Retirement Party
Elanor grazed her fingers along the rope impressions on her left hand. It still made her loins pulse while touching the marks that cut in too deep, the pain melding with pleasure. She stayed quiet the whole way back, not even meeting Bella's gaze. Something about it felt a bit deeper than her usual silence.
'Did she push too hard.? Didn't seem like it at the time, not in the least. But now, looking at the Queen...'
Bella dwelled in the uncertainty of it the entire night. The next morning she received a scroll from the Queen informing she was unwell. Suggesting, it'll be better if they took a day off or two. Bella knew it was well within her authority to reject the request.
'Request, huh?'
She found it odd that upon reading a direct message from the ruling monarch, and her first instinct had become to call it a 'request'.
It puzzled her deeply.
Leave Elanor, what was all this training doing to Bella? Sure, the Queen had to endure the humiliation of each task. But it's not like she could be held responsible for any of it. By the imperial contract, the Queen technically had no choice but to play into whatever Bella tasked. But it also insulated her from any responsibility, at least legally. Bellatrix, on the other hand, had all the moral culpability if anything were to go wrong. It's not that she didn't know it beforehand. She just never expected for the weight of it to grow multifold, with each new task.
And that's only half the problem. The other half was the sudden surge of pure power she felt in her blood, every time she had the Queen herself on her knees. Every time she heard her call
Mistress
, even if unwillingly or timidly. And especially, every time she got to witness the Queen blushing, realizing she had unwittingly creamed herself. She was busy with these thoughts for days on loop, tending to her herd, when she finally received the second message. She was to meet the Queen the next morning.
Finally, Bellatrix thought, walking in with a smile now on her face. A smile she didn't know she had.
An odd face for a stoic, after all.
**
*
Elanor stood in the Imperial Library hall, examining the newly commissioned mural. It depicted 'the Battle of Berg', the final stand-off between men of Wolkenshire and Noxtra the sixth. It was a painstakingly detailed representation of the hundreds of men battling it out, with the dust and blood and horses and all the rest of the chaos. And in the foreground stood the famed General of Wolkenshire, strategizing from the cliff above, all the might of the men personified in his heroic stance and fearless eyes. The royal artist stood beside her explaining, in great detail what each stroke meant, and each color symbolized.
"It still amazes me..!" The Queen said. "How do you capture with such detail, the look in his face, the shine in his armor plate, even the folds of his.." She thankfully stopped herself from completing that thought.
"Oh my Queen.. What an eye for detail you have..! We use models to study the pose, multiple male models to capture the expression, the musculature. We have the portraits of the famed general so.." He went on and on about how the masterpiece was created. But none of it fell to her ears. Her eyes were fixed on the man up front.
'Lord Stephanos Juxon, the general!'
There was something magnetic about the brush strokes, almost bringing it forth from the frame, bringing it to life, and closer. The artist had managed to capture the likeness pretty accurately, especially his famed piercing green eyes and high cheekbones. Even the minute threading of the armor plate was done to perfection. But the Queen saw none of those. Her eyes instead were fixed on the intimidating Lord's pelvis. His clothes parted around the hips, and his pants looked a bit too tight for comfort.
And as she peered into it, Elanor could almost make out the impression of his penis, something that was a personal legend about the Lord. She could make out an erection even, the way his thick bulbous mushroom head pushed against the sheath, his whole member more than semi hard now, bulging against the tight fabric of the pants. The Queen wasn't wondering about the symbolism of it. Whether the artist meant to capture his virile appetite for war, or his brave manhood, unwavering in front of the enemy. No, she didn't wonder nor cared. From the moment she noticed, she was captivated by the pelvis alone, in its entirety.
She wondered whether she should kneel down for a closer look
. 'That's one massive member..!! Much like Joaquin's from last week.'
Elanor was genuinely surprised she recalled the now-ordained celibate's name. She noticed that the cliff where the Lord stood had enough grass. Maybe she was to kneel before him on that cliff, the grass would cushion her knees. It'll help her to keep kneeling longer, taking in his magnificence. Maybe she'll get to feel his fingers circle her nape.
Will he ejaculate on to her, much like Joaquin.? Will she get to taste it proper this time?
Maybe she'll get to witness his member burst out of the thin pants. Oh! That would be wonderful..! Then, she may feel his grip tighten on her hair bun, as her wet lips close in on his erect head. And her tongue will get to..
"My Queen.!" The artist called her, woke her up essentially, from the beautiful lucid dream she was about to embark on. "Shall we move on to the next mural?" His humble voice enquired.
Elanor didn't respond. But simply walked along, the artist and her entourage quickly following. To answer his question would have given away, the fact that her throat had dried, long back. And the only wetness she felt now dripped along her under thighs.
'This is not good.'
Elanor thought. She finished the visit quickly and returned to the royal court. Bella must have reached by now.
They must talk. This can't go unchecked.
**
*
Renegotiations
"My Queen, you called for me." Bellatrix bowed formally. This was the Monarch's chamber, next to the royal court. Sure they could talk in privacy, but there were guards on vicinity. Meaning, Elanor wasn't required to call her 'Mistress'.
"Bella, please take a seat." The Queen looked disturbed. "I'll get straight to the point. Your methods continue to remain effective, surpassing all my expectations. But I'm afraid it's bleeding into my work."
"Could you elaborate a bit my Queen?" This was news to Bella. She had expected the Queen called her to apologize, for losing control of herself the last task. Not that it required an apology. But in case it aided with the shame of the situation, Bella having to witness it all.