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Queen Juliette was quite pleased with herself in the days following. If the populace was wondering why they hadn’t seen their princess in a while, they were too cowed to say anything.
She loved looking down at the little slut in her oubliette. The oubliette was only three feet in diameter. Even worse, the chains made her extra helpless. Several times a day, nutritious sludge would materialize near the top of the oubliette and fall down on the captive. Juliette had made sure it would look, feel and taste like cum. She would laugh at the girl’s tears and disgust - especially since then the whore had to pull some of it off her skin and eat it, or starve. Then there was the water. Much like the cum-sludge, water would fall on her head without warning, washing her - and she would have to catch what she could in order to drink it. Every day was torment for the little slut, but she had nowhere to go. She was in shackles, and the oubliette was quite narrow. She was trapped. And that turned the sorceress queen on immensely, especially when she heard pathetic pleas for mercy issuing faintly from the oubliette at night.
Juliette banged the captain of the guard once a day, sometimes more often. She made sure to get at least three or four orgasms from him each time. She loved orgasms, and was always smugly pleased with herself for learning an enchantment to make sure she could cum easily, but cum hard each time. She loved how rough the guard captain could be, making her - a powerful sorceress - feel small and soft. But he knew that if he displeased her, she would just kill him and find someone else. She started to enjoy his company. It was nice to have someone to talk to. He was smart enough to know what would happen if he ever betrayed her confidence. So she talked to him. She talked about her long life. The sacrifices she had made for power. About how she was finally, effectively invincible. She had powerful magic. The mirror would answer all her questions, allowing her to learn about any rebellious plots anywhere in the queendom. And of course, she had all her poisons - one little scratch, and any enemy was done for. That was, if she hadn’t already poisoned the enemy’s loved ones and offered to give them the antidote in exchange for cooperation. But she was no fool. She never shared any weakness, any great secret. Or so she thought.
One day she was bored. She had one of the serving girls dance. A pretty, graceful dusky-skinned girl in scarlet dancing silks. Not pretty enough to make her feel threatened, though. The girl was a talented, energetic dancer. That helped to keep Queen Juliette diverted. So she had the girl dance, and dance, and dance.
Eventually the girl begged for mercy. “Your Majesty, please, may I stop moving? I’m exhausted.”
Juliette struggled to hide her rage. “Of course. You danced well. Come here,” she said, gesturing to a pillow on the floor near her throne. The exhausted dancing girl beamed at the honor and carefully sat down on the pillow.
That was when Juliette scratched the dancing girl’s neck with one of her talons. The one on the little finger of her right hand. The paralyzing poison took effect quickly. The girl fell over and would have hit her head on the stone floor, but what’s-his-face the guard captain caught what’s-her-name the dancing girl and gently laid her down.
“You don’t want to move? Fine! So be it. Captain, lock her arms and legs in a pillory in the courtyard. We’ll see if she still wants to not move after a day locked up.”
The guard captain bowed. “Yes, My Queen.” He carefully picked up the dancing girl and carried her to the door.
Queen Juliette eyed him, thinking about how good it felt when he carried her like that. “Captain - once you have her locked up, report to my chambers. I’m done holding audience for the day.”
“Yes, My Queen.”
She went up to her chambers and looked out the window. She saw the dancing girl’s arms and legs locked in the wooden pillory. She was shaking her head slowly, apparently just coming out of the paralysis. Juliette smirked. It was cruel, not just to lock the girl up, but in such a skimpy outfit. She couldn’t get away. She couldn’t stop anyone from touching her. Surely many at the castle would come out to look at her. Mock her. Fondle her… hmm… she pinched her nipples slowly.
“You called me, My Queen?”
“Yes, Captain. Undress me and… use me. Be rough.”
“Yes, My Queen.” He nodded and smoothly helped her remove her gown and corset. It wasn’t necessary for her to ask to be used roughly. That was his nature, and she loved it. She had learned to enjoy always having him use her hard.
