26 comments/ 34544 views/ 32 favorites Empress Enslaved Ch. 01 By: MichaelMasters This is the first of a two-part story of blackmail and submission. Very much open to suggestions as to how part two should be concluded - enjoy! ***** The palace sweltered under the ferocity of the noon Sun. The coming and going of harassed, glistening courtiers was watched dolefully by the three servants in the otherwise empty side chamber. "Three days. I'm telling you, just three more days and this whole city will be decorated in barbarian heads on spikes. The army will destroy them," Maria was saying. She cast an angry glance out of the window that Elizabeth had taken to standing by and staring out of. Elizabeth did not seem reassured. "Three days is a long time Maria! Who knows what will happen to us before the Kommandair gets here? You know what these people are like - the... things... they do to conquered cities..." She turned back to look out of the window. "We are not a conquered city, Elizabeth," Maria retorted. "It takes more than a band of unwashed horsemen to conquer a city like Morgavia. I mean come on, they haven't even penetrated the inner walls yet - the old town is just fine. These stupid barbarians don't even have gunpowder. They're just... occupying. Temporarily. They wouldn't dare do anything more." Elizabeth snorted in derision. She hadn't said anything, but everyone in the room knew her family had been forced to give quarters to some of the invaders yesterday, and she hadn't heard from them since the palace had been sealed off with them inside. Maria turned to Annabelle. "What do you think Belle?" she asked. She had no easy answer to that. She couldn't deny feeling real terror when news of this approaching barbarian horse lord had reached the city, especially given that they were unusually undefended at the time - the army was warring against some foreign state or other (she could never remember their names). She's always assumed Morgavia was impregnable, but a day later the columns of muscular, swarthy horseman were riding down the Imperial Setway, and their leader was demanding the city's submission. It was hard to say what would happen next. "I think... I think the Empress will know what to do. She'll keep us safe," she said at last. If they couldn't trust her, Isabella the First and Empress of all Morgavian dependancies, who could they trust? Maria said nothing. She knew Maria adored the Empress as much as she did - the three of them were Empress Isabella's personal handmaidens after all, and it just wasn't possible to serve the Empress in such close quarters without a real sense of adoration. But she knew Maria was a bit more reserved when it came to all that. "The doors are opening!" cried Elizabeth in alarm. Maria didn't get up. "Unless you hear the scrape of steel, which you don't, then it's not an attack. They must be sending a representative to surrender or something." Belle had to admire Maria's cool in a situation like this. Nothing ever ruffled Maria - not even a barbarian occupation, it seemed. Smart, and beautiful - by far the prettiest of the three of them - it was no wonder she had risen to be such a senior servant in the palace. Everybody loved Maria - especially the men of the court. And, it did indeed seem as though a representative of the horsemen had entered the palace. She could hear his gruff male tones from here - he seemed to have a pretty good grasp on the language. "How is Donovan?" Maria asked Elizabeth. Belle had to admire her attempt to change the subject, but Elizabeth would not be so easily soothed. "Hmm? Oh, fine I guess," she replied. It had been the talk of the servant's quarters for a brief afternoon last week when news of Elizabeth and the young guardsman's escapades in the bushes had spread, and it seemed they were still meeting regularly. Though she was often overshadowed by Maria, Elizabeth was a beautiful woman in her own right - she certainly didn't want for male attention. Belle had never quite mastered the art of drawing the male gaze. Next to the tanned skin and sultry eyes of Maria, Belle's tall frame and round figure didn't quite match up. She was what polite society called 'big boned' - not fat, exactly, but hardly petite. Before Maria could press the point, a deep, musical horn rang through the palace. "She's coming!" cried Belle. Maria got to her feet, and even Elizabeth left her sentry by the window to join her friends by the balcony. The Empress was coming. Belle looked down at the small procession, and felt the familiar joy rise in her breast at the sight of Isabella. It instantly calmed her nerves. She looked so regal, so beautiful and resplendent as she made her way through the grand chamber. She carried herself with a dignity and authority that belied her delicate frame, and seemed to positively radiate reassurance to the unhappy palace. Belle had served the empress for six years now, since she was thirteen and the Empress herself was nineteen, and she never failed to have this effect. Isabella made her way slowly toward the large doors at the end of the chamber, followed by two of her senior advisors. If they were there, it could only mean negotiations were underway. They were going to be OK... "Do you really think she can save us from them?" asked Elizabeth. "Yes," said Belle, with some confidence. Maria said nothing. "Don't you think so?" "I guess," Maria answered. "I mean, sure sending so much of the army overseas wasn't a great move, but I'm sure she knows what she's doing." Belle stared at her reproachfully. "I'm just saying! I'm sure she had good reason to send them so far away. And besides, it's like I said - they're the ones who should be asking for mercy. The army won't be absent for much longer. They'd better toe the line, or in three days they'll all be on a bonfire." Belle did not respond. * * * Isabella remained calm as she ascended the old stairway to what had once been a debating chamber, back in the days when Morgavia had been little more than a speck on the world stage, and diplomacy was of such little concern to its kings. Isabella was always calm - she was good at it. "Their King is in the Blue Chamber, your excellency," said councillor Portilla, hiding his wheezing breath well. "The man they call J'akart Jho is not a King, councillor," she corrected him, "but thank you. I will see him alone." "Alone?" remarked councillor Grutte. "Your excellency..." Isabella gave the two old men a curt smile. She trusted their wisdom just as much now as she had at any time during her ten year reign, but she knew she was correct on this matter. The only way she could command the respect of this J'akkart Jho, the respect that any sovereign of Morgavia deserved, was to appear without her trusted councillors. "I will deal with the horselord. Thank you gentlemen." The two men bowed and left, without voicing the concerns she was certain they must have. She had spent most of her reign reassuring men that she knew what she was doing. It had been much worse in the beginning. A girl of just sixteen coming to the throne, daughter of a much revered king who had made Morgavia a major player on the world stage - people were sure the city state would be a ruin by the end of the year. But she had shown them. There had been a plague of would-be 'councillors' and 'advisors' in the early days. Now the only ones who remained were good men, like councillor Grutte and councillor Portilla, who had proved themselves loyal and wise - and respectful. To Isabella's