Queendom 11: Original Offense

The back-half of her long slit-skirt had been neatly folded, now resting on her back. Her breeches had been hastily crunched down, leaving those beautiful legs bare. A woman wearing pants, what a joke.. Her bulging bum-cheeks blushed deeply, from all the slaps he had been giving, till that guardsman knocked on the door. His rough palm caressed the reddish roundness.

What a tender piece of meat!

He raised his hand quick again, the motion of which made her flinch in anticipation. Only, Radislov was just toying. His fingers reached instead, to the knob jutting out from between the cheeks, and gave it a slow, measured twist. The woman squirmed, feeling the jolt run up her bowels.

Grinning at the response, the General said out loud.

"I'm not preying upon you, Queen Elanor. Civility is paramount, and I want your permission. I don't need it, for the rules of the game dictates that I'm free to take what's mine. But, I'm no beast. So, what you say?"

After an awkward dramatic pause, the reply came.

"The Great General of North. I'm giving up to the man that bested mine, the thing of most worth in me. Barthomius failed me, yet you ask for my consent, like a gentleman. Sure, you did so, after slapping out of me any trace of arrogance. But I value the gesture.. Yes, General. Take from me, what should belong to my rightful husband. Plunder all my worth, as my beloved judges me, helplessly. Aaahhh..!!"

Radislov had no time for the dramatics, as he plunged his manhood deep into the wet welcoming folds before. It smooched his veiny length with a rare hunger, and continued to froth up as he picked up pace, grinding back with the same rhythm, as his clutches dug deep into her love-handles, and pulled it with such irreverence that she nearly shrieked.

"Quiet, Highness.. We don't your guardsmen finding now, do we? I was this close to giving that last idiot an unforgettable glimpse. Oh, you're so slimy wet now."

"Ahh, yes.. Yes, Lord of Clauscher. Dig into me. DIG IN..!! Arrghh.."

Reaching forward, Radislov grabbed one of her two long braids that had come undone, and yanked, making her face forward, and peer into the late king. As his hips moved like a piston, the General too kept gazing into his friend, with utter pity. He yelled.

"Thank your King, my Queen. Thank him properly, for his failures, which led you to the fortune of pleasing a superior manhood."

Her voice lacked the conviction, as her body and mind was so lost to the pleasure, shuddering with each forceful thrust.

"Barthomius, my King, my love. Thank you for. Aahhh.. Mnnnnnggh.....for being the failure I had always known you were. Thank you, for going against a man so valorous and cunning, that you had no chance at winning. My only regret is you not being here, to witness the fruits of such pathetic gamesmanship. I hope, aaarrgh.. Gently, General.. I hope Lord Radislov is kind enough to breed me good, for your throne needs an heir after all.. Ahh, ahhh.."

"Hands, my Queen! Let me ride you proper."

Her both hands unclasped from the self-bondage, and reached back, as his unusually long, sinewy forelimbs caught them by the wrists. Her back arched as his pounding intensified, the sweat-drenched wardrobe flailing as her free-hanging breasts swung unevenly. The sweaty impression of those squished melons from before, slowly evaporating from the table-top below.

"Tell him how good it feels.. TELL HIM..!!"

"Oh, yes. Yes. Bard, he feels so lively in me."

"Tell him more.."

"Bard, he's more than you. Much more. I hope he'll fill me.. Ahh..!!"

"Keep talking, Highness.!"

"I.. I thought he'd fill me up good, but he's stretching me loose now, Bard. I don't.. Aaahh.. I don't think you could have matched him, in length. And.."

"AND??"

"Ahh.. And girth was never your strong-suit, my King.. You'd have been proud of me popping his litter, Bard. And even if you don't approve, what choice do you have.?"

"That true, my Queen?"

"Yes, Lord Radislov.!"

"Absolutely.?!"

"In the name of God, I swear.! Aaah.. aangh.."

"You hear that, Bard.?!"

His sweaty face cackled as the General focused on the portrait. The depiction was so life-like, the attention to detail truly impressive, and the artist had masterfully captured a certain ambiguity in the eyes of the late King. His expression was something of an enigma. Like it changed with the context. Like if you smiled his way, you may find him smiling back, but if you are feeling moody, his eyes may match your melancholy. And all Radislov saw in him was humiliation.