“Wait, Captain - here. At the window.” She braced her hands on either side of the window. It was narrow… practically an arrow slit. And it gave her a lovely view of the dancing girl pilloried in the courtyard. Juliette wasn’t concerned that he would push her out. Not only would it be challenging to squeeze her through the narrow window, but she could just yell out a spell to ensure she would land softly. As for anyone who could see her… well, that idea gave her a strange little thrill. But who cared if anyone saw her being roughly used in the window of her chambers? It was her queendom. She could do whatever she wanted - and the pathetic peasants of her land knew better than to complain. She felt his hard shaft along her pussy lips. Then the head dipped inside slowly. She moaned. “Don’t tease me! Use me! Make me scream!”
The guard captain slowly lubricated his cock in her pussy juices. She was already wet. Seeing that hot girl dance and then be locked up and humiliated in public made her feel powerful. Made her feel horny. Then he guided himself into her rear entrance. She whimpered softly. She made sure he used her in many different ways, and in every hole, so that was nothing new. But it was still an intense feeling. An intensely pleasurable feeling - her body conditioning spells had made sure of that. She felt so deliciously full.
Once inside, the captain leaned forward, his hands on her wrists. Her arms felt so small and delicate under his brawny hands. He was such a savage, and she loved that. He pulled back and rammed forward. For an instant, her stomach lurched. She thought she might pop out the narrow window and fall to the ground. But no - her grip on the sides of the window was secure. His grip on her wrists was secure. “Harder!” she commanded. And he did give it to her hard. Slamming into her again and again, pounding her viciously as if he was taking out some perverted form of vengeance on her. “Yess! I’m getting close! More!” she panted.
He rammed into her. And again. She braced for the next impact - but it never came.
Her mind clouded with arousal, on the cusp of orgasm, she took a moment too long to understand what was happening. He pulled her wrists down - and pressed the little finger of her right hand firmly into her thigh. Her mithril poison talon punctured her delicate, flawless skin. She knew she only had a moment to move. She strained against his iron grip. It would only take a moment to claw him and ensure his death. But the well-muscled man didn’t move an inch. “Bastard,” she hissed, then started chanting a spell. One that would heat the traitor from the inside out, burning him to death over several slow minutes.
She only got the first two syllables out before her tongue stopped cooperating. She sagged in his grasp. Her body refused to obey her. The paralyzing poison had done its job. Of course, she had an antidote - but was in no shape to do anything about it. She was completely helpless in the grip of this savage male.
He was taking no chances. He pulled her back away from the window and pressed her wrists together. One of his oversized mitts held both together. With the other, he quickly pulled off each mithril talon, one at a time, and tossed the dangerous jewelry into the corner. Then he pulled something out of a pocket. It seemed to be a metal ring with straps attached. He worked it in between her teeth, keeping her mouth open. Only now did he seem to trust that she was actually paralyzed - he released her wrists and fastened the strap snugly behind her head.
“You gave away too many secrets about your power, ‘My Queen’” he said mockingly. “If you cannot speak distinctly, you can cast no spells. I just needed to wait to find out which of your claws did what… or at least, find out which paralyzed. So thank you for your demonstration today.” He roughly searched her body. He removed the necklace with the key to her stepdaughter’s shackles. He also found a padded pouch of antidotes in vials and several other keys and spell components about her person, all of which he set aside. Then he dragged her by her wrists over to the oubliette. “It’s time you got a taste of your own medicine, o Poison Witch.”
Then he started turning the winch. “Hold on, Bianca! I’ll have you out of there in a sec!” He kept glancing at Juliette, clearly not sure how long the paralyzing poison would last. When he saw her eye start twitching sweat broke out on his forehead and he turned the winch faster. “Princess! I’ve got to get those shackles on the queen as soon as possible! Hold on!”
The princess finally cleared the lip of the oubliette. Her white dress was filthy with cumstains, despite her regular involuntary surprise showers. Her hair was a tangled mess. And yet somehow she still looked stunningly beautiful.
That just made Juliette hate her even more.
