Whispered Rites of Sacrifice Ch. 04

Part Four: The Fallen Queen

"THE MIGHTY QUEEN ISANA WHITESPEAR!"

A boot planted firmly in her lower back as a hand released her hair and Isana tumbled forward landing on her knees, face planting in the hard packed dirt. The woman could not recall anything that had happened since she was strapped to a horse after being taken in turn by Sibiline soldiers. She could not even recall having taken her feet before she felt the sharp kick that sent her roughly to the ground.

The confusion mounted as she listened to the cheering of a large crowd, as though she'd been cast into a coliseum. Perhaps she was to be eaten by wild animals for the Sibilines' entertainment. Sinking back onto her feet, Isana spit the dirt from her mouth and fought to focus her eyes. A bonfire burned, lighting up the mob and casting off enough heat that the cool night air no longer made her naked body shiver.

The hand gripped her hair again and jerked her head up to look into the face of a man she didn't recognize. "Look at you now Queen Isana," he snarled resulting in another riotous cheer.

"I'm not a queen," she said, her voice much louder in her head than she managed to utter.

The man let out a mocking guffaw, then straightened and gestured to the crowd like the proud winner of a contest. "She is not a queen, she says!"

"Then she is a whore!"

The voice came from someone among the crowd and was followed by a series of laughs, cheers and like remarks. Laughing and smirking down at Isana the man chortled, "what think you of that, Highness? Are you a whore?" He flashed his large white teeth, teeth that reminded Isana of a well-bred horse. "My men tell tales that you are, that you moan and wet at their every thrust."

Isana wanted to scream that she'd been drugged, but she knew well that it would do no good. They were going to debase her in every way these savages could imagine. The Commander was encircling her staring down as if determining his next tactical move. The shouts of the ranks surrounding them seemed to be spurring him on. Something must be done to appease their animal hunger, but he seemed to be weighing his options carefully as if to chose the wrong act of humiliation would result in punishment from the Bajan.

"Shall I make the Queen lick the ground at my feet?!" he shouted to which there was a roar of approval followed by a few lewd suggestions in the Sibiline slang that Isana had yet to learn.

She studied the man towering over her. His dress was far finer than that of the Captain. Captain Ewald she vaguely recalled hearing him called. Evil with a D, she'd thought. Appropriate enough. This one, though, this Commander he was less brawn and more intelligent, educated even. By build he was no less intimidating, tall and muscled in a fashion that was born only of war, not that of a farmer. His dark hair was close cropped and of an even length to his short, bristled beard. All that set him apart from the others were his wild eyes, brown and flecked with gold. The finery he wore was likely a gift from the Bajan for a job well done, as a soldier's wages were rarely high, even among the highest ranks. Wealthy men were disinclined to fight, but would rather send others to fight for them, but he may have been born of money to be as educated as she was inclined to believe.

The man caught her intense stare and kicked her over into the dirt again. With her hands bound behind her it was difficult to right herself. Isana's current state of undress also made the act humiliating. There was no demure way to regain her posture. Somehow being ritually bedded by half a dozen men in a room of strangers while blindfolded and chained to a chaise was not nearly as violating as merely kneeling in the dirt, nude and tied.

Gesturing at her he scoffed, "perhaps I should make her prove what a good whore she is!" The crowd began to excite. "I think the Queen should show her appreciation for still being ALIVE here at my feet."

Isana's mouth fell open as she processed every possible scenario that this could lead to. The Commander saw her and smiled. "Well now...it seems the Queen has decided to offer up her services..."

Striding back to her he growled down at her, "don't close that mouth, Highness...you are about to thank me for ensuring that these savages are appeased without having to let them pass you around. For most, your humiliation and their promise of walking away with a fantasy to which they can pull their own snakeskins to is enough."

Shaking her head, Isana fought back tears and bile. "I've never--"

The Commander's smile spread broadly, "oh now that is something you should have kept to yourself, sweetheart." Straightening he raised his arms to rile them more, "her Highness has never tasted cock before!! Shall I show her what a REAL MAN'S cock tastes like?!"

