Long Live the Queen.

	Rosalina Blumengard, Queen of Fulmen, slumped slightly on her luxurious throne, the thick velvet cushioning shifting beneath her tense body. She was a statuesque woman, buxom and beautiful, with fine features revealing her honoured bloodline. Perched atop the ebon waves of her hair, a delicate golden crown proclaimed her royalty to all before her.
	Tension had thickened the atmosphere in the grand hall, mirroring the stress that clouded Rosaina's mind. Only yesterday, there had been an attempt on her life and the culprits were going unpunished. It was only due to the diligent efforts of her loyal bodyguards that Rosalina had escaped unmarked. Even now the pair of armoured warriors, noble in body and mind, waited at her side, vigilant eyes fixed upon the crowd before them. Until the villain responsible for the plot was brought to justice, there would be precious little time for anyone to relax.
	“Bring me the Seneshal!” Rosalina announced, shattering the silence that had fallen over the richly decorated hall. Thick carpets whispered underfoot as Victoria DeMais, personal secretary to the queen herself, hurried up to the throne. Without needing to look around, Rosalina could sense her bodyguards tensing as the smaller woman approached, burdened with the heavy book that was her mark of office.
	“Your Majesty,” Victoria bowed diligently, robes rustling around her as she sank to one knee, “What can this humble servant do for you?”
	“I have received word from Astala. They claim that their trade caravans have gone unanswered for several weeks now,” Rosalina kept her voice firm, filling the high ceilinged hall with her lordly tones. “Do you have an explanation for this?”
	“Your Majesty, I can't understate my surprise,” lowering her soft, brown eyes, Victoria opened her book and flicked through the pages. Merely opening the ancient tome was enough to send the smell of rotting paper drifting through the hall. “All of our trade delegations are listed as leaving according to schedule, so...” The young woman hesitated, fiddling with the heavy glass lenses balancing on the tip of her rounded nose, “Bandit attacks, perhaps?”
	“That is not good enough!” Rosalina shouted, her composure slipping in the face of yet another burden, “I shouldn't have to restate how important relations with our neighbours are, so I want this problem – whatever it is – settled with all available haste!”
	“Yes, Your Majesty,” Victoria bowed again, closing her book with a thump that echoed through the hall. “I would ask your leave, if it pleases you.”
	“Granted,” Rosalina sighed, inwardly scolding herself for the breach of decorum, “Seneshal, I will require your presence in my private chambers tonight. There are several matters of trade to be discussed. I trust you will bring all the appropriate materials?”
	“Of course, Your Majesty,” the ghost of a smile flickered across Victoria's face as she bowed for a third time before turning to leave the hall. Sighing again, Rosalina closer her eyes and savoured the brief moment of quiet before the next issue presented itself.

	Night had fallen slowly, the sun crawling beneath the horizon with all the vigour of a man dying by degrees. Standing alone in her bedchamber, curvaceous body clad only in a fine silk robe, Rosalina lit enough candles to bask the room in a warm glow. With the duties of a sworn monarch put aside until the next day, she could finally let the tension wash out of her tight muscles.
	A firm knocking at the door sent a tingle of anticipation through the tall woman, and she hurried to allow her guest in. “Victoria,” the Queen said with a smile, her voice far softer than anything heard in the grand hall, “I've been waiting for you.”
	“I could hardly come fast enough,” the young Seneshal assured her, smoothly slipping past Rosalina and placing down her burden. Along with the leather document pouch she usually brought, Victoria had a heavy burlap sack, contents rattling as they settled. “Well then, shall we get started?”
	“Yes, by all means,” the Queen's answer was eager, the kind of unguarded honesty that she could only show to a most trusted companion. While she would rather die than give up the honour of her position, it rarely gave her a chance to indulge her sensitive side. Here, in her bedchamber with her beloved companion, she could be a woman, rather than a Queen.
	“By all means?” Victoria asked, raising a gentle eyebrow.
	“Yes Mistress,” Rosalina corrected herself, looking down at her bare, well manicured feet, “May we start, please?”
	“It would be my pleasure,” casting aside her mousey brown robe, Victoria revealed her body, the nubile flesh encased within a bustier of the finest black leather. “Now, my little queen, why don't you take a lie down?”