The traitor grabbed the princess by the waist and moved her to stable ground. He quickly unlocked the shackles and she sagged to the floor, crying with relief. In moments he had adjusted the winch to give him more slack with the shackles and ran them over to Juliette.
Queen Juliette felt as weak as a kitten, but was slowly moving her hands behind her head. If she could unfasten this stupid gag, she could turn his bones to water and laugh as he collapsed into a puddle. If only she still had her talons, she could slice the strap!
But he was too fast. He grabbed one wrist and clasped the shackle around it. Juliette growled around the strange metal circle in her mouth and reached to give the gag strap a tug - but she was just a little too slow. He grabbed her free wrist and locked the other shackle around it, then dragged her to the hole in the floor. He shoved her out into empty space. By now, the paralyzing poison had mostly worn off. Juliette screamed incoherently around the gag and kicked her legs furiously in the empty space underneath her. It was a long way down to the bottom of the oubliette - but the shackles held her firmly suspended in the air.
The bastard reached out to Princess Cumstain and helped her to her feet. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, lifting the small woman from the floor in his bear hug. They kissed with a disgusting amount of passion. There was a reason Queen Juliette never kissed him. He was a means to an end, much like her glass phallus. There was no romance, no affection between them. Not like he was displaying now. The looks of adoration the traitor and the slut exchanged were positively sickeningly sweet.
Still holding the desperate little whore tightly, the traitor turned to Juliette with a smirk. “Time for you to be on the receiving end of the torment you devised, ‘My Queen’. I’ve listened carefully during our time together. I know the cum-slime sustenance and the falling water will happen no matter who is in the oubliette. I know the magic of the shackles will work on you as well as it did on Princess Bianca. You’ll feel all the pleasure I give to her - but will never be able to cum again. And I know how much you love your orgasms. You felt it was your right to cum multiple times a day, but my pleasure was immaterial. You deserve to never cum again.”
Juliette screamed in incoherent rage, trying to mutter insults as best she could with her jaw held open by the ring gag. The traitor laughed, then turned to the slut.
“You will be my wife,” he announced. Not asking - commanding.
Princess Footrest melted against his broad chest. “Yes!” she breathed.
“I’ll ensure you have the finest - and most revealing- dresses in all the land, because I cannot get enough of that smoking hot bod!”
“Yes!”
“You won’t have to worry your pretty little head about a thing. You’re safe now. I’ll take care of the kingdom. You will need to do nothing except look pretty… and be my pleasure doll to ravish in this bed every night.”
“Yes!”
“And from now on… you will address me as ‘My King’.”
“Yes… My King!”
“That’s a good girl.” The little tramp beamed at the praise, and the traitor looked back to Juliette. “You thought yourself invincible. Your poisonous talons are dangerous - but not if you can’t move your hands. Your magic is dangerous - but not if you can’t speak. And as for the magic mirror that tells you of all plots…” he stepped away from the skank, picked up the mirror from the floor, and set it on a table.
Juliette never did that. She liked making sure the mirror couldn’t watch her in bed. She liked looking down on the girl in the mirror even more. Towering over her reminded her of her place. Even if she did look like an exact reflection of Juliette.
Juliette’s reflection in the mirror changed. The girl was no longer shackled and gagged, although her physical features were still identical to Juliette’s. The girl in the mirror gave a shiver. “Wow! Being shackled and gagged like that is so intense! Unable to move, unable to speak… it really made me feel weak and helpless.” She winked at the traitor. “I might experiment with that in the future. But for now…” she pointed at Juliette. “I am so, so glad you’ve lost! I hate how you always made me speak in stupid rhymes!”
Juliette tried to grunt through her gag that it was tradition. If there was one thing she had learned from a hundred years of studying dark magicks, it was that style mattered. But she failed to utter a single recognizable word.
The girl in the mirror laughed. “You controlled me by threatening to cover me and leave me in a dark, empty basement forever. Pretty ironic, given what’s about to happen to you. But Captain - ah, I mean, His Majesty - actually wanted to know what I wanted.”
