The Inquisitor

From within the great clock tower, the bells tolled the hour, and the princess felt again the familiar pang betwixt her thighs. It seemed an age to her since her own chimes had sounded, since she'd last pleasured herself while they sounded.

She discovered she somehow missed them. In fact, she very nearly longed to hear them, if only to know she'd be under his eye as her fingers played.

As the last toll died away, a new sound reached their ears. Bootheels; quick-paced, clok-clok-clok-clip on the stone steps up to the battlement. As they rose, a flush-faced servant came bounding up to them.

All at once, his demeanor of subservience slipped from his face, replaced by the most horrific face of war. From his robes, he drew a long and merciless dagger. Before anyone could react, he was on them.

With tearing sounds and sunlight flashing upon the blade, he plunged the knife into the Queen again and again. Only after about three of four strikes, did he notice that the Queen seemed unfazed.

Puzzled, he looked from his blade to the wounds and back again, staggering a step back.

Where his blade had struck the Queen were large gashes in her beautiful gown, but no fount of blood flowed beneath. The skin showing through the tears was smooth and clean. As he stared open-mouthed at his blade, he could see it had dulled and bent at strange angles. He looked from the blade to the Queen, her face calm and serene. He began to stammer and shrink from her.

Just as quickly as the attack had come, the Queen seized the attacker by the throat. With no effort at all, she lifted him high off his feet, which dangled and kicked, suspended above the stone. Gurgling sounds escaped his lips.

The Queen drew his face very close to hers. "Fool," she hissed. "You have ruined my lovely gown!"

The man's eyes grew wide with terror as the air about them crackled and hummed. "Did you think your puny weapon could harm me!" She laughed the evilest of laughs as all around the world became still.

"T...T...tyrant!" gasped the man, gathering a huge wad of saliva. With a great sputter, he spat upon the face of the Queen.

A great cry of rage, a crunch, a tearing sound, and the attacker flew across the battlement, striking a stanchion with a sickening snap. His lifeless form slumped down it, as if he were reclining against it, but his limbs lay at odd angles. His head and neck seemed terribly distorted, and his neck twisted sharply, the wrong way. Half of his face was slumped and askew, and dead blood seeped from a ragged tear at his throat.

During all these events, which passed in but a heartbeat, the princess had stood dumfounded. It seemed to have lasted an eternity, but in truth, only the barest moments had passed. She looked from the dead man to the Queen, who once again stood regal and serene, a dainty handkerchief dabbing at her face. Only her eyes shone with a brightness the princess found incredibly frightening.

Shouts of alarm, guards running up the stone stairs, cries of murder sounded all around.

From the direction of the golden tower, the princess recognized the man she'd met in the library, running toward them at top speed.

"Ah, the young prince..." began the Queen, as if to introduce them.

"We've.... met... my mother..." snapped Tarquinne, his breath fast from running, his eyes meeting those of the stunned princess.

"Mother, are you all right!" he asked, urgently.

Young prince! thought the princess. She was totally taken aback, having no idea he was any more than an ordinary nobleman or courtier, much less that he was, in fact, son of the Queen.

"Ah, yes, my boy." The Queen said sweetly.

"A moment please, my dear.." She said to the princess, moving some distance away with the young prince, who began to speak very rapidly to her in a low voice.

They spoke for some time, each casting glances toward the dead man who had just attacked the Queen. Armed guards approached, and at a wave of the Queen's hand, they gathered up the corpse and hurried it from her presence, leaving behind a trail of red droplets.

Then came servant women, all bowing low. At once they set to work, scrubbing and scrubbing till no trace of the foolish attacker's blood remained.

All the while, the Queen spoke intently with the prince, not at all noticing the bustle of activity going on all around her. All at once, the Queen dealt the prince a savage blow with the back of her hand, sending him nearly flying into the abutment.

"INSOLENT DOG!" she thundered. "How dare you treat with them without my leave!"

She towered over him now, seeming to grow larger and more menacing by the second. He leaned heavily against the stone battlement, a small trickle of blood trailing from his lower lip, eyes averted to the ground.

The air seemed to quiver around the two, and the princess could feel stings all over the skin of her arms, as if she'd slept on them wrong.

Just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by a deep silence.

"My apologies, my Queen..." he began with a low bow.

"But you have indeed charged me with the defense of this stronghold. Should I allow a band of armed men to make camp at our borders, without even attempting to divine their purpose..."

With this, the Queen softened, and they again moved some distance away, the two speaking in hushed tones. Though they spoke quietly, the princess could barely make out pieces of their conversation.

"... from the outland realm! They say they are kinsmen of the King!"

"Know they not who now rules this land?..."

The wind shifted and she could no longer catch their words, but could tell they were speaking of the strangers camped in the distance. They continued to speak, and she could tell the Queen grew distressed over the news.