	“Of course Mistress,” Rosalina answered demurely, lying down on the richly decorated double bed that was the pride of her chambers. Sheets crinkled as her naked body settled down, her robe discarded the instant Victoria's order had left her mouth. The sheets were cool against Rosalina's skin, the light weave of their fabric a welcome change to the heavy robes of office she was usually expected to wear.
	Lying face down on the bed, Rosalina's only knowledge of her surroundings was the sound of Victoria pacing around, footsteps padding softly on plush carpets. Slowly, gracefully, the younger woman climbed onto the bed, her bustier creaking softly as she straddled Rosalina's back. Up close, the sweet smell of Victoria's skin easily overpowered the smell of candles and clean sheets, the heady mixture of scents stirring a deep arousal within Rosalina.
	“I don't want you thinking about armies,” Victoria whispered, the long sheet of her amber hair draping across Rosalina's shoulder as the young woman leaned down to whisper in her Queen's ear, “I don't want you thinking about our neighbours, or anything else for that matter. I want you to think about me and only me.”
	“Yes Mistress,” Rosalina sighed, the tension seeping from her body as the gentle pressure of the young woman's weight shifted above her. Victoria's hands, perfectly smooth despite the hours spent poring over mouldering tomes, began to caress her back, massaging bunches of tense muscles into a loose, pliable state.
	The warmth of the room, combined with the exquisite firmness of Victoria's touch quickly lulled Rosalina into a state of near-total relaxation, all the better to enjoy the rest of the evening's entertainment. Even the pain of a stiff muscle being eased back into compliance was pleasant, at Victoria's skilled hands.
	“I've got a special treat for you tonight,” Victoria cooed as her thumbs pushed into a stubborn muscle and rubbed the tender flesh, eliciting a low groan of satisfaction from the older woman, “But I think we should have a little fun amongst ourselves first, don't you? Another kind of massage, perhaps?”
	“Oh yes, Mistress!” Rosalina's body was crying out for the younger woman's touch, beads of liquid forming along the silken folds of her slit like morning dew on grass. Loosened by the masterful massage, Rosalina's entire body tingled as her Mistress stroked the smooth flesh of her back, nails teasing her with the daintiest of scratches. Taking the older woman's wrists, Victoria began to bind the slender limbs together.
	The rope was soft against Rosalina's sensitive skin, caressing her as Victoria weaved it into strong knots. Once her wrists were firmly bound, Victoria moved onto Rosalina's ankles, the younger woman's hands sliding down the Queen's thighs with deliberate slowness. A deeply satisfied sigh escaped the Queen as her wrists and ankles were bound together, leaving her at the mercy of her trusted lover.
	Victoria was content to take her time, teasing the Queen with slight brushes of skin against skin as the older woman's breathing grew heavier. Eventually, Victoria grew tired of teasing the bound woman and lifted her, tilting her onto her side and stroking an errant lock of hair out of her face, her fingers gentle against the Queen's face.
	“Now this won't do at all...” Victoria murmured to herself, reaching into her document bag and taking out a long strip of fabric, dyed as black as the bottom of the ocean. Rosalina offered no resistance as Victoria wrapped the fabric around her eyes, blindfolding the already helpless woman. Once she was sure that the Queen's sight was completely stolen away, Victoria allowed her hands to wander across her chest, squeezing Rosalina's magnificently full breasts and playing with the stiffened nipples.
	Rosalina shifted and moaned as Victoria caressed her chest, the sweet smell of lust permeating the air as both women grew more aroused by the mingling of flesh. Rosalina could feel herself growing slick between her legs, beads of liquid turning into drips as Victoria's nimble hands coaxed an ever-increasing lust out of her.
	As if reading her mind, one of Victoria's hands plunged between Rosalina's thighs, parting the legs ever so slightly and tracing the outline of her moistened slit with a single delicate fingertip. Rosalina's moans deepened at the sensation of Victoria's finger on her sex, her voice growing husky with the anticipation of future pleasures.
	“Do you want me to touch you?” Victoria breathed, her hushed voice blowing softly against Rosalina's ear. “I could, you know. You're so wet, my finger would slip right into you,” as if to demonstrate her point, Victoria placed her finger against the entrance to Rosalina's sex, the tender pink flesh throbbing at the slightest touch. “I wouldn't even need to push. You look hungry enough to suck me in.”