“Pretty simple,” the traitor said with a smug smile. “Treat her like a person. Let the naughty little voyeur watch me have sex.” Ignoring the mirror girl’s embarrassed giggle, he continued. “Talk to her, and not in rhyme. And give her an actual name. Isn’t that right… Alice?”
The girl in the mirror giggled. “Thank you, My King!” She turned her attention back to Juliette. “I told you about every plot because I was afraid of what you would do to me once they failed. But I believed His Majesty could succeed. So I didn’t tell you about my conversations with him or what he was planning. And I’m so glad I didn’t!” She curtseyed to the traitor. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”
He smiled. “You’re welcome, Alice. I get the feeling you’ll be an entertaining addition to my chambers.” The traitorous bastard traitor stepped away from the whore, back to the winch. He started to lower Juliette down into the oubliette. “Oh, and one more thing, witch-queen. You told me of how you’ve magically made yourself immortal, forever youthful…”
She tried to kick him in the crotch as she was lowered. But she felt like a limp rag, her muscles pathetically weak. She got nowhere near him.
“... that means I can keep you in your oubliette for a very, very long time.”
Juliette screamed again as she sank into the darkness.
It wasn’t long before the winch stopped. Juliette hesitated, then swung around with her legs madly. She could reach the wall of the narrow oubliette on any side. But she couldn’t quite reach the ground. The fool hadn’t lowered her all the way down! She had no support for her weight. All her weight was hanging from her arms.
Then she felt a strange sensation in her royal entrance. It was like her pussy was being penetrated. She thrashed around, panicking. For a moment she imagined a tentacle coming out of the darkness to invade her while she could not resist. But then she realized what was happening.
Those two jerks were banging!
Without her!
She felt the sensation of her hair being pulled, although nothing moved her head. It always made her dripping wet when the captain - that is, the traitor - held her down and pulled her hair. Then she felt a painful pinching sensation on her left nipple. Curse the bastard! He was using all of her favorite moves on the slut, knowing that she was feeling everything! He was pleasuring Princess Sexdoll, while the cunt in the mirror watched… and here she was, bound and gagged, down a deep hole with no way out. Set aside. Ignored. She tried to scream as loud as she could, but between the gag and the depth of the hole she knew they couldn’t hear her.
Now she felt as if something were pistoning in and out of her pussy, moving hard and fast. She tried to rock her hips into the sensation. This set her swinging and her back slammed against the wall of the oubliette. Why had she made it so small? Ah, that’s right. She wanted Princess Whorelips to be utterly miserable, all day, every day, forever.
Well, crap.
Oh, the penetration felt so good! That was one thing she could say for the traitor - he wasn’t afraid to go strong and hard. The pleasurable pounding distracted Juliette from her situation. She lost herself in the sensations, making pathetic whining noises through the metal circle in her mouth.
After a while, she could feel herself getting close. Her impending orgasm was building between her legs. Yes! Just a little more! Juliette squeezed her legs together, but still felt the repeated penetration inside her. She was just on the edge of orgasm…
…and stayed there.
She could feel the sensation of a cock sliding in and out of her, again and again. She should have been able to cum by now. She always came easily.
Oh. Right. The enchanted shackles. Why had she done such a stupid thing?
Oh yes. She wanted Princess Dress-up Doll to suffer. To know the agony of being intensely aroused without any hope of relief… forever.
Well, crap.
The sensation was absolutely maddening. Juliette was used to cumming over and over again, every day. She never had to be denied the pleasure of release! She was the queen!
Had been the queen. Now she was queen of a deep, dark hole, and it was entirely possible nobody would ever see her again.
Ugh! She just wanted to cum! She would get on her knees and look up at the traitor’s smug face and beg for it like a lowly slut! She wanted it, she needed it! She needed to cum!
She screamed into her gag again, frustration and desperation combined.
It took some time before the sensation finally stopped. Juliette hung from her shackles, helpless and frustrated. After a few moments, she heard a noise. She looked up and could see the traitor and the slut standing around the circle of light representing the top of the oubliette, so far away.
