The Princess’s Court
Part 4 of 5
(FM/Ff nc)
The Wheels were in the dungeon, which Jessica found to be a terrifying
place. It was full of vast arches and confusing tunnels, and everywhere
she turned, there were dramas of punishment and suffering. In one room,
delicate Nixie women wiggled with unending discomfort. They were
shackled to the wall, and their wings stretched and pinned, so they
appeared as butterflies on display. In another chamber a desperate
young man tied over a bench struggled to spare his penis and scrotum the
wax drippings from a candle wielded playfully by a female warden. She
heard his pleading echo through the halls. They moved her quickly and
she was sobbing desperately so that she could only glance at the wonders
that she passed. There were suits of armor with strategic plates
removed that held bodies desperate for motion in position, their
tenderest flesh exposed to the ravishes of whips and straps. There were
rows of spanking machines with oiled leather saddles and heavy straps.
Serving girls hung from their wrists in alcoves, the glow of their
exposed flesh used to light the long, dark corridors. From one chamber
that she dared not look into, there was hysterical laughter and
breathless cries for mercy.
The Wheels were at the end, and they were just what Meredith had
described. They were massive things, gleaming in the light of torches
the light that she gave off. She could see the soft bedl of feathers
and flower pedals, broken by leather-thonged whips and thin, flexible
canes. She broke into tears just looking at them, but the guards had
their orders and there was no mercy for her.
First her wrists, and then her ankles were strapped in. The feathers
ticked her back and buttocks. She was bent so that she looked up at the
ceiling. Her sex, already miserable with need felt swollen and achy, and
she suffered cramps of frustrated excitement. She begged the guards
shamelessly, but they ignored her and when she was helpless they stepped
away. One went to the wall, and drew a lever.
The Wheels began to turn.
Oh. . . something soft whispered up between her legs. It touched the
lips of her sex, caressed her opening, and as she rolled past it, it
stroked her anus. Oh, Mercy! It was felt wonderful and she was
terrified. Another caress. . . like the petals of flowers. . . the
stone arches of the dungeon rolled past her. She was facing the floor.
Moving faster, now.
Mercyyyyy! Oh, that felt good! But there wasn’t enough, and it didn’t
touch her clitoris! Oh, the frustration!
Jessica moaned. Her flesh was hyper sensitive. The contact was barely
enough to feel, and she focused on it with all her might. Maybe, if she
could just concentrate, she could spend! Oh, Mercy, please! Her nether
lips quivered and dripped and were wiped dry by the kiss of silk. Her
clitoris was already ice-hard and she felt that if it were not touched
she would die. She felt an aching emptiness and she imagined what it
might feel like to have it filled with Roland’s cock.
Swish. . .
More! Mercy more. . . please. . .
Swish. . .
She moaned. She imagined how she might caress herself if her hands
were free. She would open her lips, wider than they were, and
ever-so-lightly, touch her clit. . . and her fingers would slip inside
her. . . and it would be divine. . .
Swish. . .
She imagined that she was on display, on the wrack in Court. Oh, the
humiliation! They would mock and tease her, and to really devastate
her, they would make her beg . . . She’d beg to spend! Oh, that would
be perfect! She’d be so punished. . .
Swish. . .
Oh, that tickled! It barely touched her sex, but it felt like a
feather duster had been run through her anus. The welts that covered
her there, came alive, itching horribly, but also sensing. Feeling.
The world whirled past and she whimpered. The gentle touching was
building up slowly. So slowly that she wanted to cry with frustration,
but it was getting there. She felt release building in her stomach.
Swish. . .Swish. . .Swish. . .
Her swollen sex drank in the attentions of the machine and she let out
whimpering moan. Mercy. . . Mercy. . . oh, when it came, it would be
incredible. She would explode! Her hips began to move in anticipation
of the orgasm. If the wheel would only go a little faster she would be
there, but the machine was superhumanly patient. No living lover could
be this slow, or this sure! She strained as much as she could, trying
to make the next contact come a little quicker.
Swish, swish, swish. . .