	“Please Mistress,” Rosalina's voice was soft, breathless with the pleasure of losing control, “I want you to touch me, no, I need you to touch me!” Rosalina's thighs strained against the silk rope, struggling to spread themselves wider.
	Victoria didn't reply, at least, not with words. Having coated her finger with Rosalina's ample juices, she plunged the digit into the tight warmth of the bound woman's sex, forcing a squeal of mingled surprise and pleasure out of her. Rosalina's squeal turned to gasps as Victoria curled her finger within her, stroking the velvety walls of her sex in search of her most sensitive spot. Her probing finger found a rougher patch that sent an uncontrollable shudder through Rosalina at the slightest touch, and Victoria knew that she had found what she was looking for.
	The slick muscle wall of Rosalina's sex throbbed and strained against Victoria as she slid another finger into the bound woman, stretching the Queen's sex wider until the lips were fully parted, delicate flesh flushing with blood and running with nectar. Rosalina whined as Victoria pulled the fingers out, only for her complaints to be silenced when the dominant woman pushed the slick fingers into Rosalina's mouth. The taste of salt filled Rosalina's mouth as she suckled at the fingers, scouring every trace of her sex from them.
	Blinded, Rosalina had no way of knowing what to expect next – her senses again limited to the sound of Victoria circling her. It came as a surprise then, when she felt the younger woman's cold breath against her sex, soon followed by an eagerly probing tongue that roamed her slit, chasing droplets of her sweet nectar.
	A soft creaking sound filled the room as Rosalina struggled against her bindings, the knots holding fast no matter how much she twisted or writhed. She knew that escape was impossible – Victoria was as talented with rope as she was with her fingers and tongue – but it was impossible to simply lie still while the younger woman was coaxing waves of exquisite pleasure from the deepest parts of her body.
	Ignoring the older woman's futile attempts at escape, Victoria allowed her tongue to wander, circling the bound woman's clit with slow, deliberate strokes and listening to her captive pant. Rosalina's breathing was faster now, a series of rapid shallow breaths that only grew faster as a powerful climax built within her.
	Without breaking the rhythm of her tongue against Rosalina's clit, Victoria slid her fingers back inside the Queen and began thrusting, fucking her with the slick digits. Faced with the combined assault, Rosalina was reduced to moaning wildly, all thoughts of dignity forgotten as she arched her back, shoulders heaving as convulsions overtook her body. Her slit seemed to flood with salty juices, bathing Victoria's tongue in the nectar and staining the sheets with the force of her climax.
	
	It took a long while for Rosalina's racing pulse to return to a more normal rate, a process not helped by the sensation of Victoria's body pressing against her as the younger woman shifted about on the bed. The healthy scent of Rosalina's sweat hung over the bed, a deeply sexual perfume that seemed somehow different to the sweat from any other exertion. Victoria breathed it in, savouring the odour and the lust it stoked in her.
	“You look delicious,” she purred, smiling as the blindfolded woman looked around in a futile attempt to follow her voice. Victoria bit the older woman on the underside of her breast, teeth a hair away from breaking the skin. Rosalina gasped at the sudden pain, and the pleasure it brought with it, as Victoria suckled at her flesh. When the younger woman pulled her head away, she had left a distinctive mark – a delicate pattern of broken blood vessels that stained the skin purple-black.
	“All those lovely dresses you have, all those plunging necklines,” Victoria taunted, kissing Rosalina's breasts with loving care, “It would be a shame if you couldn't wear them. Seeing a mark like this on their beloved Queen... What would the people think?” Letting Rosalina's imagination answer the question for her, Victoria sank her teeth into the bound woman's breast again, this time on the top of the heavy curve. It would take a truly scandalous dress to reveal the new mark, but Victoria was only getting started.
	“Oh, my little Queen, I wish I could just devour you!” Victoria sighed, her pleasure obvious even to the blindfolded woman, “I could just kiss you all over, but then what would happen?” Leaving the question hanging, Victoria kissed Rosalina lightly on the mouth, nipping at her quivering bottom lip with her front teeth, “You'd have to dress like a nun for a week! Wouldn't that get the people talking?”
