Queendom 12 Absolvement

Author's note:

This is an incomplete draft of the story. I'll update in a week or so, with a much better edit, but the story-beats will remain largely the same. So go ahead if you are too eager.

Story so far:

Queen Elanor of Wolkenshire, the Great Chaste, is having a hard time keeping a level head, navigating the daily politics and policies of her court, while mourning the unexpected demise of her true love, King Barthomius. Advised by the High Priest, she employs Bellatrix of Agrafena, a promising horse trainer. Bellatrix correctly identifies the key to the royal dilemma, but it involves manipulating the Queen's bodily cravings, primarily the sexual kind.

To avoid suspicion, Bellatrix is given the official title of 'Head of Households', a powerful position in its own right. Bella starts treating the 'condition' in secrecy, without violating the Queen's chastity, nor risking her anonymity. But the sheer sexual nature of the tasks waking up her inner dormant cravings, an untameable beast of true deviancy, was something no one expected.

Like any relationship, ironing out the kinks can be tedious. After a brief hiatus, the two resume treatment, with Bella making additional changes to the contract. For various reasons, Bella appoints four random servants as 'Handlers' to aid in further training of the Queen. The Handlers think they are training a Royal body-double.

One of the Handlers, Sentryman Hoyt, forces Elanor out on a task, by putting her amongst the convicts meant for public flogging. But it backfires when Elanor begins taking the punishment seriosly, confessing to all her actual sins, asking for 'Absolvement', an old ordeal which hadn't been practiced in a long while.

***

**

*

How hard could it be?

IIIII. X. III. O

Five. Cross. Three. Done.

Take fifteen lashes, and consider the task done. Simple.

How hard could it possibly be to decipher?

And how did she interpret it so horribly, as to ask for more? What the hell went down this evening?!

Hoyt sunk his skull into his hands, fingers gripping his hair frustrated at his predicament, as the door swung open. Startled, he stood up and bowed, as the Head of Households walked in, their second meeting that night.

"Lady Agrafena, how is she?"

"You tell me Hoyt, after you put her in such peril.. How dare you..?!"

Her blazing eyes bore into his soul, but it was nothing compared to the earlier explosion, when he had informed her of what happened. Bellatrix controlled herself. The instruction from her Queen was clear.

Not too harsh. It wasn't his fault.

How could she say that, after all that has been..

Huh!

"Speak!"

Hoyt had no doubts about how deep a hole he had dug himself, but he feared this may be the last chance to make his case.

"I found her at the rooftop, in a state of lewdness, something that the Royal likeness should never be in. I couldn't think up any rational reason fro her to be in such a state, other than her perversity seeking an outlet."

"Context, Hoyt! Since you so lacked the imagination, didn't you feel like asking? Waiting for me perhaps?!"

"She did explain, but.. Honestly it sounded more like an absurd excuse to indulge in her deviancies. And then there was the.."

Hoyt stopped himself from saying the rest. What was he to argue with anyhow. That he found a plug up her ass?! That he made her crawl down out to the open, risking the discovery of Royal likeness himself?!

Shit. What was I thinking?!

Thankfully Bellatrix cut him off.

"Shouldn't you be with the Imperial Convoy? What bloody brought you to Hillsdale, Sentry-man?!"

"Here, Lady Agrafena. Revised plans from Fort Wilburr.."

Through stammers and shivers, he managed to explain, all about General Radislov's order, his trip to Templeton, and learning about Bella staying here on his way back. Putting aside the scroll, Bellatrix asked.

"And the activities from earlier.. The general's orders again, or was that your initiation?!"

"Lady Agrafena, please. Forgive me.."

Dropping to his knees, Hoyt begged. Bellatrix hadn't felt such murderous rage in a long while.

"A royal decoy is Imperial property. Do you know what's the punishment for vandalizing royal possession?"

He looked up, his lips pleading silently, eyes brimming with morbid fear. Bella continued.

"If it were up to me, you wouldn't make it to the morning, but.. The girl insists it wasn't your fault, so.. We'll decide on it when she's back to her senses. On your feet!"

Hoyt stood up, relieved and baffled. He had expected he decoy to put it all on him, she held all the cards after all. As he thanked the Head of Households, she nodded and said.