M-E-R-C-Y! Her face was a mask of concentration, her eyes closed, her
teeth locked. But the next tick only brushed her thighs, leaving her
sex barren. Her moan was heartrending. And the one after that, she
barely felt, but it tickled the pink line between her lips. She gasped
with frustration. She could feel the power of the orgasm building,
like a storm, from far away. Her abdomen cramped painfully with need.
Swish, swish, swish.
Soft, wonderful things, like fairy’s wings and ghost’s lips passed
between her legs. Oh, Mercy, how could they do this to her? It seemed
like, at any moment, if she would just. . . just brush against. . .
SPLAT!
Jessica howled. Her thoughts scattered. The pain was incredible,
stinging, smarting, agony. The Wheels had wheels within them, and she
had passed, on her way down, a many tailed whip coming up. Oh, mercy,
no! Oh, impossible! She cried out again, this time as much in
frustration as in pain. Now, her sex throbbed with misery where the
whip had kissed it. She could feel lines of fire against her, and the
gentle caress of the feathers and flower petals only slowly began to
soothe her. She fell into broken sobs when, at last, the ache blended
with desperate, wire-thin need that tormented her.
And the pleasure started building again. Oh, mercy, she begged. Oh,
mercy, let me spend this time. Mercy, please. . .
A hundred turns, had passed. The room was the same. The speed of the
wheel was the same. Everything was the same, except for her. On each
turn, she was stroked and teased and pleasured and punished. Each turn
built within her, a tension born of sexual need on one hand and pain on
the other. Now, after a hundred strokes to her sex and anus, she was
horribly sore. The misery was constant, and the fear of the next lash
was agonizing. Would it come now? Or later? When? Every second was
spent in anticipation of lash.
And yet the soothing caress felt so good! If she could only ignore the
threat of punishment, she might spend and spend and then hang limply,
for after that release, there would be nothing left of her. And if she
didn’t spend, it seemed the need to would simply rip her apart! Her
taught, naked body writhed with pleasure promised but only punishment
delivered.
Her sex blazing and dripping, her face contorted by misery, frustration
and need, and her body trembling with it’s own rhythms, Jessica turned
slowly on the Wheels.
Katherine had stopped, right before she spent. She wanted to be ‘on
razor’s edge’ to enjoy the feast. She also knew that, just as
punishment deferred is punishment intensified, so it is with pleasure.
So she forced herself to be still and recover her wits before she
summonsed Meredith to dress her for the Sentencing and the Feast.
"Will the hall be full," She asked the serving girl, as she labored
with her Princess’s corset.
"Oh, yes, Your Highness! They are arriving even now. I had heard
that many of them had not heard of Lady Connor’s current. . . condition,
Miss, and that they saw her, and her them for the first time in ages, as
she wiggled on the wrack."
Katherine smiled and closed her eyes to let her mind fill with the
image! Oh, how humiliating! "And her. . . glow?" She asked, still
savoring it.
"Ever bright. She’s been kept in suspense all day."
Oh! Maybe, she thought, she should have finished herself. Surely she
would be ready to enjoy the festivities again, in minutes, if this
evening kept it’s delightful pace. Of course Andrea’s misery was just
an appetizer. The main course would be Jessica.
"And what of Lady Jessica, Meredith? How does she fair?"
Meredith looked down, and Katherine felt her face flush with alarm.
"She hasn’t spent, has she?" The Wheels should never allow that! But
clearly something was up.
The handmaid looked up, quickly, "Oh, Your Highness, no! But. . ."
Katherine put her hands on her hips. "Meredith, please tell me what’s
going on with Jessica."
Meredith swallowed. "I. . . She was to be taken off at sixty
revolutions. . . She was left on for over four hundred, Miss. . ."
She looked at the floor.
"Four hundred! Why, Meredith, she’ll be delirious!" She thought of it.
Four hundred near-but-not-quite-orgasms, four hundred sessions of
terrifying mechanical discipline. And after a sleepless night, as well.
She glared at the maid. "What is her state?"
Meredith looked up, hopefully, and Katherine realized that it wasn’t
that bad. "She’s aware miss. She cannot sit or close her legs, and
she is horribly swollen and wet, but she knows what she faces enough to
beg for your pardon. . ."
Katherine smiled. "Was this. . . disobedience intentional?"