	“Let them talk, Mistress,” Rosalina panted, the obvious risk only making her arousal the sweeter. In that moment, she wanted to flaunt herself before the court and all her subjects, letting them bask in the glory of her body whilst knowing that they would never get to touch it. The moment of madness passed quickly, but the fantasy lingered in Rosalina's mind for a while longer, kindling a new warmth in her loins.
	“I'd rather keep you all to myself,” the dominant young woman said as she untied Rosalina's blindfold, letting the fabric slip down around her neck, “Especially since I went to the trouble of getting you this,” she added, pulling a strangely shapeless piece of black leather from her bag. When she shook out the creases, Rosalina saw that it was a hood, featureless save for holes positioned for the eyes and mouth.
	“Is that my special treat, Mistress?” Rosalina asked, looking at the hood with eager eyes. With her noble features occluded by that sheath of black leather, she would be completely anonymous.
	“It's part of it,” Victoria teased, slipping the hood over Rosalina's head. The inside of the hood smelled of high quality leather, fresh from the tanner, and the suppleness of the material only reinforced the luxurious feel. It was no common item – the slits had been positioned with skilful precision, lining up with her eyes and mouth perfectly. “But there's more to come,” the younger woman said, kicking the burlap sack. Something inside clunked heavily when Victoria's foot caught it, the sound offering no clues as to the contents.
	“For now though...” Victoria dangled a thick collar in front of Rosalina, metal studs glimmering in the candlelight, “I borrowed this from the royal kennels. It seems fitting, seeing as you're as wet as a bitch in heat.” Laughing to herself, Victoria clamped the collar around Rosalina's neck, tightening it until the leather bit into her flesh ever so slightly and pinned the hood in place. Her throat constricted by the studded leather collar, Rosalina was forced to take shallow breaths that left her light headed, giddy with excitement as well as the shortness of breath.
	“You know, I've been thinking,” Victoria began as she started to untie her captive, “You've been telling me all about your little fantasies lately, so I thought I might help you with one of them,” Rosalina sat up as the ropes slithered away from her naked body, eyes wide and eager. As expected, the silk rope had left her wrist unblemished, without a single sign of chafing or irritation.
	“Now put this on,” Victoria continued, handing Rosalina a hooded robe much like her own, “We can't have you strutting about the castle in nothing but a little leather hood, now can we?”
	“Of course not, Mistress,” Rosalina replied as she pulled on the robes, hiding her naked body from sight. The hood of the robes was large, casting a deep shadow over the tight leather mask. “I'm all yours, after all.”
	“Perhaps not,” Victoria offered the cryptic comment as she donned her own robe, leather bustier vanishing beneath the bland woollen garment, “I could learn to share. Now come along!” Heaving the heavy sack over one shoulder, Victoria pulled Rosalina towards the door as a distant gong rang out. The changing of the guard, Rosalina thought as she heard the familiar noise, a perfect opportunity to slip out unnoticed.
	Once out of her private chambers, it was a simple matter of following Victoria through a winding maze of corridors, the stone flooring cold against Rosalina's bare feet. From her knowledge of the castle – an area that she was, admittedly, not completely certain about – Rosalina suspected that they were near the barracks, although this particular area looked disused. Dust and cobwebs clung to the stonework, and the air had a staleness to it that caused Rosalina's nose to crinkle in distaste.
	“In here,” Victoria's voice was hushed as she pushed a heavy wooden door open and hurried Rosalina inside. The room had the countenance of a dungeon, the walls barren and the floor decorated only with a fresh scattering of straw. Torches, recently lit by the looks of them, were mounted on the walls in an attempt to stave of the cold night. Dropping the sack with a heavy clatter, Victoria finally revealed the contents.
	It was a strange object, Victoria's mysterious surprise. A rectangular block of wood, split down the middle and joined by a metal hinge, there were three openings along its length, a smaller gap at either side of a single, wider opening. The edges of the openings had been wrapped in velvet, as if to prevent chafing, and that was enough of a clue for Rosalina's mind to light up.
	Like the stocks that her kingdom used to confine luckless thieves, the wooden block was built to fit around her neck and wrists, whilst being heavy enough to hamper any attempts at movement. Rosalina could feel herself growing wet at the thought of being locked into the device, held at the mercy of her Mistress.
