Author's Note: It is recommended to read the previous chapters of this story, to better understand the storyline and characters. It starts slow, but gets going pretty quickly. The tension between the players works the best if you know the characters and their progressions well. Here is a quick remainder of the story so far.
To recapitulate..
Elanor of Wolkernshire, the Great Chaste Queen, is having a hard time keeping a level head, navigating the daily politics and policies of her court, while mourning from the unexpected demise of her true love, King Barthomius. Wanting to relieve the chaos in her mind, with all conventinal aids failing, the Queen seeks help from a promising horse trainer, Bellatrix of Agrafena. Her rationale being, unorthodox problems demand unconventional solutions. Bellatrix correctly identifies that key to the solution, but it involves manipulating the Queen's bodily cravings, primarily the sexual kind. The only problem being, the Queen's unswerving determination in preserving her chastity.!
Bellatrix took up the challenge, to treat the 'condition' in secrecy, without violating the Queen's chastity, nor risking any exposure that would compromise her Queenship. To avoid suspicion, Lady Agrafena was given the official title of 'Head of Households', a powerful position in its own right. After a few trial and errors, Bella realized the best way was to observe the Queen's immediate responses to deeply sexual scenarios, which she termed 'tasks'. Though soon it became obvious, the trust they put in each other played as key a role, as the complexities of the tasks..
Like any relationship, ironing out the kinks can be tedious, yet the Queen manages to struggle through the tasks set by her new employee, and now Mistress, Lady Agrafena. But the sheer sexual nature of the tasks waking up her inner dormant giant of carnality, an untameable beast of true deviancy, was something that the Queen never expected. After observing the Queen engrossed in her last task, not just dancing as the Retirement-party entertainment, but all the other obscene services she willingly provided late into the night, Bella was more confused. What exactly was she aiding to accomplish? What was to be the required escalation, for what had become a weekly meditation in depravity? And where would it be, a healthy limit, for such obscene indulgences.?
*
**
***
The Desert Rose
Wait.. Where was I..?
It's hard to explain even, her current predicament. Nothing pleasant about the way she kneeled, against the damp wooden floorboards, soaked in sweat and god-knows-what. Elanor was still collecting her breath, her performance in 'The Desert Rose' ended just a few minutes ago. No amount of water she drank seemed sufficient to quench the thirst. Even with that bladder about to burst, her heart craved for more. Anything to cool the beating muscle. And the subtle claustrophobia didn't help either. Where was she? Elanor was now in a closed room next to the stage, which practically shared one of it's walls with the backstage. The sweet voice of the blind singer, whose song she danced to moments earlier, could still be heard clearly.
It felt odd. Unlike the freedom on-stage, to her, the stuffiness of this cabin felt much more comforting. Be it the closeness of the wooden walls, dingier than a bathroom stall. Or the strange wooden paneled wall a few inches upfront, seemingly made of a bunch of small sliding windows. Or the way she had to sit there on her knees, both wrists cuffed from behind and attached to an iron hook on the floor, situated right between her feet. Making it impossible for her to get to a more comfortable posture. But no, she didn't want a more comfortable posture. She felt perfectly at home with this one, the reasons of which she feared to even dwell upon.
What seemed to be discomforting was ironically the fact that she was dressed in one of her favorite gowns, with a tight neck-line, long pink pleated sleeves and violet roses embroidered all over, with a daringly open back. One from her early Princess days, one she kept for sentimental reasons. One which she could barely slip into. It wasn't easy to get dressed into it backstage so swiftly, right after her debut performance in front of a completely strange crowd. Thankfully, her Mistress seemed more than eager to help. To ease her fears of ruining the dress, Bellatrix had kindly let her wear a made-up Barber cape. A long white shawl, with its one end tied around her neck, and the other attached to hooks at either sides of the wooden wall upfront.
The Queen startled as she felt a shadow move on the other side of the wall.
Relax
... She told herself.
'You've been practicing for this the whole week...'
She heard the door shut on the other side, and she could see his contours through the gaps in the wooden panels, though not clearly.
Creeeak..!!
A wooden panel slid to the side, opening a hole right at her face level. It was barely a window, small enough to put just a fist through. And she saw the silhouette bend down, his eyes eager and curious, peeping through the hole. Elanor instinctively shut her eyes, as she wasn't masked as usual, hoping her blindness would magically blind him as well. Of course, there was no need for her to worry. In that small cabin, Bella had made sure that her Queen was lit from behind, so in case someone peeked, all they could see, at most, was her silhouette. Calming her nerves, she heard him say.
"Wow! It's really you... I'd recognize you anywhere. Even in the dark, Demura..! Shall we.?"
The voice sounded distinctly confident, and the noise from the bar made it difficult to identify. But soon that wouldn't be an issue. As the stranger got back up, and unbuckled his pants, the air from the other room rushed in. Elanor took a lungful, with her eyes closed, her nostrils wafting in his musk. And in the dark of her imagination, colors started popping up. Bright red spots, like that of an imperial uniform. Bluish green circles, like a guarding spear. Glimpses of a reddish graying facial stubble. A pair of thick dark brown eyebrows. And finally, a face..! A very, very familiar face, that she recognized solely from his smell.
His natural musk.
God..! Is this how dogs see the world?! What am I turning into..??