Meredith nodded, but smiled. Like the Princess, she found the idea of
punishment for disobedience arousing, but she was far too careful and
tender to actually break a rule the Princess would discipline for. She
had come close this time. Katherine studied her. "Four hundred turns.
Can you imagine how she must suffer?"
"Oh, she’s in agony, Miss! Her sex smarts unbearably, itches, and begs
for friction that, if it were received, she couldn’t abide. She was
left untied, and couldn’t even stand to masturbate herself! And she
tried as we watched!"
Katherine felt herself impressed. She had thought sixty was a great
many, but she had secretly wished to roast Jessie for longer. The
Handmaid had realized this and had sought to please her. Masturbated
without care for an audience! Oh, she must need it! The Princess
considered what an amusing show that would make! Her sex throbbed in
her panties, and she, had a whim. Something relatively harmless to
amuse her in the background of her mind while she ran the court. She
studied the young Handmaid. She was a pretty girl, and used her own
fear of punishment to devise terrible trials for others. "I am sure you
knew I would be pleased with the outcome, if not your methods,"
Katherine told her. The Handmaid grinned shyly, but proud. "I am,
Dear. You have pleased your Princess. "But since that is what you
wish, let me describe another way you may please me."
"Anything, Your Highness," The girl said.
"Guard? Escort Meredith down to the Wheels. I wish to enjoy the
thought of her swallowing her own medicine." She smiled gently into the
Child’s terrified, wide-eyed expression. "Don’t worry, Dear. I don’t
mean for you to suffer extravagantly. You’ll only turn a few times. No
more than ten, and then I’ll be down to release you."
"But. . . but, please. . ." She was shaking her head. "Miss, please!
I couldn’t bare it!"
Katherine stroked her, comforting her. "You shall. Oh, I know how
tender you are, but it shan’t be for long. And I promise that you’ll be
able to make it up with Jessie. I’ll give her to you for a day to play
with when she’s a servant here. Okay? Your Princess will be very
pleased to know that you’ve suffered just a bit. But not too much. I
wouldn’t want the girls to feel that you had been punished for properly
caring for them."
Meredith swallowed her tears and tried to hide her fear and her anger.
She tried to be brave as she was lead away. Katherine sighed. It would
teach her a lesson, but it mustn’t go on too long. Still. "Guard," She
added softly, "Instead of setting it for a certain number of turns, let
it turn until I arrive. After all, if I am a little late, I don’t what
her getting bored." He nodded, and she listened to the teenager start
to sob angrily when she thought she was out of earshot. Don’t worry,
Child, she thought. I’ll be down right after the feast.
It was, she thought, going to be a wonderful party.
Jessica suffered a very special kind of agony. Raw pain, of course,
but mixed with so many other sensations that she could hardly identify
it. The pounding, throbbing need was the worst of it. She tried to
clear her mind of the things it brought to her but that was impossible.
So she merely suffered extravagantly. At least it was over, she told
herself. The time on the Wheels. But what came next would be her
undoing.
She replayed the morning with Roland as she had so many times today.
He had kissed her, and told her he liked her. And he had told her. . .
he had told her that a man who understood her would cherish her. It was
almost agony to consider what he would think of her when he saw her
private fantasies. Despair wracked her and she cried because of it as
well as everything else. She was still sobbing when he came to collect
her. She looked up at him and she could see in the concern of his face
how pathetic she was.
"Oh, Jessica. . ." He was speechless. He knelt. "Open your legs.
Let me see. . . Mercy. . ." He was shaking his head, looking at the
thoroughly attended region between her legs. He looked into her eyes.
"You. . . you turned on the wheel all day?" Disbelief. She nodded, and
he held her head tightly, rocking her back and forth. "Oh, baby," He
murmured to her. "Mercy, Jessie. . . poor baby. . ." When she moaned
he looked down. "What now?"
"Please. . . Oh, Sir, I beg you. . . you mustn’t attend the
Sentencing. Please! If you have any mercy at all!"
"I. . . Jessica, you know I have no choice." He studied her, not
understanding. "Why. . . why do you not want me there?" Had she hurt
him by telling him to go? Oh, this was horrible. But she couldn’t
tell him. She would explain as best she could.