	“That's right,” Victoria purred, spreading the jaws of the device wide and raising it to Rosalina's neck, “I had this made specially for you. I had to tell the carpenter that it was for captive nobility. Not much of a lie, now that I think about it.” Smirking, the young woman clasped the device around Rosalina, paralysing her wrists and forcing the Queen to her knees. A violent shiver ran through the bound noble as Victoria pulled her robe away, leaving her in nothing but the leather hood and the wooden device.
	“Now, our guests will be here shortly,” Victoria crooned, tying the blindfold around Rosalina's masked head and shrouding her vision in darkness, “A special treat for some of your well deserving subjects. They think you're a harlot with exotic tastes,” Victoria's voice was muffled by the layer of leather as she whispered in Rosalina's ear, “Don't worry, they're only going to be using your mouth,”

	Lust boiled in Rosalina's loins as she waited, blind to her surroundings, for the guests – as Victoria had called them – to arrive. The distant thump of military boots echoed through the corridor as they drew near the disused cell, their footsteps echoing the heavy pounding of Rosalina's heartbeat. Finally, there was a slow knocking at the door, followed by a creaking of hinges as Victoria opened the door.
	There was a conversation between the two “guests” and Rosalina's Mistress, but their voices were hushed and the details eluded the kneeling Queen. Their voices, however, were familiar and it wasn't long before Rosalina was certain of their identities. Sylveer and Bassoli, her loyal bodyguards. Of course, she realised with a wry smile, they were taking their reward for saving her life, and it was a reward that Rosalina offered eagerly.
	The wooden door closed with a thump as Victoria left the three of them alone, the prospect of being used by the two muscular men sending a shiver down Rosalina's spine. A silence fell over the room, broken only by the sound of footsteps as the men circled her. Rosalina could imagine their eyes crawling over every inch of her beautiful body, lustful thoughts stirring as they scrutinised her. The idea of being seen as a woman, sensual and feminine, brought a warm flush to her skin and a damp sheen to her slit.
	“The Seneshal said she had exotic tastes, but...” Sylveer's musical voice cut through the leather mask to caress Rosalina's ears. She could picture him, his body as pale and perfect as a marble statue, and imagined a lusty flush spreading across his skin. For as long as she had known him, the white haired man had been unflappable, watching over with detached serenity. The idea of him becoming flustered, composure demolished by the arousal she stirred in him, was a delicious one.
	“I know, but...” Bassoli's deep voice rumbled out, like a mountain that had been taught to talk. The comparison was an apt one – with his chiselled muscles and broad shoulders, Bassoli was as unyielding as any mountain. Far more likely to indulge his passions than his fellow guard, Bassoli was already stroking Rosalina's leather-clad face. “She's a pretty one. You got a name, harlot?”
	The question took Rosalina by surprise, “Rosie,” she answered, pitching her voice low and seductive. Compared to the fire and fury of her public appearances, she seemed to be a completely different person. Certainly, her bodyguards had shown no sign of recognising her, even as she knelt before them.
	A metallic clatter rang out as a belt buckle struck the stone floor. A musky smell – the distinctive scent of male arousal – reached Rosalina's sensitive nose, her mouth growing dry with a sudden excitement. Her left hand was filled with warmth as Bassoli pushed his stiffened shaft into her grip. Eagerness practically overwhelmed her as she seized the throbbing member, her wrist straining against the velvet lined shackle as she stroked it. His cock was larger than she had imagined, skin stretched tight against the hot pillar of muscle as it grew wet in her hand, liquid seeping from the tip.
	“What's the matter Princess? Afraid to get your cock out with another man in the room?” Bassoli jeered as Rosalina explored his erection, searing as many details as possible into her memory. She pictured his face, scarred and rough-hewn, in her mind, wondering what he looked when aroused. Would it soften his features, she wondered, or would the hunger for flesh twist them into a cruel mask?
