Courtesy of my delicious sub and friend: MJ Anonymous
He didn't know how, but the arrogant knight who’d accosted him in the market square now lay dead amongst the mud and rotten fruit. Before he could run, the palace guard had appeared from nowhere, pushed him to the ground and bound him tightly, all the while raining blows on his unprotected body until the blue sky seen far above had shrunk to a single point then winked out and all was blackness.
He groggily
came to, not knowing how long he’d been unconscious. It took him a moment to
realise a hood had been put over his head. Taking an inventory of himself there
seemed no lasting damage, he was naked and had been tied to a wall, his limbs
stretched out.
Considering he’d only arrived in this mountain kingdom that day, events had taken a dramatic turn. He was a soldier – a mercenary to put it more accurately – looking for work. He’d barely had time to think before he found some pig-headed fool blocking his way, taunting him, telling him to go back to his pig sty. Tired as he was, he never took note of the bright armour and proud sword of this stuck-up, insulting, knave and almost without thinking his long knife was at the throat of his opponent. Maybe the knight hadn’t seen the flash of the dull but razor sharp blade, maybe he’d been jostled from behind or momentarily blinded by the sun. Thinking only to threaten he’d found himself a murderer as the knight had thrust forward forcing the blade to slice into his throat.
And now?
Obviously he was in trouble. But in how much trouble and would he escape with
his life? He barely had time to think on his predicament when there were noises
as of a large door opening and the shuffling of feet, interspersed with a
tattoo of hard, sharp, clipped footsteps.
The hood
was roughly pulled off his head and at first his eyes struggled to adjust to
the light, He could just make out a trio of palace guards but in front of them
was what looked to be a shining star, shimmering bright and blinding. Slowly
the mirage resolved itself into a young woman, dressed in diaphanous costume, a
small crown or tiara perched atop her long, flowing hair. He looked hard at
her, taking in the exposed flawless skin, the hint of curves and long slim legs
ending in a pair of delightfully small feet encased by jewel encrusted
high-heeled shoes. He was entranced by her beauty, involuntarily smiling and
failing to take into account he was obviously in some sort of dungeon.
She turned to the guards behind her, “Leave
us!” she barked at them.
“But your
majesty...” one replied.
“Have no
fear, I will be safe. Unlike this piece of offal in front of me...”
The guards
reluctantly departed, pulling the door shut with an awful finality.
Slowly she
looked him up and down, as if she was deciding whether to buy a joint of meat.
Still regarding him through half closed eyes she crossed the dungeon and
selected a riding crop from a collection of instruments carefully stacked at
one side. She swished it through the air a few times as if testing it for
strength and durability. Then she marched straight towards him.
The crop
landed on his bare skin with a sting of a thousand wasps, again and again she
struck him. “Still smiling are you? She shouted. “Murder my lover in cold blood
would you?”
Through the
pain of the blows he realised things were worse than they’d previously
appeared. So the stupid knight had been her lover and she was the queen of this
godforsaken kingdom. No wonder she was so angry and it looked like she was
going to take it all out on him.
For such a
small and somewhat frail woman she had the strength of a demon. She was
starting to tired now though, beads of sweet appearing and making the material
of her clothes stick to her body. Despite the pain he could now see outlined
more of what lay beneath those outer coverings and it started to excite him.
She broke
off suddenly, panting slightly with the exertion. She regarded him again
muttering almost to herself, “So you’re going to be a tough one to crack.” She
noticed the way he now looked at her.
“Take a
good look then as this is the last time you’ll ever see a woman’s body.”
Despite her
anger she could feel herself becoming aroused. Thoughts of her foolish and
arrogant lover were fading. Maybe...
The dungeon
was becoming hot, her victim was fully restrained and no danger to her. It
couldn’t hurt to tease him a little. Slowly she removed her outer garments in a
suggestive manner, seeing out of the corner of her eye how he responded.
Virtually naked she stalked over to him and kissed him deeply, sliding her
lithe body against his. “You like that?” she asked. His responsive was both
non-verbal and obvious.
But she’d
not finished with him yet. He needed to be taught a lesson, a painful one.
Although she would of course continue to tease him throughout his punishment,
she may be the queen but she was still entitled to some fun.
His body
was criss-crossed with burning read welts from the riding crop. What should she
select next? She studied her arsenal. She suddenly remembered how her lover
used to lick, suck and nibble at her nipples and how good it made her feel.
Well her uninvited guest could suffer a bout of nipple torture in recompense!
She
selected just what she needed and prepared to go to work. Standing before him
she took his proud cock in one hand, gently stroking it. She could see the
hunger for her in his eyes. Not yet...
Slapping
his cock out of the way she attached the clamps to his nipples and proceeded to
twist and pull until she thought he’d surrender. She looked at him enquiringly,
wanting to see the defeat and submission in his eyes, but he just stared back,
even more hungry for her now than before. She removed the clamps and rubbed his
chest, massaging the pain away.
She was hot
for him now, she wanted him on her, inside her, his rough hands all over her
body. But she wouldn’t give in to her desire just yet. The exquisite denial for
herself and the thought of him at her mercy was making her wet. She stripped
off the last of her clothes, paraded in front of him in just her high heels,
grabbed him, fondled him, squeezed his cock in her hand, ran fingernails over
his scrotum until he squirmed. She moved to the side and adjusted the mechanism
that kept him suspended and spread-eagled. She lowered him down, still
restrained.
He was now
spread-eagled on the floor while she stood over him. She lowered herself down,
the tip of his cock just brushing against her moist pussy. He shuddered and
squirmed.
“Not yet,”
she replied, “First we need to establish who’s boss here.”
She stood
up and lifted one perfect foot before slamming the point of her heel deep into
his belly. The pain was incredible but he bore it and even pretended to like
it. She stood on that one leg, balancing herself, putting all her weight on
that heel. Now he showed the pain in his face and she was immensely pleased
that at last, she was on the verge of breaking him.
She stepped
off and he sighed deeply. Before he could fully recover she’d knelt either side
of his head, squashing herself down on his mouth. “Lick me out,” she demanded
and he started to push his tongue inside her, probing all around her. She
squirmed in exultant pleasure as she realised her previous lover had never
satisfied her like this, had never been able to instinctively find those places
within her which sent pulsating waves of pleasure through her body, leaving her
shaking.
She looked
down at him; like the cat who got the cream, she thought, but was that such a
bad thing? She knew now he was hers, her plaything, but also still his own man.
She also knew he would strain at the leash but would never leave.
“Is my
punishment complete your majesty?” he asked in an almost mocking tone. She
stood up, turned around and lowered herself onto his face again.
“Not yet,”
she replied, “Not until you’ve done what you did to me a second and maybe a
third time.”
Eagerly he
started on her, as she leant forward and took his cock into her mouth.