"You'll leave this instant. Take the General's scroll to the Royal Records Keeper. Tell him to file it under 'advisement'. And Hoyt.."

Her right palm extended expectedly.

"I'm afraid you've lost the privilege. The ring, please."

That was only proper. 'The Cross of Absheil' was a bad fit on my finger anyhow. Too much power for my temperament

. Hoyt removed the ring, respectfully placed it on her palm, and stepped away. As he was about to bow farewell, suddenly it came to him. The sentryman felt like slapping himself, for forgetting something so crucial.

"Lady Agrafena.. I fear there is a problem."

"What problem?"

Wanting to head back to her Queen, Bellatrix asked dismissively. Hoyt hesitated, wondering how to tell, for the implications were..

"Hoyt, what now?"

"There's someone.."

"Someone?!"

***

**

*

Absolvement

- Earlier that afternoon -

Crack! Crack! Crack!

"Don't stop counting, Number Nine! Or shall I say, Eleneur.."

"e'even, twe've, thirtee..nhh.."

The remaining women in the crowd kept grimacing as if synchronized. As did the kneeling convicts, while the intimidating presence in the animal mask, the State Castigator, took a pause from the flogging and nodded at Labiet, the novice cleric.

CRACK!

"Fif.. Fot'teen.."

Wincing, more irritated by the sweat dribbling down her eyelids, Elanor was still recovering from what she had admitted to a civilian in public. The short humiliating back and forth echoed on her ears, and for the first time in her life, she began questioning the old adage, truth will set you free. Simple, straightforward questions, which she responded with brutal honesty. She kept counting, visibly unnerved by the chaos of lust and disbelief in the eyes of her current witness, an over-dressed obese vendor, with his pudgy hairy fingers, holding her skull in place for the rest to see. The questions from the Whipper. From the witness, and the taunting remarks from the men below, all kept twirling in her troubled mind.

Tell us convict! Have you ever committed royal blasphemy?

I.. I need to think..

What? You expect us to wait all day?!

No.. I'm just..

CRAAACK...!!!

Aaaaaarrrgghh..

Remember convict, and answer clearly. Did you..?

I.. I think I..

Did you commit royal blasphemy??

I DID! I did, yes..

Oh..! That wasn't so hard.

Confess then!

She remembered the wicked lust brimming in his eyes, as his breath hit her right cheek. She remembered the confession she made, as per ritual to the Witness. Her mind peering through all that she did for months now, all that could be construed as 'royal blasphemy'. The obvious choice was the night at the Brestfield manor, the Order of Swords' party. There were no shortage of royal blasphemy she had witnessed, permitted, and engaged in that single night. Though most of weren't strictly criminal, as the Absolvement rules are concerned more on moral failings than legal ones, the playing field was wide. At the same time, she knew she must maintain a certain vagueness to her description. Not only because it is her ordeal, and not others, but also, it was an espionage mission as well. She nearly confessed finding the Queen's Crown in a urinal, but she knew it risked further questions and rumors. Finally she did say.

Hear my sins, and be merciful, I pray to you. Last month I had participated in.. in an orgy. I ended up pleasuring dozens of men with my flesh. With my mouth.. My throat to be precise. What made it royal blasphemy was the costume I was wearing. I wasn't forced, I did so on my own volition, and hereby bears the consequences alone. My costume had multiple royal insignia, including a royal crown. They abused my face in ways no civilized man should, and I.. I encouraged them to go harder, knowing well I was helping desecrate the royal symbols.

I am part sin. I deserve what's rightful. I demand it be paid in pain.

Elanor remembered the depth of shame that engulfed her, as the Witness' glare, scrutinizing her in equal parts disgust and lust. The shame of fantasizing, engaging in, even re-living the events paled in comparison to what she felt, vocalizing the same out in public. It's one thing to simply live out, like a thoughtless creature, a pretend-victim to instinctual urges. One could simply blame the needs of the body when embodying. Very little conscious thought occurs after all, in the thick of the heat, but now.. To declare as she did, in front of such, with no sexual pretext. To be seen, for what you once was, in a moment of desperation. Thankfully she had to tell it, only to the Witness, but she knew he'll have no trouble telling the rest. Perhaps a spicier version, with his own twists.