irritation the horselord had seen fit to station his own guard outside the Blue Chamber - a big, muscular brute who didn't even have the deference to bow his head as she approached, but stared at her through his long braided hair. She ignored him, and entered the chamber. "Empress Isabella the First," boomed the man's voice from within, "we meet at last." J'akkart Jho's voice was deep, but somewhat silky, in contrast with the raspy, guttral tones she had come to expect from the few of his kind she had met, and he masked his accent well. He rose from his seat and bowed in the proper way. She had to give him credit - he had even donned a set of Morgavian ceremonial robes, unlike the brute who was currently guarding the chamber. "Lord J'akkart," replied the Empress, acknowledging the bow with a nod but otherwise remaining stiff and impassive. She tried to take the measure of her city's would-be conqueror. He was powerfully built, like all the rest of them - she'd never seen one of them below six feet, and this one must surely have been almost seven feet tall. But he didn't seem so keen to appear as an unthinking thug as the others did, and his hair wasn't shoulder length like the rest of them, but closely cropped. Perhaps he was trying to win her respect. "King J'akkart, your highness," J'akkart corrected her. Isabella bristled - from what little they knew about these horse riding barbarians, it seemed that J'akkart's father was the one who started this ridiculous pretence of calling himself King, after he'd united a few of the smaller tribes. But it took more than that to make a king - no other civilised state had recognised the title. Isabella's own Father had made Morgavia's stance on this issue quite plain. Still, it wouldn't do to quarrel on this point - not when J'akkart had an army in the city and she did not. She walked forward and took the seat facing J'akkart over the table. As she did so she was aware that she was not the only one sizing up their opponent; she could feel the self-proclaimed King's gaze exploring her body. This was nothing new to her. As a young empress of a powerful state, there were endless ballads and poems written about Isabella's beauty, but even on a modest day Isabella would have to concede that there was little embellishment. She had always been pretty, even as a princess, and now at twenty-six she was at what she supposed would be the height of her physical attractiveness. She had the long, sleek black hair that was so envied among Morgavians, and the pale complexion to match it. Her slender frame, delicate features and conspicuous breasts broadcast a femininity that had been such a hurdle in getting her people to respect her. So she was used to the male gaze, but coming from one such as J'akkart, it was a little imposing. "I have agreed to this meeting, so that we can agree the details of your withdrawal from my city, as well as the tribute your people will pay to compensate for the loss of life, property and security of mind that your warband has caused," she began, meeting the barbarian square in the eye. "As you will be aware, the Morgavian army is little more than a day away, and failure to comply with these demands will result in the utter destruction of your soldiers." J'akkart's eyes bored into hers, but his smile didn't flicker. "Little more than a day you say? My dear Empress, there's so much we could accomplish in that time! I have over five thousand riders encamped throughout Morgavia - we could sack the city bare and be away before your Kommandairs get here." His expression of serene calmness did not falter even as he so casually promised death and destruction. "I have no doubt your musket-wielding tin soldiers would be very angry with my people, but I can assure you they will never find us once we are back in the steppes." "You severely underestimate us, Lork J'akkart," replied Isabella, coolly. She was well aware of the predicament they were in, but balking under such naked threats would only make things worse. "King J'akkart, your highness, King," he chided her again, almost playfully. "You are not your Father, why cling to his disrespectful attitude toward us, especially when we are quite literally on your doorstep?" Isabella said nothing - whatever happened, she would not dignify this invader with the title he so clearly craved. "I see you wish to do what is best for your people. I appreciate that. Let me be blunt therefore, and get straight to the point." Isabella sat slightly more to attention in her seat - she had had no word that the barbarians were willing to offer a deal. "What point is that?" she asked. "We will spare your splendid little city. We will not sack it. We will not pillage its treasures, or break into its inner walls. We will spare its people. We will leave tomorrow, in good order. We will even pay the tribute that you requested of us." "Go on," said Isabella, somewhat apprehensive of the price this surprising offer would carry. "And in return, my delicious, splendid little Empress, all I ask in for in return, is your good self," he finished. Once again his gaze travelled the length of Isabella's body, sending shivers up her back. "I'm not entirely sure I understand what you mean," she said. "It is quite simple, your highness. In return for the good graces of my people, you will offer yourself to me, for one night. A night of total submission, I should make clear. It would be a private affair, between the two of us and, aha, one or two of my most loyal generals. No one would ever know the price you paid to save your city from utter ruin - a quite reasonable price I might add," J'akkart said, his perpetual grin widening as he explained himself. A cold, helpless fury trickled through Isabella. Never, never had she been so insulted. She would not expect a common washerwoman to be spoken to like this. Did they not know who she was? Was this how they treated an empress? By propositioning her like she was some threepenny whore? She rose to her feet, hate in her eyes. J'akkart's eyes descended again, and the slightest purse of his lips pushed the usually icily calm Isabella over the edge. She raised her hand to strike the barbarian. The sound of a throat clearing behind her stopped her dead. She turned to see the guard from outside had entered silently, and was standing menacingly over her from a few feet away. Unlike J'akkart, this one made no diplomatic attempt at hiding his hungry expression as he stared at Isabella. "This is General Barrand, your highness. One of those loyal generals I spoke of." J'akkart got to his feet, just as Isabella finished eyeing up this muscular, brutish 'general' with fresh apprehsnion. "I am sure you require time to consider my generous offer. If you decide that the lives of your people and the future of this city are more important than your own pride, present yourself at my headquarters at sunset tonight. There will be no one there but us." And with that, he swaggered out of the room without another word, his general following in his wake. Isabella remained, feeling more helpless than she had ever felt in her life. * * * It was a very tense afternoon for Belle. Normally she would spend the afternoon waiting on the Empress, or perhaps attending to various minor errands for her, but since Empress Isabella had closeted herself away and asked to be alone, there wasn't much for Belle to occupy her time with. She told herself that it was perfectly normal for the Empress to require time alone at a time like this - no doubt she had a lot to deal with at the moment. But still - even Maria had remarked upon how stony faced and tense she had looked when she had made her way back across the grand chamber after her negotiation with the barbarian king. How well could it possibly have gone? No word of what had been said at the meeting had trickled back to them, or anyone else it seemed. Not that Maria gave any impression of being concerned at all. She was soon making plans for a trip to the Fengrave Fountains across the city, with whichever boy she was giving her attention to these days. Even Elizabeth seemed momentarily caught up in this conversation. Belle couldn't offer much here - no boy had ever taken her to the Fengrave Fountains, or anywhere else for that matter. So she tried to busy herself with what few tasks needed to be done. It was amazing how little there was to do when there was a full-scale barbarian occupation to occupy the minds of people who would otherwise be more than happy to furnish her with a long list of jobs. Dusk came, and still there had been no word or announcement from above - and the barbarians were still in the city. No one was saying it but everyone knew - tonight would be the night. This would be the last night that the barbarians could be sure they would have before the army arrived. If they were going sack the city, it would be tonight. So why hadn't anybody done anything to get rid of them? Where was Isabella? While the others went to eat, Belle found she had no appetite. She found herself staring morosely out of the same balcony that Elizabeth had a few hours ago, out at the city that seemed to be bracing itself for some coming disaster under a blood red sky. No one was on the streets - no one dared - but she could sense the fear nonetheless. But wait - someone was on the streets. Almost directly below her, someone was slipping out one of the old side entrances to the palace. Didn't they know the palace was sealed off? What were they thinking? She leaned over the edge to get a better look. It was a woman, a young woman with long black hair. She was wearing a very austere set of white flowing robes, and every few paces would stop to look around her. Why did she look so familiar? No... Without her regal, decorated clothes, and without her hair tied up as it always was, Empress Isabella was almost unrecognisable, but Belle would know that face anywhere. It was her! Where was she going? Didn't she no how much danger she was putting herself in? A sudden fear gripped Belle, as she watched her beloved Empress turn the corner and disappear from view. She had to do something. No one stopped her as she raced down the halls, down to the ground floor. No one came this way - presumably why Isabella had chosen this exit to slip away. She found the same door ajar, and ran out into the warm dusk air. She knew how dangerous this was, and she knew how terrible the consequences could be if something went wrong, but she had to do this. She had a duty to keep her Empress safe... * * * The walk from the palace to the abandoned inn that J'akart had made his headquarters seemed to take an age, though in reality it can't have taken more than two minutes. Stopping to make sure she wasn't being followed probably lengthened it a little. Even now, Isabella couldn't be sure she was doing the right thing. How could she look her people in the eye after tonight - even if they knew nothing of what she had done to keep them safe, she would know. She would know that she had debased herself in a way no Empress should have to ever consider doing. Because after all, she was under no illusions as to what J'akart wanted from her. His 'night of submission' as he put it might have been his idea of a clever euphemism, but she knew these horsemen well enough to know they were only driven by lust, and other animal emotions. She would be paying for her city's salvation with her body. Isabella was no virginal wife in waiting, whatever the songs might say. While she had turned down the many offers of marriage that had poured in from the known world, she was still a woman. There had been discrete affairs with a few favoured courtiers - men she could trust, of course. Somehow she didn't think this would be very comparable. But her duty was to her people. And so here she was, walking into J'akart's headquarters to pay for her people's safety. It was very dark inside, and she didn't think anyone was there at first - until a voice spoke in the darkness. "Through here," the man said. She could just about make out his silhouette by a door behind the bar. It wasn't J'akart's voice, but the huge outline told her it was one of his men. She followed him through the door, into a large, candle-lit space with no windows. There was J'akart, sat in the middle of the room looking solemn but very pleased with himself. Gone was the Morgavian ceremonial robe - he wore only threadbare tunic now, leaving his powerful upper body unclothed. The man stood behind him, whom she recognised as the same General Barrand that had guarded J'akart earlier, wore the same, as did the unfamiliar man entering the room with her, who now took his place behind J'akart also. Other than the three horsemen, the chair, and some circular contraption at the back of the room - they were alone. Empress Enslaved Ch. 01 "Isabella," said J'akart. He did not get up as she walked into the room, tall and upright and, to all appearances, unafraid. "Empress Isabella," she replied icily. The candlelight was throwing shadows over the contours of the three men's bodies, but she could still make out the leers in their eyes. "Not tonight," J'akart said. He motioned behind him. "General Barrand, you already know," he said, as the long-haired barbarian smiled humourlessly at her, "and this is General Zoaxus," he finished. This one was slightly taller, hair braided but just as long as Barrand's. He gave a mock bow at his name. "You are ready for your submission, Isabella?" "You should know," said Isabella, managing to keep her voice firm and keep any wavering out of it, "that any deviation from our agreement - if you fail to leave peaceably, or if you breathe a word of this to anyone else - there will be severe consequences." J'akart failed to look intimidated. "You think you will escape capture - you are wrong. You will be found, and brought back to Morgavia in chains. You may think that because we are civilised that we have forgotten the old ways, but I promise you, you would beg for death before the end. Every bone in your body would be broken at the wheel, you would be emasculated, you would-" "Disrobe her," J'akart interrupted, silencing her. Barrand and Zoaxus strode toward her, grins widening. Isabella retreated in shock, arm raised. "Isabella, you have agreed to submit," J'akart reminded her, a hint of menace in his voice. Isabella's arm fell. What choice did she have? She did her utmost to ignore the lumbering generals as they surrounded her, and stared defiantly at J'akart in his wooden chair. The two men slid a strap of her robe from each shoulder, and let it fall to the ground. She made herself remain impassive and defiant as first her breasts came into view, then her smooth, flat stomach, and then her most private of places. She could feel their gaze on her exposed, naked body like a searchlight, violating the inviolate. Nevertheless, the Empress stood quite still before them all, entirely nude and refusing to conceal any part of her or otherwise act embarrassed. The humiliation