	“I didn't want to embarrass you, that's all,” Sylveer shot back, an undercurrent of amusement in his smooth voice that was punctuated by the sound of a second belt sliding free. The second cock, placed into the welcoming palm of her right hand, was long and thin compared with the bludgeoning mass of Bassoli's member. Sliding her hand to the base of the shaft, Rosalina felt a rough bush of pubic hair tickle her. It was a wild, untamed patch of hair, shockingly uncouth compared with the rest of the beautifully groomed man. A giggle slipped from Rosalina's lips – she would never be able to look at Sylveer without thinking about that patch of hair again.
	“See that, Princess? She's laughing!” a deep snort of laughter came from Bassoli, “Probably the smallest she's ever seen!”
	“Oh yeah?” a rough hand seized Rosalina's head, twisting her around. The musky smell grew stronger as Sylveer thrust his cock into her face, the moistened tip brushing against her lips. Reaching out with her tongue to lick the member, Rosalina began to coat it in her saliva, taking the wet shaft into her mouth with obvious relish. “She doesn't seem to have any complaints,” Sylveer laughed, a rough note to his voice that Rosalina had never heard before.
	The salty taste of precum filled Rosalina's mouth as Sylveer thrust his shaft in and out of her mouth. The tangled bush of his pubic hair tickled her upper lip as he buried his cock up to the hilt in her throat. Stroking Bassoli's cock with her other hand, Rosalina pulled her head back, tongue flicking around the tip of Sylveer's penis. Dimly, she was aware of the liquid dripping from her slit, dampening the straw beneath her, but it seemed distant, unimportant.
	“Let me show you how it's done,” Bassoli grunted, grabbing Rosalina's head away from the pale man and pushing his own cock into her mouth. Rosalina giggled – at least, she tried to – as the two men fought over here. The heat of their desire was delicious, their passions brought to a head by the beautiful woman before them. As she stroked Sylveer's shaft, Rosalina realised how much power she held over the men.
	True, she was bound and blindfolded, forced to her knees by the weight of the cumbersome wooden block around her neck. Any time they wanted, the men could overpower her and take her in whichever entrance they wanted, but they were holding back, respecting her boundaries. When she took one of them in her mouth she had the man under control, bound by a leash of pleasure. There was a power in submission, more subtle than the cudgel of dominance but just as powerful. The revelation seemed to unburden something within her, the last lingering remnants of tension washing away.
	With redoubled enthusiasm Rosalina teased Bassoli with her tongue, sliding the wet slip of muscle down his shaft with slow, sensual motions. A dull throb in her loins began to warm her from within, languid pleasure flowing through her as she serviced the pair of men. The two of them exchanged well-meaning insults, jibes and jokes at each others expense as she took turns using her mouth on them, stroking the other with her hand.
	“She's a real pro alright,” Bassoli breathed, hips swaying in time with the rhythm of Rosalina's head bobbing against his crotch, “Where'd the Seneshal say she found her?”
	“She had a place in court, I believe,” Sylveer replied, “A courtesan of some kind. We'll probably see her at some point, hanging off the arm of some fat merchant or visiting dignitary.”
	Rosalina wanted to reassure them that she would definitely see them again, just not in the way they expected, but held her tongue. It wasn't a matter of trust – her bodyguards would die before divulging her secrets – but the idea of them never learning the identity of their shared lover was delightfully wicked, sending an illicit thrill down her spine.
	Sensing urgency in the throbbing veins that pulsed along his shaft, Rosalina wrapped her lips around Sylveer's manhood, finally coaxing a groan from the stoic man as the warm wetness of her mouth enveloped him. His grip firm against the leather of her hood, the man moved her faster, sliding his slick erection in and out of her mouth with mounting speed until his thrust reached their peak.
	Rosalina didn't give the man a chance to pull away, locking her lips around the twitching shaft and milking it with her tongue. Sylveer orgasmed with a hiss of breath rushing through clenched teeth, each spasm shooting out a thick rope of seed into Rosalina's mouth. It tasted strong, powerfully salty and somehow vivid, as if she had taken part of his vital force into herself along with the mouthful of come.
	She swallowed gratefully, eyes closed into satisfied slits behind her blindfold. Sylveer's taste seemed to linger in her mouth, as though her body was holding onto him for as long as possible. Gradually, the flavour faded away, dying completely when the pale guard slid his spent cock from her mouth.
