Suborning Treason

"A part of your sentence is perpetual chastity." continued King Eric. "Never again will you be able to divert a man with your body and it also prevents the thorny issues of any offspring you MIGHT have produced. The collar ..." King Eric raised a hand and pointed an object at Jean who suddenly felt the most intense pain in her life. The agony caused her to fall to her knees and scream, "Sire, mercy!"

As quickly as it had come the pain departed. "...Will be used to compel you to obey. So long as you do not speak unless spoken to and obediently suck cock and swallow seed, your collar will be left inert. Disobedience begins with several hours of pain. Woman, the setting I just used to demonstrate the power of the device was on the LOWEST setting.."

Jean's eyes flew open, wide with terror. King Eric was sentencing her to the worst possible fate he could have devised. Not even selling her naked to a barbarian of the far distant western steppes would have been a worse fate. She struggled to even find the words. Any utterance died before reaching her lips upon noting the dark emotion upon King Eric's face.

"I have not given you permission to speak woman. If you so much as sigh I will sentence you to an hour of more pain than you can comprehend."

Eric smiled as he saw Jean stifle her words. "Here is what happens now." stated the King with an almost bored tone. "First you will thank me for permitting you to live and then you will, before all of these witnesses, crawl to the foot of my throne and then you will suck my cock and swallow my seed." after a dramatic pause, he ended with, "This is the first day of the rest of your life."

Jean's eyes scanned the room. Despite the gasps when her sentence was announced, Jean saw not a single sympathetic face. Indeed, nearly every man wore a smirk and some of the women's faces were flushed with shy excitement. Jean's hands fell to the chastity device shrouding her sex. For the first time she realized that it did not possess a means of removal. There was no keyhole to unlock the mechanism. In an instant, all of her past sexual encounters passed through her mind. From her first, the father of one of her school classmates, to her last with Errol, the evening previous to Eric's return with his troops. Jean had always enjoyed sex tremendously. To think that all of that was at an end, filled her with grief. Adding bitter irony to her misery was the fact that when she and Errol had played erotic games, Jean's favorite fantasy was to be taken captive and then reduced to the level of naked pleasure slave.

Her hands next went to the padded collar circling her neck. Its outside edge was smooth metal without an indentation or rise. Jean was at a loss to discern how it had even been fastened in place. She understood that,like her chastity belt, the collar was designed to be non-removable. Jean gazed upon King Eric upon his throne. Never before in her life had she seen such a self satisfied and smug smile. When her eyes scanned the rest of him, the daunting bulge in his pantaloons was obvious. All her sexual life, Jean had provided fellatio because it was expected. She would be accommodating and take a load in her mouth but she would immediately spit it out. Cum tasted bitter and there were so many other fine things to dine upon. The though of swallowing cum for the rest of her life was as galling as the lost of intercourse. Dejectedly, Jane realized that no more exquisite torture could have been devised for her. Jean thought for a long moment of insulting the king and of trying to flee from the room. Perhaps, if she escaped from the castle and managed to make it to the countryside, she could entice some farmer to use implements to free her. All she really needed was a sympathetic ear and a male eye desirous of her flesh. The surrounding soldiers made flight impossible but, Jean believed that, so long as there were men she could beguile, the chance of freedom was ever present. Perhaps, if she was obedient and solicitous of King Eric he would become as taken with her as his brother had been and would return her to her former glory. Perhaps she COULD be a queen once more. It was better than feeling hopeless. When she contemplated the alternative, the world closed in upon her. Even prostitutes and field slaves owned more freedom. "If only Eric had truly died." she thought before swallowing her pride, forcing a contrite expression on her face and saying softly,

"Your Excellency, thank you for preserving my life. May I see to your pleasure?"

"Of course, wench." replied the king.

Jean sighed and then fell to her knees and began crawling towards the Emerald Throne. Even though the king was not seated far away, the distance seemed miles to Jean before the King's boots came into view. King Eric parted his legs and Jean rose up on her haunches. He pointed to the tenting of his pantaloons and Jean set to work on the buttons. King Eric's massive cock came into view. The king was even better endowed than his brother. Jean looked first at the erect manhood and then up at its owner. She found no respite there. The sly grin on his face held no hint of affection only a perverse delight in seeing her reduced to this. "His anger is intense and his hatred of me profound." Jean realized as her tongue tentatively set to work exploring his uncircumcised rod. Jean tried to place as little of her tongue and lips on the kings manhood as possible. A look of impatience crossed his countenance and her raised the remote control device for her collar and pointed it towards her. It was all of the motivation Jean needed. Her full attention turned to fellating the king. Jean had a very low threshold for pain, a simple toe stubbing or slightly twisted ankle were apt to inspire hours of painful moaning and cries. The pain that collar had caused her was a revelation. If that truly was the lowest setting, Jean wanted no knowledge of the greater intensities.

Out of fear of pain, and because it offered the only sort of withdrawal from the horrific present, Jean focused her entire being into servicing the king. The throne room audience watched in stunned silence as the naked woman's beautiful brown tresses bounced up and down in a steady rhythm as the king grunted with pleasure. The fact that the lovely naked woman had, only a few days before, been their queen, accounted for some of the silence. Most of the awed silence in the room was amazement at King Eric's wisdom and ability to impose justice where few other men could.

A lesser king, like Errol, would have simply exiled or executed Jean, neither of which would have provided the humiliation and penance she deserved. Nervous fear coursed through a few present as they considered the fact that they had, when Jean was queen, abetted her in striking back at political enemies. The realization that their hands were not clean made them acutely aware that King Eric would be well within his rights, should he choose, to discipline them as well. The guilty women had visions of themselves in Jean's stead while the men imagined all sorts of horrors. Still, all understood that Eric was fair, which is one of the reasons he was so beloved. His current demonstration of authority would inspire compliance and loyalty that might otherwise have taken months to achieve.

Jean's pretty head continued to bob up and down. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine that her surroundings were actually silken sheets, feather down mattresses, and romantic lighting. Suddenly she felt Eric's hand on the back of her head, heard him grunt in exultation and felt his warm viscous seed fill her mouth. Suddenly in the present, Jean opened her eyes to encounter Eric, staring at her with an odd expression of satisfaction and malice. In fear, Jean choked down the royal seed and parted her lips to prove that she had performed her duty.

"So you CAN follow instructions, wench! Close my pantaloons and crawl back to your previous position. Once you are there you will service my commanding generals. Eventually, you will service every officer in my army down to the rank of captain. I've already had a schedule created. I also expect you to service me at least three times a day as well. I assure, wench, for the next decade at least, you will be kept quite busy."

Jean's fresh cries became piteous indeed as she re-buttoned King Eric's pantaloons.