Even as she told, that lack of disbelief in his eyes was the most disturbing. Like he could tell, that she was a true-borne slut. The intense shame didn't overwhelm her senses to numbness, but just clung onto her in a persistent irritation, like a million worms crawling all over. It made her feel like filth. The sunlight amplifying that itch. And she couldn't just shake it off.

CRRAACK..!!

"Twent'..Twen..té.."

The Queen felt her restraints released, someone pulled her up, towards the barrel of water. Her head plunged into the cold, followed by a fresh coat of blue being smeared onto her face. Labiet cleared his throat, and the guard tightened his grip holding the convict by her hair, trying to imitate the natural menacing manliness the Whipper exuded so effortlessly. She only heard the last bit of his pronouncement.

"Do you feel absolved?"

In other words, have you had enough.

Elanor looked up, and spoke, finding her mouth nearly dry.

"No..hh.."

Labiet leaned up closer bewildered, as he heard a slight chuckle from underneath the Whipper's mask.

Seriously, what's up with this broad?

"Of course not. Okay, let's check the odds then.. Witness, you are excused."

The hairy obese man slowly stepped down, after giving her one last dirty grin. As Labiet took the dice, and began rolling the purple parchment, Elanor recalled what she had learned so far. So much of her misconceptions had fallen away within the first few minutes. Apparently there last official absolvement ritual was so controversial that they had to update the rules, as well as heavily restricting it in general.

The first step is Accusation. The Whipper or his aid, Labiet in this case, will roll dice to rule out her sins. Two pairs of four-sided oblong dice, rolled simultaneously, using a long purple colored scroll. Representing both moral and carnal sins. Elanor's first impression was the numbers on the dice corresponded to the Cardinal Sins as described in the Holy Writ. She remembered reading upon the Moral Sins- like blasphemy, heresy, usury, perjury and idolatry. She had also read about the Carnal Sins- like adultery, fornication, sodomy, incest, rape.. The first assumption was in the ballpark, but for the second, she likely confused crimes with sins.

The detailed category of sins which the Whipper used in the ritual has eight primary divisions each, for moral and carnal sins, with further subdivisions totaling at fifty four. He didn't just use the dice numbers, but a multitude of factors, like the direction of the pieces, recurrence of the pattern, and the relative placement of each dice and so on, to zero in on a specific sin. He will then make the Accusation, as in declare loudly what the heavens are accusing her of.

Then the Whipper will call upon a random person from the crowd, to function as the 'Witness'. As per the ritual, Whipper's role is to simply administer the deserved punishment. But before that, the convict is expected to confess to the All-father. Witness represents the vessel through which the Almighty hears the confession. In the original ritual, the collective consciousness of the crowd used to be the 'Witness', as in the convicts were expected to confess out loud to the whole audience without any filter. But the new rules dictated that the 'Witness' could be just a random individual. Each new roll of the dice, each new sin, called for a new Witness.

"Two-one. And Four-one."

Labiet read out the dice, as the Whipper got down to his haunches, and took a closer look. Divining the pattern from the angle of the pieces.

"Devolvement. Two-one, angled to east, that's abnormal devolvement. And the way two-one lay, one over the other.. That denotes self-harm, more like self-infliction. Volitional devolvement. That would be the Accusation. WITNESS!!"

Whipper yelled, pointing at a random person in the third row. Guards walked up at the same time, and released Elanor's restraints. Each new sin asked for new punishment, hence a new bondage posture. This was her fifth consecutive sin, so the Queen was pretty used to the routine. She really appreciated the minimal accessories they made her wear at the very beginning.

Semi-cushioned leather cuffs, real thick ones at least two-inches in width. These were older ankle and wrist cuffs, which used laces to secure tightly, instead of the buckle-straps like the new models that Ishikawa had used once. It was uniquely versatile, as in, one may loosen the laces and slide it up her shin, or forearm, turning it into an elbow/knee cuffs. Which meant the Whipper can get her into drastically different bondage, without wasting time on complex shibari knots. Each cuff had pre-build D-rings, which can be either connected to each other, or roped to various hooks pre-installed on the door-like frame.

In no time the Queen was bounded in a new position. She was starting to get the pattern, that unlike the punishments, the same bondage was used for two or three rounds of punishment, probably to save time. Even then, she was thoroughly impressed with how quick and effortlessly the Whipper roped her in, that too in such difficult postures.