At length, Tarquinne bowed low, and then cast a glance toward the princess. Though she could sense no overt signs of menace, the momentary touch of their eyes left her feeling unsteady. He rose up, and departed quickly, leaving the Queen alone with the princess once again.

The Queen did not return to her, but stood looking out over the countryside for a time. After a while, she broke her gaze, and turned to the princess.

"Forgive me, my dear." she spoke. "At times, heavy is the head that wears the crown. I have much to attend, and must bid you farewell for a time. And I must change out of this ruined gown!" said She, with an exasperated scowl.

She cast a long look toward the strangers' camp.

At last she continued. "Tell your maid to bring you to me once the night watch is set." And with that, she turned on her heel and glided away into the gathering dusk.

- - -

The princess stood alone on the battlement, relishing the clean air and solitude. Her heart felt lighter now that the Queen had departed. Her mind swirled with the events that had just transpired.

The Queen, stabbed repeatedly, right in front of her. And not a scratch upon her! The princess knew the Queen must possess very deep magick indeed.

As she stood looking out, the small encampment caught her eye, and her mind wondered what news the young prince might have brought.

Fresh noises from the courtyard below caught her ear and broke her reverie. Realizing the hour, she hurried back down, through the strangely runed tunnel, and down to her chambers.

She made her way down the great stair, and through the Inquisitor's chamber of delights, and through her own chamber door. She stopped short to find her lovely maid Chrysanthemum, sitting quietly within, accompanied by the Inquisitor. Both looked up to behold her, their eyes unreadable.

"Ah, come in my dear. I see you've had an audience with the Queen." he finally spoke.

"Yes, my lord.' She replied, with a small nod to Chrysanthemum. "And she was attacked... in my presence!

The Inquisitor and the maid exchanged looks, but said nothing as the princess continued.

"A man..." she panted. "A peasant man... Fell upon the Queen with bright blade. I saw it with mine own eyes. He tore into her many, many times, but his blade... it availed him not!"

"She destroyed him. Crushed his throat as if were straw!" The princess choked on her words.

"And she was... unharmed?" asked the Inquisitor finally.

"Yes, my Lord." She gasped. "Not a scratch, though her dress was rent in many places."

"Yes..." said He. "Our Queen is quite... resourceful."

"As you have now seen, she cannot be harmed by mortal weapons. Though her skin is soft and smooth, it is harder than," he hesitated. "... than dragon's scales."

"And then?" he asked after a lengthy pause.

"And then all was a'flurry." she said. "Guards came, and took the man away. Serving wenches cleaned up the gore, and all was washed away, as if it had never happened."

"Then came the prince, and they talked awhile. He must have given her some ill news about the strangers camped at the outlands... for she grew very angry and vexed."

"And then, she dispatched him with orders, and left me standing there to wonder." She said at last.

"And you shall have another visit after the watch is set?" asked the Inquisitor. The princess could barely conceal her surprise. How could he already know that she was to entertain the Queen that very evening.

"Y-yes, my lord." she spoke, "She asked that Chrysanthemum bring me to her this eve."

With this the maid's eyes darkened, but she said nothing.

"Yes..." said the Inquisitor. "She has chosen you to become her newest pupil. We can only hope you have learned well from your lovely maid." He reached out and gently held the maid's face in his gloved hands, his gaze soft and tender.

He slowly rose and crossed to the princess, bringing her into the chamber, and closing the heavy door behind her. His hands rose to her throat, and for a moment, the princess believe she had breathed her last.

But with surprising gentleness, he unfastened the white jeweled necklace from her neck, and slipped it into his robes. The princess searched his eyes and masked face, questioning. From within his robes, he withdrew another object.

Round her neck, he fastened a new necklace. As before, it was bound by a lovely ribbon, this one of dark blue silk, and from it's center hung a striking stone of the deepest blue. Into it were carved strange runes inlaid with gold. As it lay upon her skin, it felt at once both hot and cold, and seemed to resonate very softly.

He remained very close to her, she could again just make out the sweet and heady fragrance which had overtaken her when she first arrived. For a time, he merely gazed down at her, his eyes moving from her to the new stone at her neck.

"You must never remove this stone from your neck." he said quietly. "Your first bond was... insufficient."

"Remember that you are bound to me... Remember your oath."

"You must never give your heart to the Queen. You do not belong to her... but to me. You shall not become one of her crimson-throated slaves!"

"But the magick in your first bond... it would never withstand that of the Queen."

"You have moved to a new stage of your studies, and therefore, your bond has now changed." The princess slowly reached up to finger the azure gem at her throat, tiny stings on her fingertips.

Though she had been his prisoner before, a new connection to him had formed without her even being aware of it. As they stood close, she searched the eyes behind the mask, and found them gentle and kind.

As her fingers came away from the gem, she noticed a fine white powder, like she'd lightly dragged them through the finest of white sand.

Quick as a flash, the Inquisitor's eyes darkened and he stepped away, To the maid he commanded, "Make sure she is cleaned and prepared. Remember your own oaths through the upcoming trials. Your strength must hold."