flaring within her would have to be resisted, or this would go much worse for her. The generals could not hide the wonder from their faces, and even J'akart was breath-taken for a moment. They had the most powerful woman in the known world naked and vulnerable before them, and she knew all too well how alluring her body was. Though slim and toned, she very much had a woman's body. Her breasts were firm and upright, and her buttocks were rock hard. J'akart's eyes fell to her exposed labia, lightly decorated with black hair, and rose to her face again. He rose to his feet, slowly and without taking his eyes from Isabella's. She could tell that he was taller even than the two brutes standing behind her. He removed his tunic. This time it was Isabella's turn to stare, though in surprise and horror rather than admiration. The barbarian's penis was barely semi-erect, but already it was the largest she had ever seen. Thicker than her wrist, and surely nine inches long, she could not help but watch it sway as he walked slowly toward her - before realising what she must look like staring at it, and looking back at J'akart's triumphant face. He stopped when he was stood before her, and she was had to crane her neck to look up at him. He stared down at her for a moment, taking in the sight and smiling. For a moment she was aware of only the two of them - his nakedness somehow making her own nudity all the more shameful. "On your knees, Isabella," he said. So it begins, she thought miserably. She hesitated, but soon felt a hand on each shoulder push her down and forcing her painfully to her knees. She was more grateful than ever that none of her people could see her. Now she was facing the monster between J'akart's legs, which he gripped with his right hand. "What-" Isabella began to question, but she was cut off by J'akart's sudden movement. Taking advantage of her open mouth, he forced his dick into it, and down her throat. "Hhhrrmmm!" The two generals guffawed. "Do your job, Isabella," J'akart commanded. His voice seemed less silky now, almost threatening. She stopped trying to protest, did her best to disregard the furious, humiliated voice in her head, and reconciled herself to her situation. She was here, she had agreed - she would just have to do it. Almost as soon as she started working the dick with her mouth she felt it harden and swell, filling her throat and magnifying the sense of humiliation she was feeling at being made to do this - her, an Empress. Her lips slid along the shaft, trying to keep near the tip, but soon the erect penis was brushing the back of her throat, and when J'akart gave the smallest of thrusts into her, she gagged and spluttered and forced her head back. "You animal!" she growled, coughing on the floor. J'akart's erect cock was truly enormous - how had she even fit all that in her mouth in the first place? "I don't think the whore likes sucking your cock, my king," said Zoaxus with a chuckle. "Perhaps she's just eager to move on?" added Barrand. J'akart looked at them and smiled. "Bring her," he said, and turned his back on them to walk over to the back of the room. Isabella was offered the sight of J'akart's powerful buttocks in action before Barrand and Zoaxus seized her roughly by the arms and dragged her to her feet. "Let go of me!" she demanded, as the two barbarians dragged her across the room, their hands wandering over her defenceless breasts as they went. "I said unhand me you uncivilised- oh!" She had been pushed to her knees again, beside J'akart who was admiring his strange, disc shaped contraption. It was some sort of wooded disc, raised off the ground and seven feet in diameter with straps at various points. J'akart pushed it with his foot and it rotated. "Do you know what this is? I acquired it from a whorehouse in Valazea. Wonderful place." "No I don't know what it is," Isabella responded wearily. She thought she had a pretty good idea though, and she did not like what she was seeing at all. "Show her," J'akart commanded. Again the generals grabbed her, but this time they pulled her onto the circular platform on her back. They grabbed an arm each and pulled them out, and she felt straps tighten around her extended wrists. "Hey - no..." she began. Panic didn't really set until her legs were grabbed and forced up into the air, all the way back until they were parallel with the rest of her body, and strapped in place there. Submission was one thing, but now she was completely immobile, with her uncovered vagina crudely exposed and spread open. What had she agreed to? "Is this how you treat an Empress?" she hissed, trying to drown out the awful humiliation with anger. "This is how we treat whores," chuckled Zoaxus. Her eyes found J'akart's, and she opened her mouth to do what she swore she wouldn't do and plead, but before she could even find the words the disc was spinning. "Whhaa-" she gawped. The room span around her, and her head swam. As she slowed, she could see the three men had taken up positions around the disc, and eventually she came to a stop - with Zoaxus staring greedily at her from between her splayed legs. "Your pretty little cunt is mine, whore," he said, and slid his finger into her vagina. She had known this was coming, she had expected it, but the shock was still overwhelming. A stunned gasp escaped her lips as the barbarian's finger explored within her most private of places, penetrating her deeper and deeper. Zoaxus was not gentle - as soon as he was inside her he began pumping in and out, faster and faster. First one finger, then two... Isabella grit her teeth, trying to ignore the unthinkable violation she was being subjected to. She hoped she was imagining the slick wetness she could feel inside her, but soon the general's fingers were slipping in and out with ease, and eliciting a horrible wet noise as they did. How humiliating... Still, she would deny them any other reaction - she would not make a sound... * * * Belle had been staring at the exterior of the inn for five minutes now. This was definitely where the Empress had gone, she had watched her walk through the door herself, though she was none the wiser as to why. She bit her lip anxiously - what was her next move here? She was very aware of the danger she was in. Though she hadn't seen anyone on the street - Morgavian or otherwise - she knew if she stayed here long enough she would be found, and probably not by anyone friendly. She had to move, but she couldn't leave the Empress out here. She was sure Isabella knew what she was doing, but the thought of walking back to the palace knowing her Empress was out here alone was absurd. She should sneak into the inn, make sure she was alright, and then go back. But the minutes passed and still she hadn't worked up the courage to move. The street was getting darker by the second now that the Sun had set - surely any minute now someone would appear... Now - it had to be now. Summoning all her courage, she crept across the street and slipped inside the still ajar front door. She wasn't sure if she should be relieved or more worried to find the bar dark and deserted. Where had she gone? A muffled, distinctly male chuckle made her jump. It had come from behind that door. Now that she looked at it closely, there was a faint light flickering from underneath it. Ignoring the growing sense of dread and desire to run, she crept toward the door and put her ear to it. Were those voices, or was she imagining things? The door drifted open a crack, silently, as