"They’re. . . they’re going to humiliate me horribly! I. . . I
couldn’t bare for you to see that. . ." She looked up, into his eyes,
trying to make him understand the magnitude of her fear.
He nodded. "Of course they are going to humiliate you. And that’s why
I’m forced to be there. Humiliation is being naked. Being exposed,
without any of the protection society gives you. It’s to make you
ridiculous. It’s as important in punishment as the pain. More so. And
they know I. . . that I care about you. And they know. . ." He sighed.
"It is not an option."
"Roland!" He stood, to motion the guards to bring in their package.
She grabbed his sleeve, crying, "Please! You don’t understand!" But
then she was struck speechless, because it was the X-wrack an a wheeled
cart. The dowel had been greased so that it gleamed sinisterly in the
fire-light of the small chamber. She cried out, but he ignored her.
First her arms were secured. Then, with one guard holding each leg, he
guided her hips back toward the wooden rod. She struggled because she
couldn’t not struggle. He shook his head, and then held his palm above
her sex, while the guards, supporting her weight, held her immobile.
"Do you want me to spank your sex?" He asked mildly.
"Roland! N-no. . . oh, mercy, no!"
There was a devastatingly wet smack as he slapped the swollen organ.
Jessica screamed and kicked and writhed. It was horrible! And
terrifying. She looked into his eyes, shaking her head. No. . .no. . .
she said nothing.
He nodded. "Then will you submit?"
She nodded again.
His hand remained, threatening a threat she couldn’t bear. Unable to
look at it, she turned away. Wrong.
SPLAT!
She howled at the top of her lungs, and her body spasmed. He had her
full attention. "Say it," He ordered. "No more nonsense from you.
Yes, I do care for you. Yes, I do feel. . . that some things are amiss.
But I also believe that you deserve to be very thoroughly punished, and
I will gladly carry out that order. Now tell me you will submit to me."
"I su-hu-hub-mit, Sir," She blubbered out. "Please. . . mercy,
please,"
"You’ll have to trust me, Jessica."
She nodded.
He rolled her hips and she gasped. Then she moaned. There was
pressure against her raw, smarting anus, and she couldn’t bear it. Then
the pressure got worse and she felt her sphincter began to surrender.
No! Her body rebelled as best it could, but she felt herself opening.
Oh, it was huge! It felt so. . . authoritative back there. She
stretched and widened to allow it passage. She felt it enter the warm,
tight confines of her body. It was. . . oh, mercy, it was inside her,
and she could feel every inch of it! He slowly lowered her onto the
greased pole.
Then it was in. Many of the punishments they so enjoyed administering
generated an embarrassing physical need of great intensity that the
subject was not able to satisfy. Thus the hunger of her sex demanded
that she masturbate to relieve it. The itch that still bedeviled her
nipples would encourage her to rub herself, there, improperly, had she
been able. The rod generated, within her, the sensation of being full
and needing with impossible urgency and desperation to empty herself.
She squirmed as much as she could, but there was no escaping it.
Roland nodded. "Take her before the Court," He commanded, and they
began their journey.
"Silence, please," Cried the announcer. "The Court invites you to look
to the main doors as Lady Jessica McLangly is presented for sentencing."
They stood, and looked with great interest. They had no idea what to
expect, so her state of utter disgrace would be a surprise. She heard
the squeak of the wheels of her cart as she was rolled through the door.
Oh, Mercy!
She had thought she would cry, but this was a humiliation beyond tears.
In the moment that the dozens and dozens of Lords and Ladies looked upon
her, she realized that she would always be remembered this way. And
that they could enjoy her misery guiltlessly because she deserved it and
because she glowed.
She hung her head and whimpered. Her hips moved because they could not
be still. If the smarting sting in her raw sex didn’t compel her, the
rod that spread her buttocks so much would have. But those discomforts
were even unnecessary. She needed to spend so bad she couldn’t wait to
be allowed to ask for it. Maybe, she thought with great shame, if I
mortify myself, I’ll be ‘rewarded’ the way Andrea was. At least it
would be something. . .
Katherine stood, and looked down from the dais at her. "Welcome to the
Court, Jessica. Oh my! Oh, my! We have been naughty, haven’t we?"
