The Princess and the Pod

"I have a noble reason for asking. I wish to help."

"You are leading the attacks on my kingdom. Just because you have taken my body does not mean you can control my will."

Rokal looked to Honnie for support, and he got it. The petite Lainian looked around, ensuring that no one was in earshot outside their circle. "Zeeta, we have been through hell together, and I love you like a sister. Rokal destroyed our lives and he attacks our kingdoms, but he has done so only under the unscrupulous orders of Sela and her father. He has had a change of heart and duty. He feels toward Sela like we do, and I know for a fact that he is a man of honor. He respects us."

"Here's all I need to know," Rokal said. "If you were to arrive back in the Ice Kingdom as a free woman, would Marston yield the throne to you, or would he fight you for it?"

The camp was silent but for the crackling of the fires and the sound of the crickets. No one spoke as Zeeta absorbed the bombshell.

"Marston is five years old. The throne is mine if I return," she said at long last. "General Rokal," she added, her pale pink lips curling into a smile. "Do you have a plan?"

****

It was the screams that woke Rokal. His adrenaline surged as he instantly considered an attack underway. But then he recognized the voice. It had screamed at him many times in the past.

He exhaled deeply and rolled out of his bunk. The game was about to begin.

He dressed in his finest field armor and put on his cavalry boots, readying himself for a battle of sorts. He idly listened to the yelling without putting words to the tone. Sela was beyond angry, and his trained reaction was fear. It was not an unreasonable reaction even in normal times, and on this day he had to force himself into a state of poise, to carry the bearing of a great general.

Girding his courage, he stepped from the tent and put his general's face on. He walked briskly toward the remains of the Secondskin orb, and even from a distance he could see Sela fighting and flailing.

The men working the chisels were no longer the brawniest men of the battalion. They were good soldiers, no doubt about that, but they were small and lithe. A trained eye would see the new paint on their leather that covered up their scout and archer insignia, units where size and power offered no real advantage. They were also new to the job and not yet adept in their technique, so progress had slowed considerably.

"Soldiers, take a ten-minute break," he ordered. They left, and he heard one murmur to another, "Maybe we should sharpen these chisels a bit. They're so dull I can hardly use them." Rokal stifled a smile at Giana's cleverness.

He stepped to the far end of the Secondskin. Protruding from the end of the orb, Sela's head and most of her face were exposed. Her hair was matted and full of gelatinous chunks. Her emerald-green eyes had been moving wildly for two days as they slowly freed her forehead, her cheeks, her nose. Now her ears and a tiny corner of her lips were freed, enough that Rokal could see a glint of white incisors and an occasional dart of tongue.

"NNNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGHHHHHH!" Her scream was guttural, her eyes desperate.

He leaned in and sympathetically pulled a small chunk of green material from her temple. "Princess Sela, can you hear me?"

"NNNNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGHHH!" Her head could not yet move, but he saw a flash of leg kick on the other side of the block.

"Blink if you can hear me."

The green eyes blinked.

Rokal stood and inspected the situation. She was free to the chest on the bottom side, all the way to the bottom of her collarbones. Any more progress on that end and she might have freed her arms. But as it was, she was still trapped, her arms and neck in the organic stone as if she were in a pillory.

"We were making slow progress," he said to the princess, "and at some point the entire shell hardened all the way to the top end. So I decided to shift our focus to the other side and start freeing your head. That way we can start giving you solid food, and you can talk."

"NNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGHHHHH!" A worry line appeared between the princess's fine eyebrows, and then a whimper emerged from her mouth. It was a plea for help, plain and simple. Her left hand was still jutting from the stone, visible to the wrist, and she pointed frantically toward her hips.

Rokal judiciously didn't notice it. He walked to the other side of the remaining orb, where Sonnsoe sat at the princess's feet. "If the princess would like any particular foods, she may let you know," he said. "We're very close to freeing her mouth."

"Yes, General Rokal. The princess has communications for you as well."

Rokal was hoping to get away without hearing such things. But now Sela was able to hear the conversations, so he had to tread formally and carefully. He feigned surprise. "Oh. And what communications does she offer?"

"She wishes for someone to finger her vulva or lick her vulva. She has repeated this request many times."

"Oh, certainly. Her two fellow royals are resting. Does she wish to make the request of them, or does she wish to yield her crown to be served by a commoner?"