The uproar was deafening and Isana nearly threw up at the very idea. Her entire body quaked and on instinct she looked frantically for some sign of escape. None was to be had. Lifting her chin with a defiant set to her jaw she struggled not to cry aloud, not to let them see her crumble and collapse. A Castacean should never bow so easily nor break so thoroughly beneath the tyrannical hand of their enemy. While they were a scholarly people, they were proud and they too had a military of prowess and strength. If Isana were to rule such a nation she must reflect it.

The glower on her face only delighted the Commander, "oh Highness...your determination to refuse only makes this far sweeter."

With a single point, the Commander had a young soldier, likely his page or knave holding her by her bound wrists. He knelt behind her, his own head down, so as not to appear as anything more than her restraint. The military leader, however stood right in front of her and removed his large leather belt passing it to the knave who draped it over his shoulder. Untying his pants, the Commander then beamed a smile at her.

"I will enjoy this," he grinned. "Not everyday a man has the lips of a Queen wrapped about his cock."

"I shall bite it off..." she snarled, eyes glaring with sincerity. Suddenly the sound of the knave's dagger unsheathing sent a shiver down her spine which intensified as the cold metal pressed against the front of her throat.

With a sly grin the Commander challenged, "I don't think so, highness."

Stepping forward, the man took notice that the crowd had fallen into a low murmur. While he was not anxious to be waving his manhood about for everyone to see, the man also knew that what he had told her was true. If the soldiers were not aptly satisfied by her humiliation, he may have trouble preventing further abuse to her before the Bajan arrived. Their ruler may be angered at her treatment already, but the man would deal with that when the time came.

Exposing himself to an instantaneous roar of approval, the Commander presented his semi-erect shaft. All of Isana's will-power was put into maintaining the locked glare she had on his eyes and not turning her head in disgust or fear. "It's easy, luv...just put it in your mouth and suckle like a baby at it's mother's teet."

"I won't."

Reaching down the Commander gripped her jaw and squeezed until the pain forced her to open her mouth. With his other hand he directed his flesh into her gaping maw then moved both hands to her hair, holding her head still so she could not pull away. Isana's eyes immediately watered as she struggled not to gag, the man's member currently thrust deep into her mouth, nearly choking her. He pulled her closer as she struggled against him, her airways completely blocked then. The woman thought she would suffocate and squealed trying to pull free. A sharp slice at her throat reminded her that the dagger was still present and after a moment, tears soaking her cheeks, Isana stilled in submission. It was then that the man lessened his hold on her and withdrew enough that she could breathe.

The cacophony of shouts, cheers and jeers was overwhelming and the young Castacean fought to block it out. One hand held it's grip on her hair, but the Commander actually caressed one of her cheeks as if she were willing in all this. "I won't harm you if you cooperate...otherwise you may find yourself at the mercy of those beasts," he muttered low. Isana's eyes shifted from hatred to a desperate, silent plea. "Then do as I say, girl. Suck."

Closing her eyes in resignation, the would-be queen obeyed, occasionally gagging in her inexperience. She shook with tears as she felt him hardening more and more in her mouth until it felt as though she held a leather covered pike between her lips. "Use your tongue, little filly...roll it round. Better you do, the quicker this will be."

Clamping her eyes tighter, Isana did as she was bid. When she felt his hips begin to press against her lips, his hands guiding her head back and forth along his cock, the woman determined she was "doing well". The knave behind her had his thigh braced between her legs, the motion caused by the Commander's thrusts causing Isana's buttocks to rub against it. Even so small a stimulation should not have aroused her, yet it did. Unlike Captain Ewald, this Commander did not force her to remain in the moment, force her to know that it was him. This small mercy afforded her the opportunity to disassociate to another place and time.

In her mind it was Eulos she knelt before, a willing servant to his pleasure. Behind her was not the knave, but the mysterious man who had taken pleasure in looking at her rather than touching or mounting her. As this fantasy took shape in her mind, the misery of truth slipped away and she was able to find a genuine pleasure in her actions. The shouting around her muffled into nonsensical noise and Isana fed off the indications of pleasure uttered by the Commander, the motions of his body, each tug on her hair.

Eulos, she kept telling herself, envisioned and in doing so her body took control as though she were trained in fellatio by a master. As he pushed into her, Isana learned to open her throat. It had taken several times gagging before her body reacted in self-protection. Once she had, his pleasure and hers multiplied. The young royal could feel her loins tightening with heat and need.