It was one thing for the young Prince to tag along for the combat, but Rad had never hoped for him to return as the new King. Of course, he knew Kingship was fated for a heir-apparent. But he had hoped for the cocky prince he remembered from the hunting trips to mature a lot more, before ascending to the throne. What were they thinking, the Royal Council? Humbling the boy had been his aim for a while. And to Radislov, being King made you no less a boy, nor being dead stop the humbling.

Watch what you failed to protect, King. No, watch what you arrogantly gambled away.

"Ahh.. Ahh.."

"Ready for my seed, Highness??"

"Ahh.. Ahh.. yeshmmalaarrr.."

Her eyes rolled back, as the drooling lips mumbled something, a response which only made him thrust harder. The vaginal walls were pulsing, he was so hard, that she felt it edge right to the brink.

"I asked, are you.. ready.. my Queen?"

"Yess.. Yes my Liege..!!"

"DAMMITT..!!"

She felt his erection soften almost immediately, as the General let go off her hands, and walked back. She stayed in the bliss for a moment more, as his member slipped out frustrated, and the Queen collapsed on the the table, panting heavily.

CRAAACK..!!

"OUCHH..!!"

"Keep it down slut, or I'll make the guards ruin you for good.!"

"Apologies, my Lord. I slipped up.."

The girl curled up, realising her mistake.

"Liege, Gertha?! Liege?? What are you, my vassal bitch.??"

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.. I wasn't.. I couldn't think straight, on the edge."

The General grabbed a towel, and collapsed on to chair bare-bottomed, wiping his sweaty face. He kept watching poor Gertha, the royal-double before, collect her breath with much effort. This wasn't his first time making her role-play this way, and she had never questioned his demands to stay absolutely in character, despite the levels of royal blasphemy they were both indulging in. She was a creature of little inhibitions, which is what he loved about her. But lack of inhibitions isn't exactly a sign of intelligence. How stupid does she have to be, to call me her 'Liege' when playing the Queen.?! God, those cheeks will be so red, when I'm, done. Stupid cow!

"What are you doing?"

The General asked confused, as Gertha began dressing up.

"This was a mistake.." She shook her head.

"Didn't seem like a mistake when I first spotted you. Stag night of Prince Axon. Two of them ploughing your pussy, as the best man took your ass.! You were screaming as if you were birthing their dicks. Was it a mistake then? Or is it motherhood, that's weighing on you?"

Scoffing an exhale, Gertha said.

"Not that, my Lord. I love this job. This is who I am, and hey.. Those screams weren't performative. This is who I want to be. I know bitches who hate what they put up with, earning just a fraction. I'm grateful for this likeness, and I'm making the most of it."

"As I thought.. Then what's got you so bothered so sudden? You got an issue with my scenario.?"

Gertha sashayed along to the General, and lowered herself to his lap, her fingers toying his his greying chest curls, and said.

"My dear General.. You'd be surprised by the kinks I indulge in, for the one's that want an outlet to vent off their frustrations with Her Highness. Yours is understandable. You are only taking what's owed. You won it, fair and square. I mean, you would have, had King Bard continued to play.. That's.. That's just as good as winning."

You don't mean that.. But I appreciate the skillful tongue, dear. The General nodded.

"Then what got you so bothered?"

"This is different, my Lord. I'm on Imperial duty. I can't be doing this now. Do you realise how reckless it was of you, to pounce on me like that, soon as the guards cleared? What were you thinking? What if I had been the Queen?"

"But you weren't."

"That's not my question. You got lucky this time, it was reckless of you still."

"Dear, I got the Imperial Medal of Valor, for being reckless and daring. My whole life is about calculated risks, so.. Relax, I knew it was you."

"No, you didn't!" She slapped his shoulders as if offended. Which she was. A perfect mimicking of the Ruling Monarch was her job-description. And she had done considerable hours of work, not just reshaping her body, but studying the Queen's behavioral cues, that she was extremely proud of 'performing' the Queen. Gertha was objective about it, so she knew that the General couldn't have deduced it was a decoy.

Unless, I made a mistake. Did I?

"What gave it away?" She sounded worried.

Radislov snickered.

"It's not you, dear. You were great. I'm sure my good friend Earl believes still, that you are indeed the Great Chaste. He's in for a treat, to find you warming his bed tonight. Don't worry. I'll be there as well. I'm sure it's been a while since someone stretched this cunt properly."

Ouch!

Gertha jumped, as his fingers pinched her clit.

"No way.! What if someone..?"