"She has requested Honnie or Zeeta numerous times."

"I shall forward the request then."

"She also wishes to tell you that you will be shown no mercy in the aftermath of this affair."

Rokal turned to look at Sela's widespread and bound legs. Her pussy was glistening with moisture, her inner and outer lips a raging red against the white of her thighs. Perhaps it was time to give her what she wanted.

****

As the guard pulled the last chunk of Secondskin from her lips, Sela took a huge, desperate gasp of air. Her voice was a wavering rasp. "Ohhhhh, get this thing off of me! By the light of the gods, get me out of here!"

She could feel her inner chamber clamping in need. Her clitoris felt as if it were two inches long. An orgasm, just a single orgasm, was the most important thing in the world to her. It would quench her fires for just a moment while the men worked. Decorum no longer had a place in her life as she humped the air, her stomach muscles exhausted and painful. "Get me Honnie! Get me Zeeta! Make them lick me! Now!"

She could only look at the sky, but felt a shadow fall over her. Her jaw clenched in anger, and she issued her first verbal command in weeks. "Rokal, you buffoon! Get Honnie and Zeeta over here now! I will have your head!"

"I've brought them," the general said. Two more shadows appeared and her servant girls stood at her head.

"Honnie! Tongue between my legs. As fast as you can. Zeeta, lick my ass. Right now."

Neither woman moved. Rokal cleared his throat. "I'm confirming royal protocol now. Two royals may consort in a sexual union with no implications on royal title. But while our guests are hostages of the kingdom, they are still nonetheless royalty, so any sexual union must have the consent of all parties."

Sela pitched a fit, to the extent that such a thing was possible when one's arms and neck were trapped and one's ankles were tied apart. "NOW! Between my legs!"

"I will leave you with your servants," Rokal said. "I have also provided a scribe to document your words and actions in this time of crisis."

Sela saw a fourth shape move over her, long and lean, as Rokal departed. Her eyes moved to Honnie and Zeeta.

"Do me," she hissed. "Make me cum, you lowly twats!"

"You want to cum?" Zeeta said teasingly.

Sela fought in vain against the rocklike creature that held her in bondage. "Lick me! Now! I command it!"

"How does Sela like to be pleasured, Princess Honnie? I don't recall." Zeeta had a strange, sadistic smile.

"I think she enjoys having fingers running through her hair," Honnie said. The small woman softly and sensuously laid her fingertips on Sela's forehead, then ran them slowly through Sela's long red hair. The pleasure pushed Sela close to her tipping point.

"More," she gasped.

"I remember that she enjoys having her ears kissed," Zeeta said. The blonde leaned down. Sela felt warm lips and a soft, wet tongue bathe her earlobes, a particular erogenous zone for her.

But sensitivity aside, those things wouldn't make her cum. They only heighted her need. "I love it," she moaned, "but I need you to lick my pussy. Lick my pussy!"

Honnie's fingers continued to slide along Sela's scalp. "She wants us to play with her pussy, Zeeta. Do we consent to that?"

"Let's decide by looking at it. We should assess her need."

Oh, god. Sela whimpered in anticipation as the two women circled around the large bloc. She heard their conversation.

"Her pussy looks like it's on fire," Honnie said teasingly. "Look how red and wet it is."

"She really needs to cum, I bet."

"And those nipples. I've never seen them that long."

Fingers touched Sela's left nipple, then gave it a slight pinch. She groaned and bucked as her anticipation grew. "Keep doing that," she ordered, her voice guttural with need.

The fingers released her, then moved to her right nipple. It toyed with her for just a few seconds, not long enough to push her over the precipice to orgasm, but long enough to make her whine shrilly.

"Spread her lips." Two fingers gripped Sela's desperate vulva, and spread her lips apart. She felt a warm breath. Her voice went from demanding to begging. "Touch me, pleeeeeease. I'm begging you."

Hands were on her thighs, stroking them. A finger brushed her clit, and another traced a tiny ring around her anus. Sela bucked and pleaded, seconds away from an orgasm.

Then the fingers stopped.

"NO! Keep going!" She was completely exhausted, but her body was a tightly wound spring, ready to orgasm after weeks of nonstop teasing.

"You know," Honnie said, "We're all royals here. We're all equal even if some of us are hostages. And it occurs to me that we've licked Sela a thousand times and she's never licked us once."