A moan of desire hummed from her lips and vibrated along his root, causing the Commander's head to fall back a moment. The shouts of "Castacean whore!" elevated and the Commander looked down at her again. The tight clamp of her eyes was gone, her lashes resting lightly on her cheeks. He was no longer directing her head. Isana moved along his shaft on her own, tilting her head left and right as she lavished him with kisses he was certain were meant for another.

Suddenly struck with the strength she had to drown the insult of this in a self-serving fantasy. They were attempting to debase her, reduce her to meat for the pleasure of seeing a Castacean Queen kneel at the feet of a Sibiline, yet this young woman had taken control and made the pleasure her own. A lesser man might smack her back into reality, but Commander Hrodulf would not be that man. Instead he tightened his grasp in her hair and gave the impression to their watchers that was using her as was their want. As he watched her, however, every slide of her lips along his veined appendage grew more arousing, each curl of her tongue around his glans.

Isana had found the initial penetration vulgar. The scent of his sweat different, almost yeasty at his groin compared to the sharp acrid musk of underarm sweat. Her immediate dislike of it began to ebb and the tickle of his wiry pubic hairs in her nose no longer appalled her. The soft grunts of approval he made when she swallowed enough of him to feel that tickle, motivated her to continue doing so. Eulos, her mind fixated which only made the salt of his skin turn sweet. The light brushing of the knave's thigh against her inner thighs elevated her desire to be touched, for that shadow prince to finally bring his hands to rest on her.

A sudden rigidness in his shaft and Isana felt the man's hand grip the back of her head, pulling it against him until she nearly gagged again. Unable to pull away she slammed back into reality with the realization of what was about to happen. The impending ejaculation was not something a woman should...swallow! Her mind screamed for release, not from sexual tension, but from the Commander's grip. Then freedom was ripped from her as he groaned loudly and spewed the hot cream of his loins deep into her throat. So tightly he held her to him that she could scarcely breathe. Not swallowing would surely suffocate her. Isana clamped her eyes shut again, fresh tears stinging before streaming over her cheeks and making fresh lines in the dirt there.

"That's it, girl...take it all in," he murmured, his fingers burrowed deep in her hair and stroking at the nape of her neck. Hrodulf continued to pump against her mouth until the last of his seed had filled her gullet. A thick string of saliva and cum stretched from his tip to her lips until he stepped back and tucked himself away. The tension of the strand broke and it swung back to hang from her mouth before clinging to her chin.

The knave removed the blade from her throat and stepped back, releasing her again. Isana, although relieved it was over, sank back on her heels and hung her head in shame at what she had just done--not by force...pleasure could not be forced on someone.

While the Commander accepted his applause then gave orders to his underlings, the knave pulled Isana to her feet by her bound arms, a rather painful experience that left her shoulders aching. With a wave of his hand, the Commander directed the knave toward two tents at the far end of the camp. One was rather large and made of what looked to be very expensive fabrics. The other was much smaller although nicer than the soldier's barracks set up at this end of the camp.

She wasn't marched into the large tent to kneel before their Bajan, he had not yet arrived from...wherever. Instead the two men pushed her into the Commander's tent and onto a pile of furs. The knave unbound her arms and moved them to tie her wrists before her, much less tightly than she'd been trussed wrist-to-elbow by Captain Ewald's men. Immediately she stretched to lessen the pain in her shoulders. Isana watched the Commander build a fire as the knave did this, his focus entirely on it's construction as if the young woman and his servant did not exist. When he was finished, Hrodulf draped a warm leather cloak about her, the collar of fur, then shooed the knave out.

Silent for only a moment, Isana watched him as he began to heat a kettle of water over the fire. Finally she spat, "and I suppose you will use me as you please now--perhaps give each of your men a turn on me..."

"Do you want me to?" he asked simply as he poured the heated water into two tea cups. After handing her one cup, he sat with his own before her, then reached over and took a biscuit from his rucksack. "You must be hungry."

Isana accepted it but lowered her head and avoided his eyes as she ate and drank. Poison, of course, was a needless fear. The man would hardly do such a thing when his leader was travelling to meet her, and when she was better bartered back to the Castaceans or Actovans. Only when she was nearly finished with the biscuit did she force out a muffled "thank you."