She heard the traitor calling to her. “Princess - excuse me, Queen - Bianca has something to say to you, witch-queen.”
The slut leaned forward over the opening to the oubliette. Was she saying something? It was hard to see and hear clearly from this distance.
Wait - oh no. Juliette tried to quickly tilt her head downwards, but was a fraction of a second too slow. A mixture of cum and spit landed across her face. Disgusting! Juliette shook with rage, the chains rattling. She would cast a spell to give them unending, intense itching on every inch of their bodies! But once again, every syllable of the spell was utterly incoherent. Even worse, some of the cum slipped into her mouth. She felt so utterly humiliated. Juliette sagged from the shackles despondently. Far, far overhead, her captors laughed and moved out of view.
The days, and years, that followed were hard for Juliette. She learned that when the cum shower came, she had to tilt her head back and let it fall through the open gag into her mouth. The magical substance ensured she had enough sustenance. Why did she have to make it so disgusting? She didn’t make a habit of tasting a man’s cum. She only took the traitor’s cock in her mouth that one day so she could spit his cum onto Princess Cowudders’ face. Too bad that gave them the idea to do the same to her. But now she had to taste it multiple times a day, every day. She would never have allowed men to use her like that. She didn’t service men. She didn’t give pleasure. She received it. She was worshiped! Had been worshiped.
She would suck any number of cocks now, if they would just let her out of this hellhole. Out of this deep, dark, hole. Out of the shackles that made her wrists completely useless.
The water wasn’t fun either. Without warning she would suddenly be drenched with cold water - and would have to try to catch some in her mouth before the downpour stopped, to satisfy her thirst. At least it washed off most of the cum-sludge.
Telling time was difficult. She had set up the sustenance and water to be random. It was hard to tell if the light at the top of the oubliette was from daylight or candlelight. She quickly gave up on trying to track the days. What she most looked forward to was when the traitor would grab the slut and pound her hard. At least then Juliette could feel something. Every sex act, every experiment. When he dripped hot wax on Princess Cocksocket’s tits, she felt the painful stinging on her own. No matter what hole she was used in, or whether she was spanked or groped or pinched, Juliette felt it all. She was ashamed of how good it felt.
She also dreaded every time they screwed. She knew they would both have orgasms. Sometimes she could hear the slut crying out in ecstasy, all the way from the bottom of the oubliette. But Juliette never came. She tried to rub her thighs together. She tried to grind her pussy against the smooth wall of the oubliette. She tried to think of the dirtiest fantasies she could whenever she was on the edge - but her magic spell had been too good. It had been an unbearably long time since she last had an orgasm. And she was scared she would never cum again.
Keeping a captive girl chained and desperately horny in the bottom of an oubliette had been a much sexier idea when it wasn’t happening to her.
Juliette wanted to believe that someday she would escape and wreak terrible revenge. But such thoughts kept seeming more and more distant and unreal. She constantly had perverted sexual fantasies. She blamed the boredom and the orgasm denial. Surely she would never have such twisted fantasies before. Imagining herself kissing the guard captain’s - well, the king’s - feet and begging to suck his cock. Licking his cum out of the princess - no, the queen’s - pussy. Being chained to the wall, forced to watch them have sex, much as the girl in the mirror doubtless watched them every night.
It was only because of her captivity, she told herself. She was a self respecting evil queen. She would NEVER degrade herself by being a helpless submissive sex slave for their entertainment. She would never allow herself to be kept naked and chained at the foot of their bed at night, listening to them make love. She would never dust their chambers naked, waiting for him to grab her and bend her over a table, or waiting for her to demand Juliette service her pussy instead of dusting the bookshelves. A dignified, powerful woman like her would never do anything like that.
She was lying to herself. She would degrade herself. She would do absolutely anything for an orgasm.
Oh hells! They were going again already! Juliette squeezed her thighs together desperately and twisted back and forth in frustration, rattling the chains. She was broken and desperate. Their captive sex toy deep down in the dark oubliette. And she would do anything to please them.
She just needed to cum!
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