Laughter. The Princess’s simpering tone was perfect mockery and the
Court appreciated it. "Clearly you are very. . . ready. . . for your
sentence." She spoke to the gathered crowd. "This young lady’s passion
has gotten her here. I felt it would educational for the Court to see
exactly what sort of imaginings could lead a girl so astray. With the
help of a spell prepared by the Court Magician, her thoughts will be
made public. If she can. . . resist. . . thinking of such things, she
may disappoint us, but I believe that will not be the case. Do you have
anything to say, Jessica?"
She looked up. She had to try! Maybe, just maybe if she were utterly
sincere and held nothing back! She cried desperately, her face raised
to Katherine and begged, "Please, Princess! I beg you and the Court
don’t reveal me so! I beg some other humiliation!"
Katherine just smiled and Jessica, lifted a narrow wand, with a flick
of her wrist, set Jessica’s mind free. She held it as long as she
could, and though the magic was strong, her desperate fear of loosing
Roland was stronger. For a moment, nothing happened. She looked at
him, terror streaming down her cheeks, and he shook his head. "Tell
them, Jessica," He whispered.
Oh, Mercy, she thought.
And she did.
They were the most arousing things she could think of. Being walked on
a leash. Being punished in public. Made to serve and obey. Being
displayed naked in public, and performing all manner of sex in private.
She imagined being used mercilessly, his cock, which she imagined to be
huge, sliding in and out of her, without regard for her pleasure. She
imagined humiliating scenes in which she was treated as a bad little
girl. Being forbidden or compelled to masturbate. She imagined all
this, but, almost worse, were her teddy-bear-sweet, story-book-romantic
endings, in which he forgave and loved her. Respected her, even,
although it seemed ludicrous. Held her and pressed his lips against
her, soothing her tears. She was a tough, proud girl, and her secrets
mortified her. The crowd sat in awe.
In the silence that followed, she heard a voice. It was his.
Roland’s. It was loud and clear. "May I address the Court?"
There were some whispers. A few. Mainly exclamations of respect for
his bravery and willing to draw their attention to him and away from the
supplicant at a time like this. If his reasons were not. . .
impeccable? And maybe even if they were, he would still risk the
Princess’s sever displeasure.
"Of course you may, Roland. I presume you wish to. . . comment?
Comment on Lady McLangly’s rather interesting ponderances of you." She
smiled sweetly, and the Court nodded and babbled softly in agreement.
That was it! He meant to make some joke or declaration at the poor
Lady’s expense and heighten her misery! In the moment between her
assent and his reply, they all agreed that it was a very shrewd move,
and would like advance him within his rank.
With a misery like the weight of oceans, Jessica felt herself sink.
Her face burned with the shame of what she had showed them, and she
waited, her breath held, for him to lower the axe.
"I wish to speak of my observations of Lady Jessica McLangly," He said.
"Proceed, Lance Corporal." She studied him impatiently. Yes, since he
had featured rather prominently in her fantasies, he was entitled to his
moment of fame. But drawing it out was unwise. Especially since she
had some wonderful, witty and amusing things to tease poor, sobbing,
humiliated Jessica with. Hurry! she willed him.
"I believe the Court will agree that, whatever her other faults. . .
and they may be. . ." He glanced at her and sighed. "many. . .
clearly dishonesty is not one of them." He waited.
She looked at his eyes, trying to guess where he might be going with
this, but his eyes were blank. Soldier’s eyes, she thought. Dismiss
him, then. Tell him that he may make speeches on his own time. But
that blank stare of his was, in some subtle way a challenge, and to
dismiss him would be to back down from it. While she considered, the
men and women in the Galleries, speaking amongst themselves in soft
whispers had agreed that she was an honest girl. She had pled guilty,
hadn’t she? And had admitted everything now, before everyone!
"She has been honest, Lance Corporal." She looked at him. "If you’ve
something to say, then say it. And in any event, I wish to see you when
Court is adjourned."
That should have buckled his knees. It didn’t phase him.
"Only this, Your Highness. When I collected her, she fled at first,
but then came with me. We discussed her crimes and she told me that she
was guilty and deserved the fine punishment that she has received." He
stopped, and walked forward, his footsteps echoing in the great chamber.