her head leant against it. Now she could see people at the far end of the room. There were three men, all stood around some sort of circular platform. With a sudden blush she realised that one of them, the tallest man with his back to the door, was naked. She had never seen a naked man before, and this one's muscular buttocks drew her eye more than she knew it should do in a situation like this. The other two were merely topless, and they were all without a doubt barbarians. One of them was doing something strange... With another barely stifled gasp she saw that there was a fourth person, a woman was on her back on the circular platform with her legs raised - she was facing away from Belle, and she had at first only seen the mop of black hair. She suddenly felt very uncomfortable - the woman seemed to be naked as well. She was breathing heavily, and while Belle was hardly knowledgeable about things such as this, she had a fairly good idea of what was happening here from the way she was breathing and the wet sounds the barbarian was making with his hands. She backed away - she did not want to be caught spying on three barbarians with whatever whore they had acquired. Clearly Isabella hadn't come this way. "Enough - turn her!" said one of the three men, probably the naked one. "Alright," chuckled the one who had been fingering the woman. "I got her nice and wet for you though!" They all laughed at that, and he spun the platform so that it turned on the spot, spinning the naked woman around with it. The woman's face came into view, flustered and red, and somehow, horribly familiar... * * * J'akart's order to spin her broke Isabella out of her reverie, and she felt Zoaxus's fingers slide out of her. She thought maybe she'd gotten the hang of going somewhere else in her mind while they had their way with her. She would show them - she was better than this. The crude comment about the wetness between her legs did sting though - she could hardly deny it, humiliating though it was. Disgusted with this ordeal she may be, but her body evidently had baser urges. She tried to keep her expression stony and fixed as she span around. "No!" came a sudden, gasped voice. It was a woman's voice. The three barbarians looked back toward the door in alarm, but Isabella was spinning too quickly to see what was happening. "Bring her," snarled J'akart. She could see the two generals hurry over to the door, but nothing more. Panic rose up inside her. If there was someone else here... "Let go of me! No! Let go!" a familiar voice cried out. Isabelle stopped spinning in time to see Zoaxus and Barrand dragging a tall, round faced girl into the room. "Annabelle!" groaned Isabella in horror. Belle looked from J'akart, to his huge erect penis, to Isabella with her splayed legs and wet thighs, and then to Isabella's face. "What are you doing here?!" She could think of nothing except that one of her servants was seeing her naked, tied up like a common whore. She struggled against her restraints desperately, abandoning all attempts to keep her cool. She had to cover up. Belle's own mind was in turmoil. Her beloved Empress, Isabella the First, was being debased by these savages. How had this happened? She couldn't look at her, not like this, not while she was in such an indecent state. What the hell was going on?? "What shall we do with her?" asked Barrand. J'akart turned to look at Belle, his erection pointing directly at her and making Belle's head swim. Did all men have that hidden between their legs? A new emotion crept over her, confusing and almost thrilling - if only for a second. "She must want to join her Empress in her submission," he said with a grin. "No! No!" Isabella cried, struggling more furiously than ever against the straps holding her down. She knew what this meant, even if Belle didn't. Her desperate struggle against her restraints elicited nothing but mild amusement from J'akart. She felt sick with helplessness. Never had she been so hyperaware of the indecency of her contorted position - her legs were spread wide open, Belle could see everything! "I forbid it! We had an agreement!" "Our agreement was that no one should see you, so I'm afraid you either agree to let us have our way with the both of you, or we have her killed here and now," J'akart replied harshly. "Wh-what?" spluttered Belle. Suddenly very afraid, she tried to bolt, but Zoaxus and Barrand were much too strong. Isabella watched her servant struggle in abject misery. Why had she come here? She could have gotten through the night's ordeal if she'd been alone, but now? This would be too awful to contemplate. Word would spread. Her humiliation would be known. But if the alternative was seeing Belle, Belle who had always been so faithful and innocent, murdered before her eyes... She nodded, and her head sank back onto the platform. With no further hesitation, Zoaxus and Barrand began tearing roughly at Belle's clothes. "No! Please, stop!" Belle wailed. This was all happening so fast and she still had no real idea as to what was happening. No man had ever seen her naked before, and now her modesty was being taken forcefully from her. Her servant's garments were torn from her body without ceremony, and she could do nothing but struggle feebly and, in the end, cover her enormous breasts with her hands. She shook timidly as the three men stared at her naked body. "M-my clothes," she wailed. A hand forced her down to her knees, and before she could gather her wits the two generals were disrobing themselves. Her eyes widened in shock at the sight of two more dicks filling her view. "Be a good whore and swallow this," said Barrand, forcing his dick into Belle's mouth. She swallowed it whole - never had she so much as seen a boy naked and now there were two big, naked, muscular men giving her their not inconsiderable manhoods. She was afraid for herself, distraught at her Empress's humiliation, thoroughly and desperately ashamed to be naked before her - but also increasingly aroused in a way she'd never had the chance to feel before. When Zoaxus ordered her to pleasure him also, she grabbed his dick with her right hand with only a little prodding - despite the protests of the sensible, rational voice within her. Isabella wasn't allowed to ignore this disgraceful scene for very long. She wasn't aware of J'akart untying her until her legs were free and falling back down, but her freedom was short lived. J'akart grabbed her by the hair and pulled her forcefully to her knees. "Look at her," he murmured softly. "Is this how all your servants are here? Cock-hungry whores?" Isabella looked at the wretched scene in silence, as waves of pity washed over her. Belle had always been so sweet, so innocent - she didn't deserve this. She was gagging on Barrand's dick, staring up at him wide-eyed, while rubbing Zoaxus's vigorously with her hand. "I'd bet they are not as cock-hungry as their whore queen though." He shoved her roughly forward, and she just about managed to put her hands out in time. Isabella felt as though she were almost watching the scene unfold from above, removed from her own body. She could feel J'akart's terrible presence behind her, knew what was about to happen, but somehow couldn't process the full horror of it. It wasn't the crudity - she'd been able to deal with that earlier - or even the physical sensation. It was the knowledge that one of her subjects was witness to it all. "Don't- oohh- OHH!" the cry escaped her completely involuntarily. J'akart's