Fingers traced the edges of Sela's outer labia, then her inner labia, as she wailed.

"I've always wondered what it would be like to feel her tongue," Zeeta responded. "She seems to enjoy sexual unions with women, but only when she's receiving. I bet she'd like to taste another royal."

Two hands closed on Sela's breasts, resting warmly on them, gently brushing her nipples.

"Finish me or I'll have you killed," Sela hissed, her teeth gritted and jaw set.

The two captured princesses came back around to stand over her face.

"We may consent to service you, Princess Sela, but we need something in exchange," Honnie said. "We would like to straddle your face and have you service us as you've made us service you."

"If you lick us well," Zeeta added, "we'll consider returning the favor."

"I ... don't ....lick...pussy."

"Are you sure?" Honnie's soft fingers traced Sela's ear, pinching the earlobe slightly in a way that made Sela's toes curl.

"Lick me," she said futilely. "Lick me and I'll show you mercy."

Zeeta and Honnie exchanged smiles and kissed each other directly over Sela's face. "You go first, sweetie," Zeeta said. I'll go to the other side and tease her pussy to keep her motivated.

Honnie stripped off her royal servant's gown. Climbing atop a small rock that the workmen had been using as a stepstool, she climbed up and straddled Sela's face.

Oh, no.

"Lick me good, Princess, and maybe I'll do the same." Honnie settled her slim hips down onto Sela's face. Simultaneously, she felt Zeeta teasing her down below, the blonde's hands tracing up and down her hips, stroking her pubic hair.

"You don't cum until we do," Honnie warned.

Sela had no choice. She would exact her revenge in force later, but for the moment she had to get an orgasm. Flicking her tongue out, she began licking the small brunette's clit.

It took 15 minutes of licking for Honnie to cum, fifteen minutes of sheer hell as Zeeta kept her on the verge of orgasm. Sela realized that the two servant princesses knew exactly how to pleasure her, the product of two years of licking her and fingering her and servicing her in every manner possible. They knew how to make her cum quickly, and they knew how to tease her to the brink and then draw back. Zeeta was torturing her with the latter.

And then they switched. Zeeta's platinum blonde pussy with its thick tight lips clamped over Sela's mouth, while Honnie teased and edged her. By the time Zeeta orgasmed 20 minutes later, Sela was in tears, humping her hips and flailing against Honnie's expert edging.

"Now! Please, now!" she cried, her dignity long gone.

Honnie and Zeeta convened over her face again.

"I think not," Honnie said. "We're satisfied, and we're no longer in the mood."

"You know what I'm going through! I'm begging you!"

"No. But there's an option. We know someone who can help you."

"Anything. Anything at all."

Zeeta leaned close, so close that Sela could feel her breath, see the pink of her sexually talented tongue. "General Rokal serviced us both when we were trapped. He serviced Honnie and took her title, and then he used that title to service me as a royal. It was fantastic."

"Send him over. Anything."

"But recognize that you lose your title. It would transfer to Rokal."

"Give him yours. Whatever needs to happen."

"He took mine," Honnie said. "He decided to give it back to me later. Perhaps he will do the same for you."

Sela's brain was fogged. She knew little about ruling a kingdom and cared even less, but she knew the sexual consort traditions. That was the entire reason that she had sought to acquire Honnie and Zeeta.

"He'll give it back?"

"He has no obligation to do so. But he gave mine back."

Sela tried to think through the implications. Rokal was obedient. He was loyal. He had done everything that Sela and the King had wanted. He would give it back.

"Send him over."

****

"Hate fuck" is a strong term. "Grudge fuck" is also a strong term. But Rokal bore a strong hatred and grudge toward Princess Sela, and now it was his one chance to fuck her. Her whims had cost the lives of thousands of soldiers, had caused chaos in the kingdom's diplomacy. And all because she wanted her pussy serviced.

Well, she was getting her pussy serviced now.

He drove in with great force. It pleased him to bury himself in a tight, needy pussy, and the princess was objectively beautiful. He hated himself for bringing her to orgasm and giving her the relief she needed so badly. But orgasm she did, within one minute of penetration just as Honnie and Zeeta had predicted. He continued as she squealed in nonstop climax until he shot his pleasure deep inside her.

"Keep going," pleaded the voice trapped on the other side of the rock. "I need more."

