing circles, as she moved along the shaft, up and down, waiting for his glans to emerge completely. His fear subsided, and soon at cocky air returned, his loud mouth resuming.

"Yeah Queenie, like that. Just like that."

She kissed the tip of his cock, smooched and sucked in the glans like a ripe strawberry, as her gaze shifted up, meeting his.

"So again, Queen Clit-locked. Make it good. Else I'd mark you as property. It would be a shame to burn into such smooth skin, so.."

POP!

Elanor popped her lips with his crown, a gesture that added to his erection almost in a blink. She nodded, smiling.

"Yes, His Lordship. I shall please.."

She picked up on a worrying flash of madness in his glare. Like he meant every word, and more. Like her burning stare pushed his ego, a little too far. The sound of Maxim fanning the flames, the rustling of the embers, and the anticipation of the men around, all quieted down in her mind. And a single image flashed.

A beautiful wide mural, hung atop the Royal Court entrance. It showed two servants near-stoically holding a large mirror, which reflected the strange marriage of agony and ecstasy, as the maiden before screamed, her cries spurting out through the ball-gag, as smoke arose from her rear. Much like 'The Writhing Royal' of Sir Greccon. Only it wasn't the Order's symbol, but a Rachetty clan Brand. Nor was it Madelene, who screamed into her reflection.

Did he mean? No, he couldn't have. He was pushing the game. Scaring his Queen. Still, calling the bluff wouldn't be wise, if he's to stay by my side all night. Well, we wouldn't get to find. For I take pride in a job well done.

Elanor kept staring up at him, her thumbs massaging the very base of his shaft, the weight of it resting on her chin, as her tongue kept circling the crown, getting wafted with her warm breath. Yet against the risk of being marked, a part of her still hated his arrogance. Wanting to regret rubbing her the wrong way.

I can make you regret, I know ways.

I may just squeeze your balls, and make you wish had skipped the party. And my teeth aren't just for show. Or.. Or I can simply give you the best blowjob in the whole of Wolkenshire, bewitch you by my lips and then.. Hehe.. Then just leave, depriving you its pleasure, for all time. That'd be a fine revenge. A real sweet one.

Fed up with the teasing he grabbed her ears and pushed closed, as she instinctively dropped the jaw and pushed her tongue outwards. Elanor struggled to breath with the thick shaft already in her throat two-third, wondering how to ease their tensions. His brother suggested to all.

"How about this.? We count down to twenty, and if she hadn't made him cum, we brand her whip her ass as well.!"

The whole throng cheered and hooted and Elanor could only figure that this cant be any good.

"No no, no countdowns. This is a competitive bitch, you will just fuel her passion. Besides I'm not the game, she is.."

"How's the bitch? How's the bitch?"

The shout-outs all seemed too eager to witness her fail.

"Mediocre so far.. Old hags could chew better than this swine. Haha.. oh.. WOW!"

Elanor smiled in between slurping his balls, finding the loud-mouth at a loss for words. Soon she plunged his dick inside orally inhaling loudly, adding to his pleasure, stopping only as the crown of his hard dick hit the back of her slimy throat, more than half of it still outside. She wrapped her lips around his enormous girth, her tongue swishing and slathering saliva all around within, as her head move back and forth like clock work. Spit drool out of her lower lips as her hands rise and spread it across her chest, then moving to the nearby waiting semi hard penises. Stroking then at an even pace, she didn't want then hard and ready yet. She had to best this elder first. It wasn't to her liking, the way he mocked her skills. My skills?! What am I thinking? A moment of consciousness made her pause. Only to be pushed aside by his pulsing penis.

Elanor rose more up, still on her knees, for a better angle, relaxed the throat, and gently pushed the head further in. It was thicker than any dick she had in there so far, and was definitely stretching her throat well. The way her throat felt now, was how she imagined a snake would feel swallowing. Gulp by gulp, inch by inch. Elanor wasn't even close to her limits. She had enough practice the whole last week, and the lessons from Volgen sure helped.She pushed the tongue out further, and massaged the underside. She suppressed her urge to cough, evened her breathing and continued. It annoyed her that she couldn't cradle his balls without leaving the others unsatisfied. So she cradled theirs instead.