With these cryptic remarks, the Inquisitor gathered up his robes and glided out. As the princess closed the door behind him, her sandals scratched against more of the fine white sand where he had stood. Puzzled, she looked to the maid for answers, but found none, the maid having begun filling the bath for the princess.

The princess quickly loosened her clothes, and entered the steaming waters. She hungrily held out her arms for the maid, who disrobed and joined her, but seemed distracted. The princess asked many soft questions, but the maid turned each away, all the while bathing the princess's smooth skin, and laying on lovely soaps and perfumes.

Into the princess's hair, she wove golden blossoms and green wisps, and hummed a soft melody as she worked. The princess abandoned her desire, and allowed the maid to ready her for the Queen.

At long last, after many soft touches and caresses, the maid came round to face the princess, the hot water sending clouds of steam swirling round her lovely face. Her hands slipped below the waters, and the princess could feel them seeking out her secrets.

The fingertips plucked and brushed her nipples, and the soon became hard and dark. The fingertips played down low, her own body adding to the hot wetness of the bath.

Suddenly, as if remembering something, the maid spoke. "Tsk, my love, we must do something with this hair!"

"The Queen would not like that! She wants you smooth." And with that, she bade the princess sit upon the edge of the bath, resting upon soft pillows, her legs dangling in the steamy waters.

The princess watched with relish as the maid rose from the bath, admiring the round bubbles that slid down her back and legs. The maid crossed to a nearby cupboard, her naked skin steaming in the cool air. From within, she withdrew a small chest, and returned to the bath.

She drew close to the princess. She gently spread the princess's legs, and positioned herself between them, her lower half submerged in the warm waters. From the chest, she brought a small pair of shears, and beautifully carved soap, and a small blade, which looked exceedingly sharp. It's fine edge glinted in the light.

The maid worked the soap with the warm water, creating a lather of bubbles, thick with heady perfume. These she spread upon the princess, working it into the princess's lower tangles, till at last a mass of bubble surrounded her still very excited sex.

"Now my love, you must be very still." spoke the maid softly, as she began to snip away dark curls with the tiny shears. Soon, only a light fuzz remained. The princess's body hummed with excitement as the maid stayed close. The princess found the sight of the maid down low, attending to her, very arousing, loving the sensations rising from between her legs.

"There..." she cooed. 'That is better, my princess. But not nearly smooth enough for her Highness. Again, my love, you must be very, very still."

Lathering the princess once again, the maid retrieved the bright blade, and ever so gently, began to shave the remaining down from the princess. Slowly she worked, and the princess began to become even more aroused by the sharp edge against her tender skin.

At long last, the maid poured warm water over the bubbles, washing them away to reveal smooth skin where a dark triangle had been before. The maid gazed up at the princess from between her thighs with a coy expression, before slowly clasping her lips to the princess's newly shaved warmth.

Wave after wave of pleasure coursed through the princess as the maid's tongue worked in and out of newly discovered places, the warmth of her tongue delicious against the now smooth skin. The princess coursed with wetness from the mouth of the maid, the warm water, the slick wetness of her own, and soon she built to a near-screaming climax under the lashes of the maid's tongue and mouth.

Seeing her handiwork, the maid smiled sweetly before gliding back across the water, finally rising from the pool, leaving wet footprints behind her. She selected a new gown for the princess, and soon enough had her resplendently dressed, though she herself remained naked.

The princess allowed herself to be dressed, all the while her fingertips sneaking quick caresses and tickles from the maid's smooth naked body. At long last, the maid drew her to the bed, where they reclined. She drew the princess close to her breasts.

"Now, my love..." she whispered. "You must suckle me. Drink from my breasts, all that you can... Spill not a drop."

She said as she lay back against the soft pillows of the bed, her eyes closed. The princess quickly obeyed, her mouth seeking out the maid's hard nipple, finding it hot and ready for her.

She suckled the maid, the sweet milk coursing into her mouth, and down her throat in warm swallows. Her tongue played amongst the warm milk, flicking back and forth across and around her engorged nipple. The princess drank and drank from the maid, until at last Chrysanthemum clasped her hungry mouth to her other breast.

The princess drank again from her, fingers playing below, sliding in and out of the maid. As she suckled her, the princess could feel the maid bucking against her fingers, driving them further in, until at last she came under the princess's touches.

A new flood of milk flowed into the princess's mouth, even sweeter than before, as the maid gasped for her breath, the fingers of the princess still deep inside her, slipping amidst her juices. She rose to meet the kiss of the maid, her mouth still sweet.

At length, the maid rose to dress, at times looking back over her shoulders to find the princess watching her. She returned a soft smile, and then squeezed herself into a sturdy and beautiful dark green corset. She slipped into an equally stunning matching green gown, adjusting until she was satisfied with the reflection in the glass.

At last she turned. "Come, my lady. The watch has surely been set by now. The Queen awaits you."