Queendom 09: A Night Still Young

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No one is watching Nora.!

You aren't the only slut around, each got company, more than enough actually. Where else are you get a chance, to give decadence its due, outright in public. Just focus on Sir Lancet, and whore on..

It didn't even occur to her, that she just addressed herself as a slut, a whore. This wasn't done for the task, nor for treatment. It felt needful to please, and sinful to waste, a cock so old and bold. The truly seasoned meat. She did it, not for Bella, not even for the sweet sanity of Nora. She did it in service, for something deep and dormant. An urge, an itch, or was it the beast waking?

She couldn't tell. And she'd have stayed entranced, if not for the booming voice.

"Good Lord, Sir Lancet! I see that age hadn't put a dent on your spirit."

"Well, it's hard to cripple a boner. Ain't it, His Holiness..? So good of you to make it."

Lancet sounded extremely elated, like meeting an old friend. Who was the friend, though? It wasn't the loudness, the tone, or the crass nature, that broke her blissful trance, but the familiarity. She knew that voice, she had heard it before, and not just in passing. And if she recognized it, not facing him seemed the safer bet.

"The sermon took long to wrap up. One can't exactly rush the matters of Allfather, right? But you know I wouldn't miss this party for the world."

"By the way, the Black-Rose! One of yours.? Is that a true blue-blood this time? And a virgin at that?!"

The old man sounded truly curious.

"Close enough. Not a pure blue-blood. But of definite noble birth. High standing, by any measure. Warrior blood. And a virgin, that I can say confidently. Let's see if she manages to keep it that way."

You bastards! Elanor felt furious. With what little she knew, unlike the rest, the Black-Rose didn't seem to be there by choice. Her consent to the condition sounded questionable at best, and she had been juiced up on aphrodisiac for at least an hour now. If the girl is an actual virgin, if she ends up submitting herself to the Order, in her good conscience Elanor couldn't consider it a proper consent. Who she was, and what made her agree to such a task, remained a mystery. And making it worse, Elanor couldn't shake off this unusual feeling, like she knew this girl. It's funny that, how all the anger and frustration only fueled her to suck harder and deeper.

"Ooohoh..OH! What a dame, this one.! Excellent suction, you Ice-Princess of mine.."

"Quality stuff, huh? I can tell from the bob.."

Elanor rushed to finish him off. The last thing needed was a running commentary. Lancet enquired.

"But tell me now. How did you convince that young thing? Don't tell she came seeking repentance?"

"Sort of.. If you consider true-love a sin. Mate, you know I can't give you details. I promised her anonymity."

Lancet never liked hearing no. He gripped Elanor by the skull, and began controlling the bob. She hated it, losing what little agency remained. Let me do what I love my way, Old man..!

What I 'love', Nora?! This is gettin..

"So skip the specifics, Clergyman. Stick to the bare bones. I can read between."

"You persistent old dog. Okay.. She's a teacher, of sorts. And her lover, a budding mercenary. Well, the lover-boy did some odd-job, for an unsavory kind.."

"More unsavory than us..? What, pagans?!"

"No kidding. The kid didn't know at the time, his client's worshiped false gods, but now.. Well you know the law, aiding pagans is high treason. He could hang."

"So the girl comes for what? Your help, your guidance.? A pardon, perhaps?"

"Of sorts.. Her concerns are cosmic. Saving his soul, from the eternal fire pit. Young love, you see.. Willing to riskit all! Hehe.. Well, I convinced her, that she may be able to alleviate his suffering, if she were.."

"If she were to share his suffering... In flesh and blood, through lust and moaning. You sneaky bastard. How often does that trick work?!"

"More often than you think. What's the saying.? Love is wild and blind. And mostly dumb?! Haha..!"

This is cruel.. And disgusting.!

How dare he pull something so vicious, under my reign.?

Elanor felt furious. How could a clergyman allow himself into such decadence? Well, Ishikawa is a special case. But even he never stepped over to something truly malicious.And to make it worse, I can't do a thing to stop this. Not right now, at least.

She could sense the change in his pelvic pulse, the old man is about to cum. She didn't know if it was her exemplary fellation, or the depraved narration than made him maintain the erection for so long, at this age. Lancet asked.

"But how did you get her to agree? Does she even know we are the Order? Her presence here itself could be treasonous.."