Rokal toyed with the red-furred pussy for a moment. "You're a commoner now. I'm the crown prince. If you have continued need, you can beg the common soldiers and concubines to service you."

He walked away in satisfaction as Sela's slim hips began bucking again. Soldiers gladly closed in as she begged for sexual relief.

****

Rokal dressed in his finest uniform, the one that had been packed away for Sela's coronation parade at the capital. It was the finest of leather, complemented by gold epaulets and trim. It also held all of his medals for courage and campaigns, a veritable wall of accolades that covered his breastplate. After significant debate, he stealthily removed the campaign medals for the Lainian War and the Ice Kingdom War.

Honnie came up behind him, she herself dressed in a royal gown. She had not owned one, of course, but with the help of some camp seamstresses one of Sela's had been altered to fit her. She gave Rokal's uniform a critical eye, then fussed over some of the medals to be sure that they hung correctly. "General Rokal," she said, "you are apparently a great hero in your kingdom."

Rokal took a deep breath and viewed himself in the floor-length mirror that leaned nearby. "Well,," he said softly, "I am either the greatest hero in this kingdom's history or the greatest villain. Perhaps both. But we shall find out soon."

"You did what you must. History will treat you kindly."

"I feel that we were right. But there are a lot of traditionalists in the world. And traditionalists are going to resist."

"I spent two years with Sela, serving her for twenty-four hours a day. I think most traditionalists are realists, and the realists were terrified of Sela."

Rokal hitched his ceremonial sword to his belt and the couple left the tent.

The camp was abuzz. Tents were being taken down, food was being stored, and belongings were being packed onto the long-dormant wagons. There was excitement in the air, but also a standing wave of tension. Rokal knew his soldiers well, and he could feel it in his bones.

He and Honnie walked to the edge of camp. A large supply wagon, specially reinforced, had been outfitted with a large tarp to cover its contents from prying eyes. Rokal climbed up into the bed, then turned to help Honnie board the high platform.

Zeeta was inside, packing and organizing supplies and directing a pair of camp followers under her authority. She had been offered a royal gown, but had opted instead for the comfortable cotton of a traveling dress. Her graceful legs were long beneath the hem, ending in a pair of knee-high boots. She would need those for the eventual snow.

Zeeta and the followers were not the only people in the wagon. Sela writhed and whimpered, her sexual need still torturous. The Secondskin had been carved down to a weight that could be lifted, and it now formed a thick stonelike pillory that kept Sela trapped in the position of that night so long ago. She looked up at the top of the tarp, and her body now rested on a couch that had been positioned to keep her comfortable. But with her arms and neck still trapped, she was still receiving sexual stimulation, and still unable to satisfy herself. Silk ropes at her ankles allowed her freedom of movement, but did not allow her to pull her thighs together. Rokal stared at the red-thatched pussy as it clenched and unclenched. It would have been nice to have another go at her.

Sela's eyes flashed with rage. "General Rokal, you are a traitor to the realm! I declare you to be ejected from the army and placed on trial as soon as we reach the capital. You shall die as my first command."

Even from her position of vulnerability, the threats made Rokal uneasy. "You will not be going to the capital, servant girl. And you no longer have any authority to make threats."

He turned to Zeeta. "What is the plan for the former princess?"

Ice Women were powerful in body and spirit. You did not want to cross an Ice Woman. Zeeta looked at the redhead and offered a cold smile. "That spoiled brat held me hostage for two years, two months, and three days. She has found herself in a different kind of predicament, and it's karma at work. I have decreed that she will remain in the Secondskin for the same amount of time that she held me in bondage."

Honnie cringed. "Will she survive?"

"I will make sure of it. She'll get great food and wine, and we'll exercise her limbs, and my servants will give her tiny light strokes between her legs every afternoon." Zeeta pursed her lips into a frown. "I only regret that she is no longer royalty, or I would use her face as my very personal throne."

"What will be her fate when she completes that punishment?"

Zeeta's smile was shiny steel. She looked Rokal directly in the eyes. "She will become a part of my personal retinue, and she will be used for a variety of entertainment purposes." After a moment's pause she continued. "You need not worry, General Rokal. She will never enter your kingdom again."

"Excellent." Rokal's answer was half statement, half sigh of relief. "I've provided a platoon of soldiers to escort you back home, and you've been provided with a letter of passage from me and a certified script of Sonnsoe's recorded statements. If you have any issues, contact me."