"Relax, I've taken care of it. They'll guard what you tell them to. Besides, I owe the Earl big time. You'll make a fortune as well. So be a good Queenie, alright?!"

"Yes, my King." She said mockingly.

"You know, I've been thinking the same myself."

"What?" Gertha was confused. The General answered.

"I heard the Queen did a public rally last week. Celebrating the success of her peace-treaty or what not. The public displays are crucial, especially for the royals. You think the Queen's a god-fearing woman?"

"I've no reason to doubt. So?"

"Feeling you take a pounding so well, I was just thinking what it's like.. To have her stroke my cock. To have the True-ruling Monarch nibbling on my nipples, as you, her dutiful double, lick clean my hairy behind. Perhaps you'll get to teach her a trick or two."

"What?!" What's he on about?

"Her public appearance, Gertha. I heard she looked very animated, spotting a toothy grin and waving to the cheering crowd.. As if signalling to the rest, that she's ready to embrace life. Her first time since losing Bard. So I was thinking, if the Queen is looking to nest.."

So he is aiming for the throne. Huh? He never seemed the type. Gertha asked.

"But His Lordship.?! What about the rules of courtship, not to mention bloodline?"

"The True-ruling Monarch is the deciding party, poor girl. A ruling King, is beyond such ties. He can marry and yet have a concubine. If the wife turns out bare, he can produce the heir from any woman he chooses, the rules of courtship is subordinate to the will of the ruling. And your Queen, the Chaste of them all, is the ultimate rarity. How she acts, may very well define the rules from now on, for she is the only Ruling Monarch who'll get to have a King Consort, if she chooses to re-marry. The True-ruling Monarch may choose anyone, by the loosest interpretation any class, any creed she deems worthy, to produce the rightful heir to the throne. And there, my dear decoy whore, I may have a chance."

"Oh my God! You are seriously considering this.."

"Believe me, I'm not the only one making plans. Within a week, I bet the Head of Households will be receiving a lot of enquiries. Invitations, rare gifts, requests for a private audience. Subtle hints of interest, from every ambitious soul, in home and abroad. As for me, I'm maternally related to the Wolkenshire royalty, so I can arguably restore the bloodline, if that's a concern for any. If I'm reading it right, the Queen's about to be done with mourning, and so long as she finds me viable, I have a shot."

"But, I thought you.. I thought you were a man of war-front. I had no clue that you were this ambitious."

"Oh, you know me so well, even if it's only our fourth solo session. Yes, I personally find the petty courtroom politicking abhorrent, but.."

"You mean, this isn't about the throne?!" Her confused brows looked hilarious.

"Hehe.. I won that game, fair and square. For men of war and blood, the Game of Charrots is sacred. You wouldn't understand, silly.. But I claimed her fair and square. And I'm not skipping on a chance, to make it official."

"But what about me?"

"Ho ho.. You sly little thing. Haven't you heard rumors of that young Lady Horse Whisperer. For I'm pretty sure the households isn't the only thing her head keeps munching. I can't wait to add you to the mix, dear.. And watch Her Highness dyke it out in the royal chambers, her moans so loud that the guardsmen can't help but rub themselves out. She was a twiggy lithe thing when I met, and if she's at least half-endowed as you, oh mine..! One of the single greatest pleasures in life is bedding a perfect twins at the same time. Her sister Vera is a good sport, but unfortunately the two look so different. You on the other hand dear.. At times I wonder if you are one of Ribert's bastards. Either way I can assure you'll feel a lot more Queenly once I'm there. And if god-forbid the Queen turns bare, then we might need your help to bear to royal heir itself."

"Oh my.. King. That would be my pleasure."

They shared a long kiss, like lovers of sixteen. But Gertha was just playing a role, for she knew how impulsive these noblemen can be. She never got the impression that Her Highness was ready to move on, nor had she a doubt, that the General had no shot. Her mind was still confused, as to how he figured she was just a double.

"Seriously though.. What gave it away?" Gertha asked, again.

"It's not on you dear, its.. Huh, it's the damned me, alright. Once you have attuned your judgement, by staking blood and death for decades, it gives you a certain edge. Had I been incapable of recognizing the real deal, I wouldn't have lasted this long in the war-fronts. You do an exceptional job mimicking, but you still lack a certain air. An air that's representative of a certain upbringing, the blissful blindness and sense of superiority it imbues. You lack that air, and it's not on you, dear. But failing to notice it, would be the end of mine."