impossibly large dick was sliding into her cunt, stretching her in ways she'd never been stretched before and for a few seconds it drove all other thoughts from her. For the briefest of moments she wasn't an Empress being humiliated, she was a woman. But then she locked eyes with Belle, herself gagging on the barbarians' member, and she remembered where she was. Please don't look at me. Belle was only permitted to stare at the impossible sight of her Empress being taken from behind like this for a few dizzying seconds, before Zoaxus grabbed her by the hair and pulled her from Barrand's dick. She gasped for air, but her relief was only temporary. "Try mine," growled Zoaxus, forcing his dick into Belle's mouth. She took this fresh intrusion with less protest than before - her throat almost seemed to be getting used to this, and she was certainly gagging less. But every time she felt like she could accommodate some fresh taunt or humiliation, every time she could feel her mind giving in and allowing her body to enjoy this disgraceful treatment, she would be pushed to further depths. Just as she had resigned herself to pleasuring this uncivilised brute, the other one forced her onto her hands and knees and slapped her buttocks hard. "Look at that giant ass wobble!" Barrand crowed, before administering another. Belle blushed, and did her her best to ignore the stinging at her rear and focus on the cock in her mouth. Her hands found Zoaxus's muscular ass cheeks and gripped them, of their own accord... Isabella stared at the ground - she might have to hear the spanking and the horrible jeers, but she would not look at Belle. She could give her that much. But nothing could block out the pounding she was taking from J'akart. The thick piece of meat sliding in and out of her felt like it was spearing her in two, and it was all she could do to maintain some kind of dignity and composure against the mingled waves of pleasure and horror that every thrust sent crashing over her. His hands grabbed and kneaded her buttocks. "Look at her," ordered J'akart, quietly but firmly. He grabbed the empress's hair and pulled her head back, making her gasp in pain. She had no choice but to stare at the wretched scene before her - sweet Annabelle, gagging and spluttering on this monster's dick. A small part of her couldn't help but wish she would try and compose herself a little more though - did she really have to comply with the command so noisily with such lack of abandon? And did she really have to grab the man's buttocks like that? Empress Enslaved Ch. 01 Belle gave a sudden squeal - Barrand had forced his fingers into her virgin slit and was cackling as he explored his captive. Isabella felt a fresh wave of shame for her recent judgement - they were both in this together after all. "S-stop it!" Belle tried to say, in between Zoaxus's thrusts into her mouth. She had never explored that part of her body, not even by herself as Maria would sometimes tell her to after a few wines. She had sometimes tried to imagine what it would feel like to have a man inside her but this was like nothing she could have prepared for. It was degrading and exciting and painful and so satisfying at the same time. Every fresh penetration elicited another squeal. "I think she wants to be fucked like her queen," growled Zoaxus. Isabella could see Belle's eyes widen as his meaning became clear. "No!" Isabella bellowed. "You will leave her alone!" She knew it was no good even as she said it. It had been impossible enough exercising her authority as an imperial sovereign when she had arrived - now that she was naked on all fours, being fucked like a dog and with her naked breasts swaying in time to each of J'akart's thrusts, she doubted she was all that imposing. "Was that supposed to be an order?" asked J'akart, a rare trace of menace in his voice. "General Barrand - fuck that fat whore immediately. Show this whore queen who is in control here." Barrand nodded solemnly, and positioned his dick at the entrance to Belle's defenceless hole. "MMMMMM!" squealed Belle. For the first time in her life, a man was sliding into her. There was resistance at first - she was so tight - but Barrand was relentless. Now she was being spit-roasted, with a dick at each end of her body. Isabella's head sank in despair, much to J'akart's chagrin. "I said watch!" he spat. With no warning he pulled out of Isabella and grabbed her by the hair again. She had barely adjusted to the suddenly very empty feeling J'akart's sudden retraction had left her with when she was dragged forward by the hair, on her hands and knees, to watch her servant get fucked up close. Belle was by now barely aware of her surroundings at all. Gone was the unsettling mixture of pain and horror that had overcome her when she had been penetrated for the first time. Now she was submitting more and more to feelings she knew she shouldn't be feeling, but which were taking over nonetheless. Why had she never done this before? Barrand's hard cock was filling her in a way she'd never even known she needed to be filled, and no amount of mental protest that a lady shouldn't behave this way could make that go away. Even the fucking her mouth was taking felt different - like an imitation of the real thing that pressed almost all the same buttons. "Stand aside, General Zoaxus," J'akart ordered. Zoaxus didn't hesitate, and Belle immediately found herself with nothing in her mouth. A small part of her tried to make her retain her composure, but it was too late for that. The wails and yowls escaped her immediately. "I'm s-sorry!" she moaned deliriously to her empress. "Ohhhhhh!" She knew Isabella was seeing everything, but it made no difference. Barrand's steady, powerful pounding was all that mattered now. Isabella couldn't tear her eyes away, no matter how much she wanted to. This was so... unreal. Surely the girl wasn't about to do what Isabella thought she was about to do... "I'm sorry!" Belle's body was racing to the edge now, completely overwhelmed by the new sensation that every thrust from Barrand sent through her. Her mind was in complete disarray, now it was going blank... "Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! OH! OOHHH!" Belle's first orgasm was greeted by raucous laughter from the three men, and a moan of despair from Isabella. But Belle was aware of none of this. Her whole body convulsed, she could hear herself groaning loudly as though she were somewhere else, and her hips humped lustily against Barrand of their own accord. All that mattered right then was that her hole continued to be filled. She hadn't even know her body was capable of feeling this alive. When the fog of lust cleared after a moment, the room made itself known to her once again and a horrible, self-aware shame filled her. J'akart and Zoaxus were still jeering, and she could not bring herself to look at her empress. And still she continued to take it from behind, her sopping wet cunt offering no resistance at all to even Barrand's impressive member any more. "Feeling left out, my queen?" whispered J'akart into Isabella's ear. She refused to acknowledge he had even spoke. "I would hate for your own exquisite little royal cunt to go without attention while this fat whore gets to fill her hole. Why don't we make her earn her fucks?" With a nod to Zoaxus that she knew signalled nothing good, they each grabbed one of her legs each. "Let me go you filthy- no!" The two barbarians dragged the empress along the floor by the