He came to stand before the Princess and the Prince. "She mentioned
then, that she had not sinned alone. That many of the girls in her
class were guilty of such things." He looked up, his eyes meeting the
Princess’s. "I realize, Your Highness, that these Courts and
punishments are not for crimes committed long ago, but only for those
who have continued, in their adulthood, to indulge in forbidden
pleasures. I have given some thought as to how she might have been
caught. Her and Lady Connor. And, I confess that I have very few
ideas. But it is clear that they both have a passionate imagination and
a taste for extreme sensations." He stood a moment. "I feel that it is
my duty, as a sworn defender of the Great Contract to express these
observations and to ask, Your Highness, were there any other girls who
shared these traits and were known to dream meddle?"
Princess Katherine opened her lips to speak and then closed them.
"What are you implying, Soldier?" She said. She said it coldly.
"That there may be some who deserve to be punished, who have, so far,
escaped justice." He did not look away.
She laughed. "Commendable, Lance Corporal. If it were your duty to
investigate these things, you would be a tribute to your uniform. As it
stands, I can only assure you that these matters are." She leaned
forward, giving him one last chance, "well in hand. Now, you have
interrupted us enough, and stolen some of Lady McLangly’s well earned
fame, so please await my audience in a side chamber."
He didn’t move. He studied her, and then he nodded. "Your Highness, I
feel that there is enough evidence in Lady McLangly’s statements and
your demeanor to implicate. . . you."
Nobody breathed and nobody moved. Jessica looked at him, standing
alone, and she wanted to beg that he cease. That he not condemn himself
any further, but it was obviously already too late.
"Get this sniveling, heretical peon out of my sight," The Princess
said. She said it to the guards. Her voice was normal. Outraged, but
hardly afraid. When the guards moved, his hand went, ever so subtly to
his sword and they stopped.
"I will surrender myself to your will, Your Highness, as soon as you
have addressed my concern."
She glared at him. "I will do no such thing. And you will be
tormented day and night in the public square for this. You’ll. . ."
"Did you ever dream meddle?" He asked, interrupting her.
She opened her mouth. And then closed it. There were, of course, many
people here who knew. She could not simply deny it. The Prince looked
at her and she felt color and a faint heat in her cheeks. "I. . . In
school. . ." She laughed, but it was a funny, almost pitched laugh that
sounded the slightest bit hysterical in the quiet of the Court. "It was
years ago." She stared at her husband. "Richard, everyone did it.
This is. . . This is not the place." She mustered her dignity and
brandished her authority and turned back. "Guards, I have spoken.
Remove this man immediately. He has insulted his Princess, and he will
pay."
"Have you dream meddled since school, Your Highness?"
She looked at him, thinking that she must not let anyone see the fear
that threatened to explode from her chest. She must not, for a moment
let them think that she was anything less than utterly unconcerned. She
gripped the arms of her throne to keep her hands from trembling. Oh,
mercy, why didn’t he flee? How could he stand to challenge her? She
was. . . she was terrible.
Because, she saw, when she looked into his eyes, he was sure.
And his certainty allowed anything. She felt her lips tremble.
"Never," She said. "Never since." She swallowed, thinking
hysterically, that she must speak louder if they were to believe her.
"I. . ."
"Would you say so under Compelled Oath, Your Highness?" he asked
blandly.
"No!" She looked around. "I. . ." She turned to the Prince. "Why do
you allow this? Richard, this. . . this man. . . and the guards. . .
and all the servants who have not removed him must be. . ."
He studied her intensely and seconds passed in which he neither moved
nor spoke. Then it was clear from his manner that he reached some
conclusion. But he said nothing.
There was a single, soft footfall as Roland approached the dais. She
shrank back into the plush chair, he eyes wide as she looked into his.
Oh, Mercy. . . mercy, no. . . please. . . she shook her head and her
lips whispered, ". . . anything you desire! Please. . . oh, mercy. . ."
"Sire," Roland said, "I am no magician, but I believe I can compel the
truth from your wife by more traditional means. If I may?"
The Prince glanced mildly around the crowded room. He shrugged. "You
are a Soldier. Do your duty,"
Katherine moaned.
The Lance Corporal smiled.
ArkSyn