"Air?"

She looked at him like it was gibberish. The general continued.

"Oh, and my suspicions were confirmed, when you suggested it was our first time meeting. Such a slip up."

"That's no slip-up. You have never met Queen Elanor."

"According to the Imperial records, yes. But you'll be surprised dear, how much of the Vankenbraum honor I've dined and dipped on. The Princess of Vankenbraum would remember me, that's all I'd say."

Yeah, I don't believe you, old man. Looking skeptical, Gertha rose up from his lap and returned to the table. As the General sat admiring her beauty, she undressed completely, and leaned over the table, putting weight onto her left palm, angling her torso as to give him the diagonal view of her under-boobs, her right hand slowly caressing the rear cheeks, before reaching into the creek. Feeling his pelvis heat up again, the General said smiling.

"Don't be hard on yourself, dear. You just lack the air?

"Air, huh?"

POP!

Her fingers twitched, as a moaning exhale followed. With a deeply seductive stare she said.

"Let me know, General.. If the air in here, feels Queenly enough to your tastes.."

Something dropped from her fingers, hit the floor hard, and bounced once. Radislov's eyes widened, impressed by the size of the anal plug. The sight of lubricants leaking down the gaping hole, onto the pelvic cleft was more than enough to peak his erection. Chuckling at the response, she turned to face the portrait.

"Barthomius, my beloved! I'm offering up my anal virginity to the man who bested you. Would you watch, as he creams my rear?"

"What else can he do, Her Highness?! But watch me claim his wife.. Haha.."

As his manhood slipped with no effort into the well weathered hole, Radislov wondered why he was never so enamored with the natural conjugation. The roundness of a loose rear had always churned his loins, than the tightness of a pulsing cunt. As the loud slaps of their colliding meat risked discovery by the moment, the celebrated General could only wonder.

How tight would she be, the real Great Chaste.?!

Elanor of Wolkenshire, and her untouched anal bud.

What is she up to now, anyhow?

***

**

*

Away from the Capitol..

A thousand grips, it felt like.

Five thousand calloused fingers, sliding through every inch of her entire skin. Nails scraping along, just enough to make the hair raise, holding her flesh gently, but firmly in place. Hands stretched out on both ends, as if crucified. The same for legs, only they were bend at the knees, leaving her labial lips as exposed as it could be. Not really, for if the prying fingers wished, the nether could be further stretched apart, letting the cold air rush past her inner walls. A single hand gripped her nape, holding her head firmly in place, so she couldn't look away from what's been dangling before all this while.

She used to close her eyes, disgusted by it, but when you have dreamed on it enough, even the disgust melts away. It's not like there's any hiding from one's subconscious. It smelled damp. And slithery. Like something out from a swamp. The skin tortured, rugged like an alligator, and the crown at the end dissolved all ambiguity. It was bigger than anything that would fit down her throat, but the explorations so far had made her an expert in the field. It was a cock. A well-hung manhood, as hard as the best one she had pleasured in recent times. Only, it wasn't even erect yet.

How am I supposed to stuff it.. Wait, why are you thinking about stuffing it anywhere?

How long have you been trapped in this?

Look away, Nora.!

NORA..!

"Nora..!"

"I wasn't looking.!"

Elanor nearly jumped out of the tub, splashing water all around, as Bella grabbed her shoulders.

"I don't care Highness, of you looking at whatever it was in your dream.. Unless you want to talk about it. But don't sleep in the tub. It reduces the effect. And stop splashing the medicine."

Elanor curled up into a ball, and looked around, as Bella swiftly moped up the floor. The night sky was cloudless, and though midway through waxing, the moon shone like a large pearl. The cold made her want to dip back in, for the water was moderately warm, but the prescription had specified her naked torso facing the moon. She wouldn't be so annoyed if it weren't for the chilly night perking up her nipples. Well, at least it's a treat compared to the morning session.

"Can't we opt for the longer schedule, Bella? It's soulcrushing, to stay perched up in the Castle all week."

Bella looked at her, like she's been acting like a child.

"Highness, we've been through this. I refered with three separate physicians, one of whom specializes cosmetics. The best way to remove the black stains on your back, to rejuvenate your skin properly, is one week of extensive treatment. A mere six hours each day. Bathing in medicinal water, three hours to the scorching sun, and three more to the healing moon. With your conscious engagement, feeling every moment of it. Please tell me you didn't doze off in the day as well."