legs, sliding her taut buttocks along the smooth stone floor and positioning her in front of Belle, who was doing her best to ignore the thoroughly indecent sight before her. This was made much more difficult when the empress was forced to sit two feet from her, and the two men spread Isabella's legs wide open. I will not look, she told herself, I will not shame my empress by looking between her legs. "Dinner time, whore," said Zoaxus gleefully. He grabbed Belle's hair and forced her head down, between the mortified Isabella's legs. For a few seconds, even the constant pounding she was still taking receded into the background of her mind. She was inches from, and staring directly at, the vagina of Empress Isabella. She had never even dreamed of imagining Isabella like this, but even if she had she wasn't sure what she would have pictured. Not this. It seemed so... normal. A little more 'trimmed' perhaps, but otherwise just like her own. Fleshy and pink and rather wet and... ordinary. All of this flitted through her mind in a fraction of a second. Before she could even begin to process it another shove forced her face directly in contact with Isabella's pussy. "Don't!" gasped Isabella. She didn't know if she was talking to Belle or the barbarian forcing her to do this, but either way it was futile. Zoaxus kept her head in place, between her legs. She couldn't bear to look but there was nowhere else to look. "Lick your queen's cunt, whore, or we'll take you with us when we leave," ordered J'akart. The order eventually filtered its way into Belle's brain, through the desperate embarrassment of her position and the once again mounting waves of pleasure Barrand was sending through her. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, she thought. Better to focus on Isabella than these... animals. So she obeyed. She ran her tongue along the folds of her beloved Empress's vagina and tried to ignore everything else but her. The trembling embrace of Isabella's thighs was almost a comfort - beyond them was everything else in the room, but here it was just the two of them - Empress and servant. Isabella could gain no such comfort from this turn of events. Though hopelessly unskilled, Belle was still running her tongue over an extremely sensitive area, and every so often she would feel the girl's wet tongue hit her clitoris or slip inside her, and little waves of pleasure would make her gasp. She looked around the room, totally unable to hide her embarrassment, and could find nothing else to distract her from what was happening. Directly ahead of her, towering over Belle's prostrate form, Barrand was leering down at her. He might be fucking Belle animalistic fury but his eyes were all for Isabella's naked body. To either side of her stood J'akart and Zoaxus, their powerful forms hemming her in and their erect penises jutting rudely toward her. She noticed her breathing was getting heavier and tried to calm her body, but Belle would not stop. Belle herself was having immensely more difficulty calming her own body down. Losing herself in the act of pleasuring Isabella had only served to ease some of the tension in her mind and body, and now there was nothing to stop the rising surging tide of ecstasy washing over her again. She didn't want to react this way to what Barrand was doing to her, but her body had other urges, urges she'd never even known she had until these barbarians had shown her what she'd been missing. Cursing herself as she did so, she let them overcome her once again, edging closer and closer to another climax with ever lap of Isabella's warm, wet hole. The Empress looked down in horror as Belle's moans rose to a crescendo. She was loud enough to blot out the wet sloppy sounds of her vagina being smashed now, and she watched with a mixture of pity, sadness and revulsion while her servant came again. "Mmmmm!" Belle gave a muffled cry of ecstasy into Isabella's crotch. Again came the blissful mind numbing euphoria, the electric shockwaves whirling around every part of her body. She could feel her pussy gushing down her legs, but all she cared about was the orgasm taking her and the dick inside her. "General Barrand! You are good to this one," said J'akart with a grin. He sauntered over to him and slapped Belle playfully on the behind as she came down from her second orgasm, gasping and breathing heavily. He kept on walking over to the far side of the room and took a seat. "Enough. Leave her." Belle felt Barrand slide out of her like something vital being extracted from her insides. The part of her that still cared remotely about her own dignity was relieved to have the ordeal over with, but the rest of her just felt very, very empty. One consequence of this was that she seemed to suddenly realise what she'd been doing. She retreated from Isabella's crotch with a bright red face, unable to look at her. What must she think of her... "You, whore. Come here," said J'akart. Both women looked over at him, and Isabella silently cursed herself for doing so when it became apparent he meant Belle. Things were bad enough without her answering to the name 'whore.' "No, crawl," said J'akart when Belle started to get wearily to her feet. Even now Belle felt somewhat out of the moment, like she wasn't really inside her own head. She crawled toward the King with only a slight awareness of the fact the she was naked, that her thighs were covered in her own juices, that her Empress could probably see her now wide open vagina as she crawled away from her. All that mattered was obeying J'akart. "Y-yes sir," mumbled Belle, once she reached his feet. "I am a king, whore. You will address me as 'your highness.'" "Yes your highness." Isabella groaned inwardly. He is no king! she wanted to scream. Perhaps Barrand sensed the Empress's restlessness, or perhaps he just wanted a go on the royalty for a change. Either way he was quick to grab her by the arm and spin her around. "Here," he said quietly, taking a seat before her. "Suck your servant's cunt juice from my cock, whore queen." Isabella winced at the phrase, but she knew she was well past the point where resistance was feasible. So, reminding herself again why she was doing this, about what would happen to her city if she didn't, and taking solace from the fact that Belle at least wasn't watching, she leaned forward and took the general's penis in her mouth. It tasted different that before - he'd been fucking Belle for a long time, and she'd certainly left her mark on him. Belle was aware of none of this, and continued to stare down at J'akart's bare feet. She could hear something going on behind her, but the less she knew the better. "Do you know who I am, whore?" "A king," said Belle. She looked up for the first time, her eyes straying longer than was probably decent on his enormous penis. J'akart chuckled. "Very good! I suppose that is all you need to know. You're very lucky you know. A serving girl such as yourself getting a fucking meant for a queen." He did not take his eyes from her, and Belle could not meet the gaze of his leering, black eyes for very long. "Tell me whore, have you been fucked often?" "N-no your highness," she said. She was so unused to talking about herself like this, but she couldn't ignore the guilty thrill she felt at being demeaned like this. "No?" J'akart cried in mock surprise. "Come now. Just because you are a little round and your ass looks like a bowl of jelly, that is no reason to deprive your body of the men it so clearly craves. You