Having watched her eat and drink, Hrodulf chuckled and before sipping at his own tea replied, "you are welcome, Highness."

"You are rather polite for a rapist," Isana accused.

Arching a brow, the man, at least Eulos' age turned his head to eye her with scrutiny. "Perhaps at first it was rape...but you seemed to find your own gratification in it."

Isana's face blazoned crimson as the most fiery sunset. Attempting to shrink down into the cloak she looked away. Hrodulf found her reaction amusing. "There is no shame in it. I find it admirable."

"Admirable?!" the young woman balked. "That I played the whore just as you filthy Sibilines marked me?"

"Filthy?" he scoffed with a smile, more charmed by her insults than wounded. Scrubbing at his chin he noted, "yes I suppose a bath and a shave are overdue. BOOTS!"

The shout startled her, but she realized his intention when the knave reappeared. "Boots," he instructed. "bring me a cauldron of bathwater and a cake of soak."

The youth nodded and was gone. Isana blinked after him then looked to Hrodulf who smiled and continued to explain to her his admiration. "You would not be the first to have knelt or been bent before that army of 'filthy Sibilines.' It is a barbaric tradition, I agree...but better one humiliation than to be tossed to them like meat to wolves."

Isana's face paled and her mouth hung wide. "You would justify one horror by threatening another?"

Hrodulf laughed heartily, "of course not. I am a man, not a monster. I can not imagine any man or woman I would subject to that torture. In fact I am quite displeased with Captain Ewald for what he has done. You should be comforted to know that I have had him punished accordingly."

The young woman looked skeptical, but Hrodulf bowed his head. "There were lashes and a it will be mentioned to the Bajan."

"And your crime?"

The man shrugged, "feel free to tell him when he arrives tomorrow."

Disgusted by his cavalier attitude, Isana set her emptied cup aside and turned her back to him. Hrodulf only smirked then waved Boots in with the bathwater. "I want no interruptions. No one is to disturb me tonight unless the Bajan arrives early or we are discovered."

The youth said nothing, only bowing and leaving. Isana glared at Hrodulf over her shoulder. "Does he not speak?"

"No," Hrodulf shook his head. The man seemed stricken with a sudden sadness as he turned his back and began to strip of his clothes. "Boots is my sister's son. She and her husband were farmers. He was very young when he witnessed them murdered, quite brutally by Castacean brigands. He's not spoken since."

"Castacean? No...my people do not believe in violence without cause. We only engage in war when it is to protect ourselves, and a Castacean would never attack helpless farmers." Isana shook her head in genuine horror.

Hrodulf smirked with a quite snort of amusement. "You are far more naive than I thought, Isana Whitespear." Turning to look at her, no longer dressed, the Commander knelt beside the steaming cauldron of water. "Do you truly know so little of your father's acts as King?"

Shaking her head, Isana defied him. "No. My father would never condone such a thing--if he had I would know. Eulos would have told me."

"Eulos..?" Hrodulf's eyes narrowed. "Eulos Estimus?" The girl's instant stiffness confirmed his suspicion. "Oh...we were young then, but I remember that Legionnaire." There was no love in his voice, nearly pure hatred. "Praetorian," he scoffed. "A savage like him does not deserve the honor of a title such as that." Straightening he exposed his side which was scarred with a gnarled slice from chest to waist and pierced again with what must have been a broad sword.

"You fought him," Isana surmised. "But he did not kill you."

"Not for lack of effort. I was left for dead. Should we meet again I would not make such a mistake with him."

The young woman pointed out, "you are soldiers. Is that not your goal as well...had the circumstances been reversed? Eulos is no savage. Whatever he did, he had good cause."

Without answering, Hrodulf flared his nostrils in anger and pointed for her to come to his side. When Isana only stared at him, he rose, tossed the cloak off of her and pulled her over. Putting the sponge and cake of soap in her bound hands he growled, "bathe me, Castacean. Gently."

Isana had pierced to close to his pride. If she had merely indicated that he was obviously not as skilled a warrior as Eulos, his reaction could not have been more clear unless he chose to beat her for it. Bathing him was a preferable option to a beating.