"Well, ain't the devil in the details. The same details the poor thing failed to get clarity on, when I made the suggestion. Mind you, I never forced her. I merely suggested, her undergoing something adjacent to a pagan ritual, understanding it's allure without risking the actual sin, and coming out the other end with renewed faith in All-father. You notice the way her lips quivering..? It's not writhing, it's her chanting the verses from the Holy Writ. How divine and stupid a way, to whore oneself, hehe.. Isn't it in the nature, of Divine Judgements, to seem irrational?!"

"You got that right. Sometimes even I sense the pagan spirits when the party gets wild..Good one."

"Haha.. And I suggested, if she wants, I can help her through. Assured her anonymity even. She's putting herself through this, in her mind, to save his soul. I mean, if she wishes to do so, wouldn't it be wrong, to not be of help. After all, I'm a man of God.."

"Yes, you are, you devil.. So she stays strong the whole night, and then what? It isn't like you to let them loose so easy.."

"You think she won't break.?! I mean her spirit is quite rare, but look at the lithe thing..! I hear the boys are betting on it. I personally don't think she'll submit, and she does have a mean grip, but come on.. You think, she won't drop a key, by midnight??"

"I don't care for a half-victory, I'd like the Black-Rose to submit. And so do you, you devil, hehe.. So stop playing dumb, and tell me.. What's in store for her, really..??"

Shaking his head at the old fried, the Holy-man explained.

"Well, the boy is awaiting trial. And I can use my connections to push it by a year, or two most. In a moment of desperation, she had presented me with their love-notes, for proof. And get this, if those notes were to get released, she could be tried alongside. Or at least a talented extortionist can make her believe so, such that.."

"What extortionist.?"

Lancet smirked, his hands bobbing the suction-skull evenly. Elanor too had stopped rushing, she wanted to hear their plans. She didn't know how, but she wanted to help that poor thing.

"I don't know.. Would you like the custody of those letters..? She'll have no choice but to obey your each whim. I mean, I'm a man of faith, but I can't interfere in matters of law. She may choose to contact the authorities, but I highly doubt it. And you know better to cover your tracks. Weren't you the one complaining last time, that Lady Rosalind would appreciate a play-toy to sate her own drives as well. A sub's sub.. Consider this a gift.!"

"Oh man.. Where can one find a better friend?! What a.. AH! Aaaahhh..!!"

The old man shuddered in his seat, as his friend cackled. Instead of a weak spurt, Elanor felt an actual splatter. Sir Lancet came, and it was every bit as watery as he had promised. But he made up for concentration, in quantity. For it was quite the flow.

Oh wait.. That's not just cum.. That's eww.. God, I hope no one's looking..

The Queen indeed was being observed, and not just by the hungry lechers around. Watching from the corner was her Mistress. Bellatrix of Agrafena, in disguise. She wasn't going to leave the safety of her employer to a Head-maid, away from the security of the castle, amidst the men who sought her dethroning. Bellatrix was surprised still, at how little it took for her Queen to surrender to the role. Her internal turmoil, her trembling fingers, quite obscured by the distance. Also she couldn't have guessed, that Elanor did so, partly to hide from the young viscount.

She wasn't judging the Queen. After all, this was her idea. And she certainly wasn't going to criticize Her Highness, particularly in a room full of Queens, all wantonly subjugating themselves. Peer-pressure alone could drive one deep into wilderness.

Bellatrix had stayed in the shadows for the most part, because Elanor was only part of the plan. She was here for the Domestic Espionage, the Head of Households of the Wolkenshire throne on her first ever surveillance mission, and her tasks differed vastly from her employer's.

Bella walked down the corridor, thanking Almighty for making her far less a sexual-being, compared to her Queen. It wasn't that she lacked the education, awareness, or even proper impulse in matters of carnality. Nor was she mesmerized by concepts like chastity, repressing herself at all costs. She just wasn't the kind to find her poison, deep in the loins.

It wasn't in her make-up.

Or so she thought.

**

*

*

Royal Dread

Walking towards the restroom, past a series of near-obscene art collection adorning the wide hallway, Elanor felt disturbed by what Sir Lancet had said.

"Oh dear, you remind me so much of my better-half.."

As her core churned Elanor knew enough, to not mistake it for a soulful sweet sentiment.

Forget 'better'.. I highly doubt there'd be any good, being the 'half' of such an ailing scum.