	“Ahem...” Sylveer cleared his throat, a faint shuffling noise coming from beneath Rosalina as he shifted his weight from one foot to another, “Thank you for the... service. It was most satisfying.” Rosalina was amazed to hear his voice – normally so smooth and certain – falter slightly. It seemed that the pale haired man wasn't quite so unflappable as he made himself out to be.
	“A real ladies man, that one!” Bassoli boomed, laughing deeply at the other guard's awkwardness. His laughed turned into a yelp as Rosalina gave his cock a playful squeeze, causing Sylveer to laugh instead. “You've got some spirit, girl,” he growled, stroking her leather-clad face with a clumsy yet affectionate paw.
	If she wasn't in bondage, Rosalina thought as she began to massage Bassoli's rigid shaft, she could hold him in both of her hands, weighing his testicles as she tugged at him, even sucking at the tip of his penis while she was at it. To focus all her energy on worshipping a single man would be divine, and for the first time in the entire encounter she began to curse the wooden shackle around her neck.
	Just as Bassoli's climax approached he pulled his member from Rosalina's mouth, a trail of saliva following it halfway before drooping down onto her chin. When she felt the warm weight of the shaft being placed in her hand, the bound Queen realised Bassoli's intention. She gripped the member, stroking it with long sensual motions as he grew closer to climax.
	The sound of his heavy breathing seemed to fill the cold stone room as the broad shouldered man shuddered with the force of his climax. His cock jumped in Rosalina's hand as a drizzle of seed landed on her bare chest, shockingly hot against her sensitive skin. The liquid trickled down her heaving chest, leaving long painted trails down her full breasts. Coaxing the last few drops of seed from his cock with her skilled hand, Rosalina let Bassoli go.
	“Next time you're looking for company,” the man sighed, voice ripe with lazy pleasure, “Look me up. I'm an important man, you know. The name's-”
	“I know your name,” Rosalina looked around as best as she was able, following the deep rumble of the man's voice, “Ser Bassoli, is it not? You have a great many admirers, many of them secret.” It was a risk, teasing the man like this, but Rosalina could hardly resist.
	“Of course I do!” he boasted, although there was a note of surprise in his voice. There was a rustling sound as he pulled his trousers back up. The next time he spoke, his voice was more distant, as though he was standing in the doorway, ready to leave. “I'll be seeing you around, girl,” the lascivious voice called out, before the sound of the door opening and closing cut it off.
	“I'm sure you will,” Rosalina whispered to herself as the padding sound of Victoria's footsteps grew near. The young woman must have slipped in as Bassoli was leaving, unless she had returned to the room while Rosalina's attention was focussed on her guards. The blindfold was the first thing to come off as Victoria began to free the bound woman, the torchlight bringing tears to Rosalina's eyes.
	“You seem to have enjoyed yourself,” Victoria teased, unlocking the wooden shackle and slipping it off Rosalina's neck. Only when the device was removed did Rosalina realise how stiff her shoulder muscles had grown, tense flesh aching for another of Victoria's massages.
	“It was delightful,” Rosalina purred, somehow sensing that the time for respectful titles had passed, “I really can't thank you enough.”
	“I am your loyal Seneshal,” a note of amused humility coloured Victoria's voice as her nimble fingers unbuckled the collar and pulled it free, allowing Rosalina to breath freely, “Is it not my duty to organise these things?”
	“There's duty, and then there's...” a pleasurable shudder ran through Rosalina's naked body as she thought about her experiences, “This was above and beyond the call of duty.”
	“I am your loyal Seneshal,” Victoria repeated, slipping the leather hood off Rosalina's head and helping her to her feet, “I ordered water to be heated for a bath. It should be ready for when you return.”
	“Victoria?” the young Seneshal turned, waiting for Rosalina to continue, “Thank you.” The sincerity in Rosalina's voice brought a warm smile to Victoria's face, both woman sharing an appreciation for the other.
	“Now put some clothes on!” Victoria ordered, holding the bland brown robe out to the Queen, “You wouldn't want to catch a cold, would you?”
	“Of course not,” Rosalina said, her fingers brushing against Victoria's as she took the robe from her. The touch lingered for a moment, both woman unwilling to break the tiny instant of contact with one another. Finally, Rosalina's hand dropped away so that she could dress and return to her chambers. In the morning she would be a Queen again, with all the duties that entailed.