From the front she was quite an eye-full, looking like an illiterate's attempt at scribing 'K', or 'h', depending on how the left arm flexed. She was made to stand right inside the 'door frame', a little to the right. Her left ankle cuff had been slid up to the knee joint, a rope hooking through one of it's D-rings, pulling up her knee. Her left elbow-cuff too was linked to the same ring, leaving both the forearm and shin dangle down helplessly. Her right hand was roped too, through the wrist-cuff, pulled straight up by the same rope that was attached to her other knee. The ropes went through hooks on the door-frame, such that her own hand was pulling her knee up so obscenely. And the way her prison-robe hiked up, it sure gave a treat to the men directly below.

On the positive side, the posture made sure that her frilly shafka was not at risk of slipping off, though she could sense it sliding over her right hip bone. She did a good job balancing on the other foot, and at times stood tip-toed, to reduce the load on her wrist. Then again it was far easier to ignore the discomfort, when overwhelmed with shame at what she must confess to, next.

The Witness walked up thrilled, and wasted no time.

"Tell me, Elenuer. Did you engage in Violation devulsh...

Devolution?!

"

"Volitional Devolvement!"

Labiet corrected, surprised that the illiterate managed that much. The Whipper had already stepped away to choose the tools, as the Witness said.

"Yes, that.

Volishen Divulshment

.. That one! Did you?!"

Elanor had to ask herself the same.

Did I?

Volitional is simple. Everything she did was out of necessity, but by volition as well.

Well, most things

. The devolvement aspect is tricky. The term is often mistaken with devolution, considering how common it is for a person, to devolve into a lesser being, especially when intoxicated. Devolvement is when you give power, especially power over you, to someone who is under you in the normal hierarchy of things.

It involves forfeiting one's agency as well, to a certain extend. So anything from Handlers, to Ishikawa.. even Mistress Bella would count.

God, I have to be careful.

The Queen felt like she's about to blurt out everything at once.

Pick your moment, Nora. Admit to what most fits the bill. Because, with Handlers and Bella, you had a hard out. You could always say no, sometimes even mid-way. When was even that not an option? When were you, in true devolvement?

"Aaaarrghh..!!"

The Queen jumped to her toes, feeling the sharp pain. The Witness grinning, as he yanked her left nipple, as the crowd cheered.

"I asked a question, bitch!"

"Keep your hands off, mister. If the Whipper needs help, he'll say."

Even Labiet was surprised by the hint of menace in his own voice, as the Witness let go.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought we were to..

punish her..?!

"

"You stick to the confession, I'll roll the dice, and Sir Castigator will do the punishing. Let's not play dumb, and keep to our roles, shall we?"

"Yes!"

Elanor yelled out, clearly irritated.

"What?!"

Both the men was surprised. The Witness had a vague sense of the accusation, but Labiet knowing well what it meant, was truly baffled. Even prostitutes wouldn't fuck someone beneath them, let alone give control over them, that too willingly. Did she even understand the Accusation?

"Get on with it."

The Whipper roared from the other side, finally happy having found the perfect tool. As Labiet stepped back, the Witness asked, with hands in his pockets.

"

did..

Did you engage in.."

"I said, YES."

"Oh, then.. Confess."

**

*

That dumb young thing..

Lyanda kept staring at the small boat sliding across the still water. It had looked much larger when she had first slouched down by the banks. Her wimple laid right next, sprawled on the grass. Wind felt nice against her hair-curls. Wind had a way of taking the pains away, but she was a bit too close perhaps, for the cure-all to take effect.

That poor little lass.. Did I drove her to such a state? Scare her so much, that she blurted out for absolvement.. What did she think it meant? Was she even aware? Or did someone play a cruel trick on her, like they did me?!

The Young Abbess couldn't tell. She was aware of her own sadistic side, especially against the ones who seemed to care so little about their sins, and yes.. The convict being called Elanor might have clouded her judgement, for the last encounter with the widow-queen had truly left her enraged.

But to allow an 'Absolvement', under my watch..?!

Her breathing quickened, much like her anger. The Abbess didn't feel like heading back to Church. Something about her current state felt impure. She strolled the streets for a while, and found herself by the lakeside eventually. She remembered never having swum in over a decade, if not more.