It surprised her, the swift shift in her own perception, once the trance had waned off. Then again the kind of men who derived pleasure, from the absolute disdain in a woman's eye, had always been a mystery. Her fury got deflated with shame, noticing the drop of the piddle, leaking out the corner of her lips. Of course, she had been fighting all this while, the urge to spit out, or swallow, with each step. The strong acidic tang seemingly stretching time, as she neared the restroom, holding the bed-pan right under her bare bosoms.

From the weight it was evident, that the pan hadn't been emptied for a while. It wasn't uncommon for the aging lords, to have the hospice make such arrangements, to prevent frequent trips to relieve, especially for ones with troubled mobility. It was unheard of however, for the Ruling Monarch to be carrying the piss-pot, no matter how distinguished 'His Lordship' had been.

Why did you blow him, again?! After all, the only service the paraplegic had actually requested, was to clear his bed-pan. Everything else was her own doing, arguably. Feeling cold throat down, from the melting ice-cube from earlier, and contrasting it against the mouthful of warm elderly emiction, only added to the bizarreness of the night. She didn't want the pan spilling, and the heels made it impossible to run. The last thing she wanted was creating a piss-soaked spectacle on the floor.

Elanor almost gargled the liquid with her frustrated scream, as she pushed the rest-room door. Placing the pan down, she went straight to the first sink, puking out the foul mixture, plunging her head in the water barrel by the side, then spitting back into the sink. After a couple of repeated rinses, she finally looked in the mirror.

What are you doing, Nora? I mean..

The recent stint at Desert Rose came in handy, as it took no time to fix her make-up. Elanor picked up the bed-pan Now, where's the urinal, the closet?! Turning around, she froze on tracks, noticing for the first time the layout of the room.

It was a long rectangular space, well-lit and well-ventilated.The peacock-green paint worked well against the checkerboard floor, with wide mirrors on opposite walls, and a pair of three sinks in row, on either sides. The whole room looked spotless, not even a splash mark around the large water barrels. At the other end of the room were the urinals. Eight in total, with a single wooden-rack above, stretching across the wall, stacked with disposable towels.

Six of them matched the design of the sink. Shiny, white and pristine. Almost untouched. The two in the middle, forming the center-piece, was what left the Queen aghast. Upon a raised platform, to match the hip-level of the user, were two women squatting. With their rear buns pressed into heels, knees both jutting out, forming a perfect V upfront.. Their spine pressed against the wall behind, erect and upright, with both wrists clamped to the sides tight, angled perpendicular at the elbows. Like the Black-Rose, they had shiny black hoods, leaving just the nose and mouth open. Their heads hung low, with a thin chain dangling before each, hung from wooden-rack above, like from a pulley.

A pair of human-urinals..!

For the kind that find such kink irresistible.

One look at the disgraced women, and the taste came right back to her tongue in a burp. The one she had tried washing off all this time. How the hell is that supposed to add to the erection of these wastrels.?! The Queen wondered, as she walked up. She wanted to be out of there quickly, and to do nothing with the bound maiden. Elanor reached the first urinal, at the left corner, and almost dumped the whole bed-pan within.

Wait.!

The Queen took a second look, her grip trembling. At the bottom of the long white urinal closet, submerged in yellow pool, was a crown she knew too well. A near-perfect replica, of the Queen's Crown, the one she had enjoyed wearing as she stood by the side of her loving King, many months, in all their public appearances. Complete with the Insignia of the Queen consort, the winged horse.

True, this wasn't her insignia anymore. She had become the true-ruling monarch. This applies to the Queen consort of Wolkenshire. But as the Ruling Queen, it would be the gravest sin, for her to desecrate the royal insignia, by further dousing it in urine. In fact, the Queenly conduct required her maintaining reverence to all royal insignias, including that of the enemy kingdom. The Queen shan't condone the sacrilegious, let alone take part. Just to confirm her fears, Elanor walked along the stalls, past the two human-urinals.

All the urinals had a tainted tiara at the bottom, one belonging to each of the six kingdoms, symbolizing the respective Queen consorts. Although perplexed, she found it amusing, that the Order had managed to unify even the Noxtran nobility, the sworn-enemy of Wolkenshire, against the alleged corrupting feminine. Up close Elanor realized that, unlike the Black-Rose, these hoods had eye-holes. The thick lashes, and ruined mascara, combined with the fact that their lids remained closed, made it seem like they were blinded as well.

They could see, only they didn't wish to.