have those wonderful big, swinging tits after all! I'm sure if you crawled around your palace with those enormous teats hanging out and begged nicely, you could find someone to fill your hole for you." Belle said nothing, and stared fixedly at the ground. The worst thing was, she now couldn't help but picture herself doing that very thing. She had never been so ashamed to be naked as she was right then. J'akart took his cheerful gaze from Belle and looked over at Isabella and his generals. "Your queen looks to be having a lot of fun. Are you as devoted to her as you should be, I wonder?" he said. Belle turned to look, dreading what she would see. Isabella was currently on all fours, being made to suck Barrand's dick quite frenziedly. He had a fistful of her long black hair in each hand so as to ensure she was doing it as rapidly and as deeply as he required. When Zoaxus saw them looking over, he slapped Isabella on the ass and grabbed one of her buttocks in each hand. "Bow before the royal anus!" he declared, laughing. Isabella winced as she felt her ass cheeks prised open by the barbarian, but her attempt to break free from Barrand and protect her modesty was futile. She had no choice but to display her anus to the whole room. Belle was just as horrified to be seeing what she was seeing. Her Empress's asshole was on public view and it was more gut-wrenching to Belle than anything that had been inflicted on her personally. "Stop it! Leave her alone!" she cried. "Again with the commands," said J'akart lazily. He got to his feet and dragged Belle to hers. "You would like my men to stop playing with lovely Isabella?" "Yes," said Belle, much more quietly. She was now face to face with J'akart - her breasts were pressed against his chest and his erection was pressing against her legs. He grinned. "Bring that whore of a queen over here," he ordered. Again, his generals did not hesitate. Barrand threw Isabella off him, and Zoazus grabbed her shoulders and pulled her backward toward J'akart and Belle. Isabella was too busy gasping for air to put up any real resistance. Belle watched with profound sadness at the sight of her Empress being dragged along the floor naked like a rag doll, and with more than a little apprehension at what was about to follow. Only when she was sprawled out before him did J'akart speak again. "You, whore - sit on her face." "W-what? No I..." spluttered Belle. J'akart seized her and forcibly positioned her so that she was stood over Isabella's face, a foot on either side of her head and staring down the length of her prostrate body. "Do it whore!" Zoaxus chipped in. "Belle... it's fine... just do as they say," said Isabella. She sounded exhausted. Belle looked down in anguish at her defeated Empress. "I'm sorry!" she squeaked, and crouched down. Isabella watched Belle's crotch descend on her with mounting apprehension, but fortunately Belle stopped before actual contact was made. "No, no - haven't you ever heard of Panjah-noh? Here, let me assist you." J'akart shoved Belle forward so that she fell onto Isabella's body, with her head once more at Isabella's vagina. "This is Panjah-noh, said J'akart, rubbing his hands together gleefully and admiring the sight of his two captives staring at each other's most private areas. "Now - lick." Isabella was once again left with no choice but to stare at something repellent. Belle's recently virgin slit was still soaking wet, agape and barely an inch from her face. Worse still, now that the girl's legs were splayed on either side of Isabella's face, her sizeable buttocks were being spread open by the position and Belle's own asshole was peering out at her. As much as she sympathised with her servant, she couldn't help but feel revulsion at being this close to her two very private holes. The thought of licking one of them was too much. Belle however was once again filled with a tremendous desire to lose herself in something and forget everything else. At the moment every fibre of her being was screaming that she was debasing herself and her Empress by displaying herself so crudely to her, and she desperately needed a distraction. Her tongue returned to Isabella's pussy, and she obeyed J'akart's command. "Good girl!" said J'akart, before turning to Isabella. "Come now, do as you are told. I might have a special surprise for the first whore who does this right..." Isabella sighed and, hating herself, tentatively pressed her tongue against Belle's warm, wet hole. The dusky, feminine sent of Belle overcame her, just as Belle was taking in the musk of her own private place. "How sweet," grunted Barrand, circling the pair of them with greedy eyes. "Perhaps this is a Morgavian custom too - they seem very good at this." "Oh yes," chortled Zoaxus, also circling them, "perhaps this is what the whore queen demands of all her servants. She demands a lick and a suck from them and then a free go on their cunt." Belle knew the only way to stay sane was to block out everything in the room that wasn't Isabella. She should just focus on Isabella and she would be alright, even if it was a part of Isabella that she had no right to see let alone touch. She redoubled her efforts, lapping at all the folds her tongue could reach. She could even silence the voice within her that was screaming about how disrespectful she was being. It was almost working too. The warm feel of Isabella's body pressed against hers was a welcome contrast to the cold brutality of the room around her, and the men's leers at her naked body. The feel of the Empress's breasts on her belly, surreal and Earth-shattering though it was, was in a strange way a reassurance that her beloved was no different from her, underneath it all. She licked faster. This was not a feeling that Isabella could share much. Belle's body was just a heavy weight on her own, and the repulsive crudity of the girl's blatant nudity in her face was, aside from an insult to them both and an unpleasant sight, a stark reminder of her own nakedness and the view she was offering of her own body. She gave Belle's pussy the bare minimum of attention needed to satisfy their tormentors that she was doing as she was told, trying with every lick to ignore the peculiarly feminine taste of that wet little hole. And why was Belle being so enthusiastic down there? Her tongue was having a real effect on the Empress's body, whether she liked it or not. More and more of her concentration was being spent on ignoring the little ripples emanating from between her legs, where Belle's inexperienced tongue was nevertheless setting off all kinds of reactions in her. "Oh," she gasped quietly, as one particularly unexpected thrust of Belle's tongue inside her took her by surprise and sent a shockwave through her. She cursed herself immediately, hoping they hadn't heard her body's betrayal. "Ohho! Looks like the serving girl knows what she's doing after all!" crowed J'akart. Isabella did not respond. "Very well, I am nothing if not a man of my word. General Zoaxus - give the whore her 'special surprise.'" Belle might have been barely aware of what was going on but Isabella was feeling the now familiar feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach. She could see very little of the room beyond the horizon that was Belle's ass, but she could make out a delighted looking Zoaxus pouring some slippery substance over his still very much erect dick. He was also advancing toward the spot where Isabella's head was peering out from between Belle's hips.