How unsurprising.. What a sick fetish.?! What a bunch of fools..!

That's it, I'm out.

The Queen stepped back, and put the pan over the nearest sink, ready to pour. Was someone behind me? A voice boomed right then.

"That's imported sanitary-ware, Queenie. Made from the finest Turkmenian marble. Unless you plan on shining it clean with that gifted tongue, I'd suggest you not spill a drop."

That sound again, the clergyman from before, the friend of Sir Lancet. How did he sneak up on me?! I never heard the door. Be vigilant, Nora.! As his hand crept around her waist, there was no way her mistaking that lecherous grin in the mirror, even though it's been months since their last meeting. The only person from the eventful Trial of Celibacy, whom she found absolutely repulsive.

Clergyman Didier Lupsink, Ministerial Manager of the Church grounds. Second in command to the High Priest. And the most vocal critic of her Queendom within the clergy. It appears the intel, on his connections with various radical factions, were spot on. Why didn't I recognize his voice earlier?!

Leading her towards the urinals, he smirked.

"Take a pick, Queenie. I've picked mine."

Elanor stood with the pan in her hand trembling, as Lupsink gently pulled the chain hanging before the kneeling blonde. The woman obediently leaned forward, against the bondage, tilting her neck up. Her lips parting eagerly. her eyes closed still. It took a moment to register, as the Queen realized. The chain ended at a simple black nose-hook, which made her comply at the slightest pull.

Wait, is he going to.. Really?! Right in front, oh no!

Pulling out his flaccid penis, he whistled as the stream began with out any hiccup.

"Why? You can't go with someone watching??"

He chuckled, as Elanor struggled with what she must do. Not knowing why, she said.

"I can't pour.. I'm sorry, I just can't.. Not to.."

The hell, Nora! Did you just apologize?!

You, the actual Queen! How dare you utter that word.?!

"Afraid to soil the royal insignia.? That's understandable. Respectful, I approve. But that's not an excuse. Not when presented with two perfectly willing meat toilets. Here, let me help.."

Stopping mid-flow with impressive sphincter control for his age, letting the poor maiden swallow the cheek-ful properly, he reached out and tugged the other chain. Making the dark-haired maiden drop her jaw, like clock-work. He said grinning.

"If you truly feel sorry, you are welcome to replace her dear. I mean, I'd rather have you writhing in a body-cage, for you'd make one hell of a Black-Rose. But a piss-pot is fine as well. What would you like..?"

Well, there's a lot of things I'd like, you cretin. Your head in a platter would do fine...

Elanor stared him down, not backing down an inch.

And it wouldn't take a blink, if I so much as whimmed. Lucky for you, that isn't the kind of Queen Wolkenshire needs now. Nor that kind I aim to be.

Though you are really pushin.. aahhhhHHH.!!

His digits, twisting her right nipple, made her rethink the restrain mid-scream.

"You don't seem to like me, at all Queenie.. Have we met before? Forgive it's those bright lips, bringing out the whore in you. After a while they all look the same.."

This is the ruling monarch, you baffoo... OOOOHH..!!

Lupsink chuckled, his belly wobbling, spurting the piss around the irritated blonde's nose and neckline.

"There, like that... Moan, like it suits a piss-breath. The staring doesn't work for you. Now what's the issue.? Is this whole thing too humiliating for your tastes? Is it the coercive tactics, or the thought of drinking piss? Like a mouthful of cum fares any better.. You still stench of the old man. So what's stopping now?"

Nothing did. All ways out this room inevitably soiled her dignity. And something about the eagerness with which the blonde one latched on to his crown.. May be it's the singularly carnal smile at the corner, as her lips did the perfect suction she had witnessed to date.. Informed Elanor, these aren't the ones worth martyring for. Her hand tipped slightly, and the collected mess dripped along the bed-pan's corner, in a deep yellow stream. Widening his grin, at the dark-haired urinal, he exclaimed.

"Oh, look at that! A fresh one."

Tapping his pecker against the lips, patting out the final drops, with his left hand reaching up for a towel, he said.

"Look how her eyes squint, the brows wrinkle. This one doesn't like it. In training now, aren't you pet? Highness, let me assist.."

Yes, she was.. Oh, my god! What did I just do.?!

Elanor felt disgusted at herself. The maiden's reluctance was apparent in how her right hand curled into a fist. Was that a tattoo around her wrist?